Dusty Journal

Dusty Journal is a category of Lore entries presented as text side-stories. They can be read by accessing the Elmo Cloud Server Room, then the Remastered Records menu.

Graffiti Variation

Summary

This story is linked to Dusty Memories#Discordant Pitch.

After arriving in Satellite City CHE-09, ^AR Type 95Type 95Type 95 works as a musician for Neon Restaurant, but must contend with the anxiety of leaving Type 97 behind in Griffin and the uncaring crowds she plays for. One day, while she's attempting to prevent a shootout in the restaurant, 95 is damaged while shielding her guzheng from being shot. The repair process prevents her from recovering her sheet music database. Unable to find work as a musician, 95 takes a regular job at a grocery store on the recommendation of a former colleague. Inspired after seeing an improvising musician, 95 wants to work on composing her own music from her apartment, but is prevented by her gruff neighbor Lin Yu. 95 instead works on her music in the building of her second job at a daycare, where Lin Yu also works. Lin Yu one day extends a rare helpful hand to 95 by protecting her guzheng from the rain, and, inspired by 97's messages, 95 writes Lin Yu letters to try and break the ice between them. Lin Yu eventually responds by giving 95 old books about music theory and guzheng playing. With Lin Yu's reluctant help, 95 eventually completes her first score, "Chongming", and signs it with her old name: Daiyan. After Daiyan shares the score with Lin Yu, she finally admits that sue used to be a guzheng player, but lost her job because of Dolls and resented their mechanical approach to music, until she acknowledged Daiyan's ability to explore music for herself.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Vera's Grocery Store, District D5, Satellite City CHE-09.
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 95
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

This rental studio measures no more than 10 square meters, not to mention its crude furnishing. A bed, a desk, and a wardrobe alone already take up most of the free space. Now with my guzheng in the mix, the room is nothing short of completely packed.
Most apartments in a satellite city are like this.

I placed the guzheng on its stand and started tuning it.

This isn't the kind of venue I'm used to—there is no huge stage, no spotlights, and no attentive gazes—yet I am much more on edge than I have been for any of my earlier performances.
Perhaps it has to do with the fact that the piece I will be performing is different from what I typically play. This piece's composition data isn't stored in my neural data. It's not something that can be perfectly performed just by following a program.

I wrote this piece... myself.
I spent several months refining, discarding, and perfecting it repeatedly...
Having managed to complete a draft, I then spent a lot of time figuring out how to convey different emotions during different sections.
Where to pause, where to use certain techniques...
Without the experience and musical sense developed through years of practice, playing this piece well will be quite a challenge.

But I've practiced it so many times, I should be able to...
No.
Forget about playing it well, whether I can even perform it fluidly as a true "piece of music" and not just some random series of notes played for practice is a question on its own.
My performance will likely be riddled with awkward pauses. Such a laughable spectacle will no doubt seep into the neighbor's apartment next door through the poorly soundproofed walls where a stern-faced lady is listening intently.

My wandering gaze finally lands on the digital clock. As the last digit turns into zero, I feel as if my surroundings suddenly dim, with a sharp spotlight then promptly cast on me.
It's my signal to Miss Lin Yu that the performance is about to start.

I place my hand on the strings, and the notes flow out like droplets of water.
The prelude concludes, and now comes the first section. Three, two, one, go.
...Dolls do not require artificial nails to play such instruments... Is this an advantage of being a Doll...?
My thoughts begin to slowly drift away.
No, no. It's not the time to think about that. Right now, I need to focus on playing this piece of music, if it can even be called that.
I channel all my computational power into my neural network, making sure every note can be handled by my processing module before being correctly played by my fingers.

With a final strum and the vibration of the strings, the echo of the notes gradually fades while I too steadily regain my composure.
I push my hearing module's sensitivity to the limit and sit quietly in front of the guzheng for a while, trying to catch any sound from the apartment next door through the thin wall.
...However, there's complete and utter silence, with not even the usual sound of a chair being moved.

Miss Lin Yu... maybe she's not home?
After all, this is but a one-sided request from me. Given her consistent attitude and way of handling things during our "communications" in the past few months, her simply ignoring me isn't out of the question.
Besides, I don't even know if this type of interaction counts as "communication"—it's more of just me putting forth a message.

I feel lost, not sure of what to do next.
Standing up, I notice the music sheet on the table next to me; it's for the piece that I've just played. In the top right corner, "Daiyan" is written in the author's section, with 'Lin Yu' marked right next to it in a smaller print. I flip through the pages, trying to clear my mind, recap my performance, and look for areas where I could improve.

After a moment's hesitation, I look out through the peephole on the door.
The door next to my side is tightly shut, with no sign of movement.
I let out a long sigh and turn to lean against the door.

If the Commander was around, they would have sincerely expressed their true feelings to me.
Leaving Griffin, leaving behind that environment where others cared and supported me... can I no longer achieve anything on my own?

My thoughts are all over the place.
I can't help but think about the days when I just left Griffin and what happened when I first arrived in this satellite city...

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: "Neon" Restaurant, District B1, Satellite City CHE-09
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 95
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

Even without the artificial rainfall, the nights in the satellite city still feel damp and heavy.
This feeling isn't akin to humidity; it's more like every customer in the restaurant is a sponge soaked with emotions. In the right atmosphere, they either quietly vent or dramatically explode.

Before going on stage, I checked my email during a sound check break, but there were no updates.

"That look—your sister hasn't replied yet?"
The one speaking was my new colleague at the restaurant, Clarissa, who’s also a Doll. She was hired here as a waitress, and we got along quite well because of her outgoing personality.

"Maybe she's just busy..."
I kept tuning my instrument. The strings have been getting loose lately, and it has been going out of tune. I need to adjust the position of the guzheng pegs and tighten the strings a bit more...
As I turn the wrench, it feels like the strings in my head are tightening too—97's lack of response always gave me the feeling that she was in some kind of trouble.
Like... grabbing the wrong ammo and being unable to shoot; misunderstanding the team's instructions and risking exposure; not checking her body regularly and facing sudden malfunctions... Even though I've been away from Griffin for a while, 97 was very determined to stay and keep fighting. She's an excellent Doll, but I just can't help but worry about her...

"Hey, hey! Stop, the string's about to snap!"
I quickly let go of the wrench as if waking from a dream.
Clarissa was passing by, and after seeing me almost fumble, she asked—
"If you’re so worried, why did you split up in the first place?"

97's determined expression flashed by.
She was serious, unlike her usual playful self: "We have different pursuits, and it's normal to follow our own paths."
How did I respond back then? Probably... I was just happy.
I was really happy that 97 could set her own goals and grow, although... I feel a bit lonely now.

"She wants to stay on the battlefield to keep training, but I wanted to see the outside world," I told Clarissa.
My colleague nodded knowingly.
"Our dear 95 really doesn't seem like a Doll who enjoys fighting. Even when she's playing music, she's so gentle. Sometimes I feel like you don't quite fit in with the vibe of our establishment."
My hand paused for a moment while adjusting the guzheng pegs.
"Oh... I didn't mean that you play badly!" She quickly tried to fill the silence, "It's just... the guests all seem lost in their own worlds. It feels like there's a divide between the stage and the audience."

Two worlds...?
The smile on my face must have been a bit helpless.
Actually, I noticed this issue the first time I performed on stage, but I still don't have a good solution for it.

As usual, I set up the guzheng on the stage, my eyes wandering around the restaurant.
The dining atmosphere was quite noisy, with dim lights casting shadows on the old walls, and the diners' expressions were hard to read.
From the corner, where a guest was absent-mindedly eating their meal, came a clatter of dishes. At the seat closest to the stage, a young guest was sobbing, her makeup smudged together with the ice cream that had fallen on the tablecloth, creating an unsightly mess.

I heard a faint melody. The sound was very light, the tune chaotic and disordered, unlike any piece I had ever played.
Actually, "heard" would not be entirely accurate. More precisely, this melody came from my neural cloud, and when it surfaced, my pre-programmed system automatically started to read and play it.
And because it did not come from any established piece, it could only be classified as the "static" of my neural processes, so it naturally seemed chaotic and disorderly.
I put my hands on the strings, browsing through the hundreds of pieces stored in my local database, but I couldn't pluck a single note for a long time. I couldn't decide what style of music would fit the atmosphere here.

"If no one is paying attention, does it really matter which one I play?"
As soon as this thought came up, it took over my processes.

Amidst the noise, I suddenly missed Griffin.
At least if my companions from Griffin were in the audience, they would definitely show a relaxed or appreciative attitude towards my music. It would make me feel that my performance was much more meaningful.
In the end, in order to avoid attracting the boss's gaze, I randomly selected a song with a faster rhythm and loaded it into the driver.
I hope this fierce melody can help me break through the barrier between the two worlds...

"I really can't continue on with this kind of life..."
"It’s not fair! The one who should've been promoted was me!"
"Why does this music sound like noise..."
"You nag about repayment all day? Is it really necessary? Aren't we brothers?! I will naturally pay you back when I have the money!"

The strings roared under my fingers, but the world kept turning undisturbed, with sounds of various emotions bubbling up.
People were lost in the fortresses they built for themselves, and my music felt distant and unnecessary.
My fingers kept mechanically plucking the guzheng strings, but this sense of loss was slowly consuming my awareness like a black hole...

"Bang! Bang!"
Two sudden gunshots shattered the noise, followed by a brief silence. Then, a scream from someone turned the quiet restaurant upside down.
"He's got a gun! Get down!"
The moment the first gunshot rang out, I snapped back into place, and my combat instincts took over.
Not enough intel, can't make a judgement call... Operation halted, need more intel.
I leaped off the stage and took cover behind an overturned table.

The restaurant was in total chaos now, panic and fear spreading everywhere.
Tables and chairs were knocked over by the fleeing crowd, shattered dishes and glasses lay about all over the floor, and the people who were pushed down screamed in agony.
The gunshots kept echoing amidst the chaos.

Attempting to analyze the situation on the scene... pinpointing the source of the sound...
The origin of the gunshot—is the corner in the far right corner of the lobby.

A middle-aged man in shabby clothes holds a gun, aiming with trembling hands at the young man he just shared a meal with at the same table.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"I... I can't wait any longer! My daughter's illness can't wait either! If you don't pay back the money today, I will... I will stake my everything against you!"

I glanced upwards and locked onto the revolver in his hand.
This pistol chamber has a maximum of 6 bullets, there were two gunshots just now, which means he has at most four bullets left.
But from the way he's handling the gun, it's clear he's not very familiar with firearms. The two shots he fired only hit the edge of the dining table.
The system calculated a 98% chance that I could dodge the shots and predicted that I could capture him. I lowered my body and got ready to act according to the plan.

"No, don't!"
But to my surprise, the young man panicked and fled onto the stage.

The dark barrel of the gun moved along with his trajectory, pointing at my guzheng.
In a daze, my body seemed to stop responding. How strange, did I crash?
But... why didn't my body stop?
Wait! That's not the trajectory from the planned route!

"Bang——"
After the gunshot, my memory froze on a flash of white light.

...

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic failed... Error, entries exceeded limit... requesting reset...
Reset failed... Retrying in 3 seconds... 3... 2... 1...
Are you sure you want to abort the reset?
Authorization confirmed, command confirmed, reset aborted... Automatic reactivation in loss mode in 3 seconds... 3... 2... 1...

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

I opened my eyes.
From the feel of the surface I was lying on, I could tell I was on a basic repair device. The surroundings were obscured by a white light from the vision module, making it hard to get a clear picture. The self-diagnostic program pulled up a ton of errors, almost in every module.
How did I end up here?

"Alright, that's enough." The boss waved at me from a distance, "95, come over here."
I groggily stood up and walked towards him.

On the way back to the restaurant with the boss, I learned from him why I ended up in this Doll repair shop.
There was a commotion at the restaurant, and I got shot by a gunman. Then I got hit again, which affected a lot of modules in my body. The persistent white light in front of my eyes was due to the damage to the vision module.
After the gunman used his last bullet, he was arrested by the security personnel arriving on the scene. They then took me to the nearest private repair shop.

Luckily, my body took the hit, and the guzheng was unharmed.
I looked over the error logs. Starting from entry 42, they were all about issues with the neural cloud module, compatibility problems, and some lost neural records. There's quite a bit missing, so I can't determine the extent of the damage right now. I'll need to compare it with the backup data on the server for a second check.
I'm not too worried about the lost neural records. As a Doll, I can just reload the neural cloud backup from the server. But the compatibility issue is a real headache. Worst-case scenario, it might—
No, it won't come to that.

"...Back then, the repair shop gave me two options: repair or replace the parts." The boss seemed to notice me repeatedly checking the components and couldn't help but complain, "You used to be with... Griffin, right? Did they have more Dolls and more repair funds there? Why is a single part so expensive... Repairs are also so costly..."
I didn't know how to respond for a moment, so I politely thanked him: "Well... Thank you for your help."
"Speaking of which, Griffin was that famous PMC back in the day, although it's not doing so well now... I mean, look, no one listens to your guzheng, not to mention security issues..."
I didn't really pay attention to what he said after that. I just had a vague feeling that something was off.
While the boss was grumbling in the background, we got back to the restaurant, and I connected to the restaurant's server console.
"Unable to synchronize data—"
The system popped up a message saying that the server data failed to load and wasn't compatible with the existing neural cloud module.
I tried again, but got the same error and the same message.

I was stunned.
It took me a while to finally get a word into the boss's endless monologue.
"I think... I can't sync the data I uploaded to the server before..."
"Huh? Aren't you fine now?"
The boss clearly didn't get what I meant.
"My local neural cloud module is malfunctioning and can't load the neural cloud backup stored at the restaurant. It says... incompatible. The local data I've lost cannot be restored."
"What data? Is it important?"
I issued an analysis command, and soon enough, the comparison results appeared in my neural system.

"It's... some behavioral data, including performance records. Without them, I can't play."

The boss was taken aback too. He frowned, thought for a moment, and then sighed.
"So, there are still some things that haven't been fixed? But it can't be helped now. Things are pretty tough on my end too.
"Repairs and buying new furniture cost a lot of money, not to mention that disputes between clients have started escalating to shootings. Who knows when we can get back to normal business..."
"Since you can't play anymore, 95, I think you should look for another job elsewhere."

"...Alright."
Seeing his exhaustion, hesitation, and sadness, I could only nod.

And just like that, I lost my job.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: None
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 95
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"...What is this strange instrument? A guzheng? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with it."
"I apologize, but we don't accommodate Dolls here."
"Do you know how to play something else? Maybe some local folk tunes or popular songs?"
Though I had anticipated such responses, I still harbored a glimmer of hope as I visited several establishments. After facing repeated rejections, I had to come to terms with the fact that I couldn't secure a position as a musician.
The hosting service I utilized... temporarily assigned my affiliation data to a company. Previously, when I was employed, my superior covered these expenses. Now, I must bear this cost myself.
I'm uncertain how long my remaining funds will last...

My inbox remained desolately empty, with no response to the message I had sent to 97.
The system alerted me to the low battery levels.
Although the proprietor here declined my application, he showed great kindness by not immediately asking me to leave. Instead, he generously allowed me to use the establishment's charging station.
As the charging process would take some time, I adjusted my frame's power mode to conserve energy and rested my head on the table, feeling somewhat disheartened.
What... should I do now?

My auditory module registered the melodious voice of the resident singer, accompanied by a guitar. The cheerful, bright singing filled the modest space.
It was a unique melody, unlike anything I had ever encountered before.

I observed the patrons at the adjacent table closing their eyes in enjoyment, gently nodding along to the music.
My vision grew slightly hazy, as if obscured by a faint mist...
Even with a small audience, I yearned for my own music to be appreciated in such a manner.

"I apologize, but we're approaching our busy period," the proprietor who had interviewed me earlier returned, gently suggesting it was time for me to depart.
I hastily offered my apologies and rose to leave.
Before crossing the threshold, I couldn't help but turn and inquire, "Pardon me, but the local traditional tune you mentioned earlier... might it be the song that gentleman is currently performing?"
"Hm?" The owner glanced at the engrossed singer and shook his head. "No, that isn't it. I'm not familiar with this piece. Perhaps it's an improvisation or an original composition?"

As the door closed behind me, I suddenly felt as if another door, slightly ajar, had materialized before me.
A faint light emanated from the gap, seemingly inviting me to open it.

When I returned to Neon Restaurant, my former colleague was dismantling the establishment's sign.
Clarissa's face brightened upon seeing me, but her expression quickly turned to concern when she learned of my unchanged status, of being unemployed.
"The Doll hosting services aren't always reliable. If issues arise, it could cause significant trouble in the satellite city... I can't believe the manager couldn't have given you more time..."
"Please don't worry," I said with a small smile.
"Oh, 95, you're far too kind! What do you plan to do now?"
"I was hoping I could ask for your assistance."
She looked puzzled.
"If I recall correctly, before coming here, you mentioned working at a grocery store. The pay was modest, but they provided accommodations, didn't they?"
"Oh, that's right!" Clarissa's eyes lit up with realization, then dimmed slightly with hesitation. "But... didn't you want to find work as a performer? That position was just for odd jobs, you know?"

My gaze fell to the neon tubes scattered at her feet. Disconnected from their sign, they lay in disarray, their glow depressingly dim.
"That's alright. I'd be grateful for any work."

Upon learning that I came at Clarissa's recommendation, the elderly owner of the grocery store graciously accepted my application.
However, she wasn't particularly adept with the terminal. The necessary changes to my permissions would have to wait until her children returned.

A soft beep sounded as I entered my assigned lodgings.
To call it lodgings might be an overstatement; it was merely a small room partitioned off above the grocery store. The space, less than ten square meters, contained a single bed, a wardrobe, and a desk. There was no window, and it felt rather confined.
However, it would suffice as a practice room.

When I discovered the loss of my performance data, my initial thought was to reacquire and reload it. However, such data grows exceedingly expensive in this era, so I must save up slowly. In addition to my work at the grocery store, I've taken on a part-time position at a daycare center.
With my remaining time, I intend to embark on something I've neither attempted, nor even considered before.
Composing music.

If I can cultivate the ability to create, I won't be constrained by my data and programming. With sufficient experience, perhaps I could even improvise based on the atmosphere of a venue—much like that resident performer.
From all perspectives, the act of creation seems immensely beneficial to me.
If I can push open that half-closed door, might there be patrons who would listen attentively to my performance, and appreciate my efforts? I feel as though I've rediscovered a goal worth striving for, and I'm filled with a sense of purpose.
I carefully set up the guzheng, pulled the desk closer, and spread out the paper I had purchased from the grocery store.

But... what should I write?
I gently plucked the strings, and for a moment, I felt as though I were back on the stage of the Neon Restaurant—the feeling of having numerous scores yet being unsure which to play manifesting as a transparent barrier. No matter how I tried, I couldn't bring myself to write anything.
Suddenly, that chaotic, disordered melody echoed in my neural cloud. The sentiment it expressed seemed to mirror my current uncertain circumstances...
Of course!
Creation draws from one's own experiences and observations. Perhaps the challenges I'm facing now could serve as the theme for a composition.
Why not use this melody as a foundation and see if I can craft a piece from it?

It wasn't until a series of urgent knocks at the door that I realized how late it had gotten.
With trepidation, I opened the door to find a stern-faced woman, likely in her thirties, with an imposing stature.
Her gaze swept past me into the room, then scrutinized me from head to toe before she spoke in chilly tones.
"Do you have any idea what time it is? Do you think humans don't require sleep, like machines?"
Her eyes bored into me, brimming with irritation.
"I apologize, I didn't—"
"I've been enduring your noise since I returned from work. If this continues, I will file a complaint, and have you removed from the premises."

Enduring... noise...
Noise...
Have I... heard similar words before?

I can't recall how I responded—perhaps I didn't have the chance to respond at all. When I recovered from my momentary lapse, the intimidating woman had vanished from my sight.

As I closed the door, I noticed my hands were trembling slightly.
It's alright, this is to be expected.
It's not uncommon to encounter humans who are averse to Dolls, and I was the one causing the disturbance...
It's perfectly fine!
It's... fine...

However, perhaps it would be best not to practice in this room from now on...

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Vera's Grocery Store, District D5, Satellite City CHE-09
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 95
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

My duties at the grocery store typically commence at 6 a.m.
Tidying the storefront, unloading deliveries, taking inventory, stocking shelves, assisting the store owner's grandmother with errands... Once these tasks are complete, I have free time until 2 p.m., to which I dedicate to composing music.
...Although in truth, I haven't managed to write anything yet.

"You're so kind to run errands for me every day, even though it's not part of your job..."
"Please don't worry, it's no trouble at all. I'm happy to help."
All the children of the store owner’s grandmother must catch early trains to the White Zone for work each day, often causing them to return late at night, leaving them unable to tend to her needs.
The thought of an elderly person venturing out alone was quite concerning.
"Such good girls you are, both 95 and Clarissa," The grandmother nods appreciatively as she accepts the medicine I've purchased for her. "I do hope her work at the restaurant is going well..."
"By the way, how are you adjusting to the daycare? Have you met Lilia?"
I feel my mouth open, but no words come out.

Until a week ago, my work at the daycare had been relatively uneventful. Parents residing in the satellite city but working in the White Zone entrust their children to daycare centers here. Two or three teachers oversee their basic education, while domestic Dolls manage their meals and daily care.
Although I'm not a domestic Doll, the interviewer believed I could handle some basic tasks and hired me to read stories to the younger children and tidy up their toys. Around 10 p.m., when the daycare is typically empty, I visit a nearby open space to continue composing and practicing the guzheng.

This arrangement ensures that I don't disturb anyone.

This schedule gives me a sense of fulfilment and purpose.
That is, until I encountered Lilia seemingly lost in thought at the open space–
The lady I had inadvertently disturbed wore a daycare work badge...
Later, I learned from Grandmother that she was my neighbor, residing in the room at the end of the corridor.

"I'm... adjusting, I suppose..."
"Lilia may seem aloof, but she has a good heart. She just struggles to express herself. Come to think of it, you two are quite similar in some ways..."
"Similar?"
I feel a bit taken aback. While I mean no offense, I truly can't fathom how we might be alike.
Grandmother's gaze holds a sense of understanding—the kind unique to elders who have weathered many hardships in life.
"Perhaps that's not the best way to put it... but try to observe more closely and reflect on that. You might discover something unexpected."

I understand the need to observe, but... what exactly am I meant to reflect upon?

Tonight, as I attempted to compose in the open space, Madam Lilia showed up as well. She stood beneath a nearby streetlight, her expression obscured.
Typically, she acts as if I'm invisible. Even when we cross paths, her gaze passes through me as though I'm not there.

Grandmother advised me to reflect deeply... but does she know what I'm supposed to reflect on?
It's rather amusing—how can I reflect when I don't even know what I should be considering?
Perhaps I should focus on the new piece I'm trying to compose instead.
Since initially determining the theme for my composition, progress has been slow. The few additional notes on my draft manuscript are essentially repetitions and extensions of the original melody. I keep playing that motif symbolizing difficulty, back and forth, unsure how to break free from it...

Suddenly, a cold droplet landed on my head. Before I could look up, a torrent of rain poured down, drenching my face.
Oh dear! The manuscript! And my guzheng! They mustn't get wet!
I hurriedly tucked the music sheets into my waist pouch and bent to lift the guzheng. A long coat suddenly draped over it, covering about two-thirds of the instrument's surface.
I glanced up to see Madam Lilia, her expression blurred by the falling rain, wet hair clinging to her cheeks.
"Why are you just standing there?"
Despite the humid air, her voice remained as cool as ever.
I swiftly wrapped the guzheng in the coat and followed her into the daycare building.

The guzheng inevitably became damp; its timbre sounding dull.
I dabbed at the darkened surface with napkins, hoping to absorb some of the moisture.
"Pfft."
I heard a scoff and looked up to see something flying towards me.
I quickly raised my hand to catch it. It was a plastic bag containing soft cotton pads and desiccant packets, thrown from Madam Lilia's direction.
Is she... helping me?
Everything she has done today baffles me.

"Thank you so much. I'll have your coat dry-cleaned..."
"Don't bother. Don't misunderstand, I just didn't want to see such a fine guzheng ruined by the rain."
She turned away to close the window. The rain had stopped, but the air remained humid.

Did she say... guzheng?
"You... you're familiar with this instrument? That's quite unusual. Most people I've met here don't recognize it."
Could this be the similarity Grandmother mentioned—that we both know the guzheng?

Unfortunately, she did not say another word as we made our way back to the grocery store.
I would have loved to discuss this further with her. I was curious to understand a human's perspective on guzheng performance and composition...
But she clearly didn't wish to be disturbed.

Once, I had a sense of belonging, and my heart was at peace. But now... no, it's not just about belonging... Since leaving Griffin, I've gradually lost my sense of direction.
What should I... do...?

"Beep, beep!"
My communication terminal alerted me to a new message.

"Sorry, big sis! I've been swamped and couldn't reply earlier. You know, I've been doing so well here that Helian keeps giving me challenging tasks. I'm busy as a bee! How are you doing? Have you recovered your data?"
Before I could respond, a second message arrived.
"Just to be clear, I'm not worried at all. I know my big sis is always the absolute best!"

Though both messages were brief, I spent a long time reading them.
97's cheerful and energetic mood shone through her words, helping me relax a bit and feel more grounded—

Oh! For those who prefer not to communicate verbally, perhaps written words would be a better approach?
So... shall I try a different method of communication?
I retrieved some blank paper and began composing a letter, with reference to the proper format.

Hmm... first, I should express my gratitude for her assistance...
Then... I'd like to inquire if she also plays the guzheng. If so, I hope we might discuss performance... composition... and related topics.
Finally, offer my thanks once more...
There, this should adhere to the expected norms for leaving a message in human society.

I took the note, folded it into a neat square, opened my door, and approached my neighbor's entrance.
I'll leave the note by her door and wait for a reply. That should suffice, right?

...I thought of 97's messages again.
Adapting to the ever-changing Griffin must have required tremendous effort on her part.
97 is progressing in her own way, so I, her sister who is "always the absolute best", mustn't fall behind.
Madam Lilia's two recent acts of kindness suggest her demeanor has softened—though she claims it was solely for the sake of my guzheng.

The iron door before me bore streaks of reddish-brown rust. I placed the note beside it.
Well, we shall see what comes of this.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Vera's Grocery Store, District D5, Satellite City CHE-09
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 95
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

After slipping a fifth note under Miss Lin Yu's door, I finally got a response—three paper books.
I gently opened one of them. The yellowed pages were slightly worn, and the title "Elementary Music Theory" was inscribed on the cover. A small note tucked in the front page fluttered out, bearing a single sentence:
"Don't bother me until you've finished reading it."
I couldn't help but smile softly. Though unsigned, such writing unmistakably belonged to Miss Lin Yu.

I must say that Miss Lin Yu's materials were truly invaluable, especially "Research on Guzheng Music Composition Techniques." It contained a vast array of pieces I must have performed in the past. For each composition, the author meticulously analyzed the background, structure, mode, tonality, and harmony, unveiling the essence of the music before my eyes.
The terminology aligns neatly with my program's commands, making comprehension quite simple.
In this era, these books are indeed precious resources.

Days flowed by with their usual rhythm as I continued my composing—balancing work and creative pursuits. Whenever I encountered a creative block, I would seek Miss Lin Yu's guidance through carefully written notes.
Miss Lin Yu maintained our correspondence, replying once for every ten messages I sent her. Though her responses were few, each and every one of them helped refine my score a little more.
In a moment of clarity, I realized—I was gradually able to push open that heavy, half-closed door. The faint light beyond it was slowly becoming dazzling and bright.

Three months later, I wrote down "Chongming" in the title space of my manuscript. My first original composition had come to life.
How wonderful! I must... quickly inform 97 of my progress.
Ah, for a Doll, this could be considered growth, couldn't it?

After sending an email to 97, I opened a new document. I longed to share with that person how I had taken a step towards growth.
After writing the message, my gaze lingered on the lines, hesitating for a moment...
I closed the document.
When the Commander left Griffin, we all agreed to adhere to a certain agreement, and even without that agreement, I wouldn't know how to reach the Commander.
Unable to convey my thoughts... For now, I can only carefully preserve that music score until the day we meet again. I'm certain I'll have composed many more pieces by then.
I'll play all of them one by one for the Commander at that time.

Besides the Commander and 97, there's one more person I hope could hear this piece—Miss Lin Yu.

I meticulously transcribed the score, stored it safely, and then took out a few more sheets of paper.
Not only do I wish to share the score with Miss Lin Yu, but I also want to express my gratitude.
She has provided me with invaluable assistance and helped me understand the profound difference between creating from the heart and playing according to a fixed program.
For me now, music and the guzheng have gained an entirely new significance.

This moment is one truly worth commemorating.
I gazed at the blank author column, pondering for a moment.
Instead of "Type 95", I inscribed "Daiyan"—a name I once used, which seemed more fitting for a performer.
After some consideration, I added "Lin Yu" in small characters beside it.

Carefully folding the papers, I placed them at Miss Lin Yu's door.

...

A considerable time passed before I heard a faint sound outside. I gently grasped the handle and opened the door.
The dimly lit corridor was empty, but a familiar stack of papers lay before my door.
Miss Lin Yu had returned my message, seemingly untouched...
As I gathered the papers, I noticed they had been opened and refolded. There was an additional note tucked inside—

"First, let me address the initial question you once asked me: Indeed, I not only recognize and understand the guzheng, but long ago, I was also a guzheng performer."
"There's something else you didn't ask but clearly wondered about: I harbor great resentment towards Dolls because they took my livelihood with their soulless performances, drove away my mentors and friends, and shattered my aspirations."
"But... you're different from typical Dolls. You don't play in that lifeless manner. Perhaps it's due to limitations in your capabilities, or some anomaly in your programming, but... I don't mind that kind of imperfect playing."

"And finally, there's one last thing you didn't inquire about, but I wish to tell you: When it comes to music, I will never, ever lose to a Doll."

Human expressions often leave me perplexed, requiring significant computational power to analyze, interpret, and comprehend.
Never ever losing to a Doll... What could that possibly mean?
Was it... that my performance was so poor it was unbearable to listen to?

As I pondered this, suddenly, I heard a sound! The sound of a guzheng!
Recovering from the brink of my computational overload, I realized it originated from next door—from my neighbor!
It was indeed the timbre of a guzheng. Though the notes were somewhat faltering, and the plucking was a little rough, it still shone brightly, like a beam of light piercing through the darkness.

I recognized it—it was the melody of "Chongming."

The tumultuous emotions eased, and I found myself smiling softly.
It wasn’t just me, but Miss Lin Yu had also rediscovered herself. Perhaps this was the true essence of music.
I turned my gaze back to my guzheng—new growth and future possibilities await me. When I next encounter old acquaintances, I wonder if they'll be pleasantly surprised?

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Twinkle Reborn

Summary

After being forced to leave Griffin & Kryuger, ^RF Mosin-NagantMosin-NagantMosin-Nagant has joined Group Seven of the Poltava and Surrounding Cities Public Security Administration, but her friendly attitude and work ethics acquired at Griffin is looked down upon in her new job, where regulations are enforced to the letter. Mosin turns to drinking alcohol and simulating being drunk to distract herself from the uncaring environment of her new job, until she meets friendly Dolls from another department who are interested in her past. But when she one day receives a message from them that vaguely resembles a call for help, Mosin ignores it to stick to regulations. Soon after, she finds that the Dolls have all been reformatted. She laments that she did nothing to help them and vows to not let others disappear because she lost her spirit again.

During another dispatch, Mosin's team is in charge of breaking up a protest from the anti-Dolls group nicknamed the Diego Faction. The protest turns into a riot after someone throws a Molotov cocktail, which reminds Mosin of the call for help she had previously ignored, which mentioned a gas station. Ignoring her orders to investigate on a hunch, Mosin finds that a nearby gas station has been rigged to explode and successfully guides her human handler to find and capture the terrorists. After making the news as a local hero and being promoted as team captain, Mosin finally breaks through to the Dolls in her team and sympathizes with them.

When put in charge of finding an extra member for her team, Mosin finds that her former colleague ⁴ PPSh-41PPSh-41PPSh-41, now named Papasha, has also joined Public Security but has no assignation after being accused of violent behavior. Despite the risk to her own career, Mosin helps Papasha by transferring her to her own team.

Journal Entry 1

Neural Link check... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: Doll Squad under Group Seven of the Poltava and Surrounding Cities Public Security Administration
Body Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: M1891
Mission Number: █████
Time: N/A
Status: In Progress

Beep- Beep- Beep- Beep-
The siren doesn't fade away as it usually does when the patrol car moves further away. It's now looping in my auditory module—what is usually considered a harsh sound now feels surprisingly soothing.
Because I, the Nagant! Sitting right in the patrol car!
Yes, I've become a public security doll.
Today is my first day with the Public Security Administration, stationed in a small city near Poltava. It's rumored that it will soon receive a new code name, POL-03. This shows how much hope is placed in this city. Some cities already have official codes and administrative divisions, but we don't have that yet.
Luck is always on my side. On my very first day at the department, an emergency occurred, and I was quickly assigned to the patrol car.
This is a great opportunity! Next, I need to demonstrate the qualities of a Griffin Elite Doll and make a great impression! Yes, I need to perform well and not let down the Commander who has always mentored me!

But... there's something that's bothering me...
Why... are my new colleagues so quiet?
One administrator and three public security dolls, some resting with their eyes closed or attending to their tasks. In the spacious patrol car, only the siren and engine noises are continuously echoing.
This is · so · awkward!
The silence makes me uneasy. If I don't speak up, it feels like I’ll be consumed by the storm of silence!
"Com...comrades, hello! I’m Mosin-Nagant, the new member of the W12 district Public Security Administration. Let's support each other from now on!"
What comes out is my self-introduction, which was interrupted by the mission notification during my previous report. The others in the vehicle direct their attention towards me because of my words.
"Hmm."
The administrator responds with a nasal hum to show he heard me. The doll colleagues lower their heads or close their eyes.
Huh!? What's...what's going on here? My colleagues' reactions are a bit cold. It's nothing like... what it was at Griffin!

... Well, perhaps their personality is initially set to be introverted. As public security dolls, it's quite reasonable for them to be reserved and serious. There are many with similar traits in Griffin as well.
But this isn't conducive to teamwork. As an experienced "senior," it's my duty to take on the responsibility of integrating the team!
I try to start a conversation with the doll sitting to my left.
"I don't know your name yet. What is it?"
"... Clara."
"Oh~ such a nice name! Do you know what this emergency is about?"
"Some common public security issues."
“Common... ah... so you must be quite skilled, then? What do we need to do?"
"You'll find out when we get there."
After saying this, the doll named Clara turns her head and starts pretending to review documents.
So she's just shy~
I turn to another doll colleague to start a conversation, but before she can respond, the administrator interrupts me. Through the rearview mirror, I see him frown slightly.
"Hey, you, Nagant, right?"
"Yes!"
"You sure talk a lot, don't you? You're the new doll here, right? I remember you were from..."
"Griffin! Reporting, sir! I was originally a Tactical Doll assigned to Griffin!"
"Griffin... that previous large P.M.C., right? Is this how chatty your P.M.C's Dolls usually are?"

Griffin from back then…
The administrator's question brings memories of Griffin's past to neural.
Yes, back at Griffin, we frequently faced dangerous missions, but we always managed to come through safely. Under the guidance of our commander, we supported each other amidst laughter and jokes, charging into one battlefield after another…
Actually... I wanted to stay at Griffin.

Unfortunately, even the most wonderful things must come to an end, and Griffin eventually faced disassembly and reorganization. Soon, three paths lay before me: stay with Griffin, accept reassignment, or find my own way.
We are all Tactical Dolls, and it's likely that most would choose to stay with Griffin, but there were only a few spots available. Compared to the more advanced newer models, my outdated version had little competitiveness.
If I waited for the results, there might be very few placement spots left, and I would be left with no choice but to find my own path... I made my decision quickly.
I would accept placement.

Initially, I thought I would be assigned to urban sanitation or reception duties. I may be "noble-blooded"... but my model is rather old.
So when I found out I would be assigned to a public security squad, I was so excited that I almost jumped for joy and felt like hugging Helian on the spot.
Great! I’m determined to use the most of the combat experience I gained over the years at Griffin and do my best for this city!

"Haha, that's right! We sometimes liven things up before a mission to help everyone relax; it's good for improving combat efficiency!"
"I remember! There was a junior who used to be on my team, and she was always tense before a mission."
"But don't worry, even at Griffin, I was an experienced senior. Look forward to my performance!"

"Hmph, all this fuss. The logistics department is cutting costs by accepting older Tactical Dolls, but they even skimp on the neural reset process. Isn't this just creating more trouble for me?"
Hmm? Neural reset?
Uh, is the administrator angry? Maybe I should act more professionally.
"Reporting, sir! What is my mission in this operation?"
"It's all in the Handbook, isn't it?"
Handbook? Oh, right, during my report- I did upload a Public Security Doll Operations Handbook. The emergency happened so suddenly that I didn't have time to read it carefully.
Just as I was about to review the Handbook, I heard the administrator's voice, which carried a threatening tone.
"Newbie, let me warn you, this isn't the relaxed environment you're used to. Dolls need to strictly follow the on-site instructions and the Handbook, and refrain from taking unnecessary initiatives."

The sudden reprimand leaves me confused, and I respond with uncertainty.
This new job seems different from what I imagined.

Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Doll Squad under Group Seven of the Poltava and Surrounding Cities Public Security Administration
Frame Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: Three-Line Rifle M1891
Mission number: ████
Time: N/A
Status: Completed

The siren ceases as the patrol car arrives at the scene.
This is the suburbs, where a solitary three-story villa with a garden stands tall. The surrounding environment is clean and elegant, in stark contrast to the crowded and chaotic streets and buildings encountered along the way.
What clashes with the serene environment were the instigators of the incident—a group of shabbily dressed and disheveled civilians who appear gaunt and exhibit the typical symptoms of malnutrition.

The villa's gate has been splashed with various colors of paint, looking like chaotic graffiti devoid of any aesthetic appeal; the walls are covered with overlapping dark red slogans, filled with profane and vulgar words.
The protesters are climbing over the wall, throwing bottles, rotten eggs, and mud into the villa, while shouting disjointed slogans.
"Protest against the heartless capitalists, illegal layoffs must be punished!"
"We want bread! We want work!"
"To hell with the job-stealing machines!"

I've carried out various missions, but I admit this kind of scene is the first I've encountered.
Combining their slogans and inputting them into the analysis module, the result returned—the people before me were likely victims of an act known as "illegal layoffs". Their former employer presumably resides in this villa.
Comparing the behavior of these victims with the rules and regulations in the "Public Security Doll Operations Handbook", the returned outcome is clear: this is a case of public disturbance, and they are trespassing upon others' private property. I need to "immediately control the other party's freedom of action, prevent further damage, and bring them back to the Public Security Management Department for investigation."
Arresting the victims...
Conflict Detected, Unable to Execute.
Just as I was about to perform further processing, a loud shout from the administrator echoed through my auditory module.
"Mosin-Nagant! What are you spacing out for? Are you malfunctioning? Do I need to recite what's written in the handbook? Hurry up and arrest them!"
"But..."
"But what? Do your job! Stop talking nonsense!"

My Doll colleagues around me have already started approaching the protesters according to their preset formations.
No, to maintain Griffin's reputation, I must show professionalism... Follow the mission instructions and the "handbook"...
I join the encirclement team and move closer towards the protesters, who have long since noticed us.
They all grip tightly whatever can be called a weapon within their hands—

"Damn rusty pieces of scrap metal! Don't come any closer, or I'll fight you to the end!"
Suddenly, a middle-aged man in the crowd pulls out a gun.
A gun!
According to projections, relying solely on melee weapons to carry out the arrest would result in damage to the body as high as 90%. However, according to the "handbook", under the premise of armed resistance from the other party, security Dolls can use firearms to assist in the arrest.
I reach for the gun at my waist, but the administrator notices my movement.
"Mosin-Nagant! Don't you dare draw your gun! If you accidentally shoot and injure someone, I won't take responsibility!"
"But, we can't arrest them without damaging our bodies—"
"What are you afraid of? Dolls won't die, and if your bodies are damaged, we'll repair you. Get in there!"
My Doll colleagues, long accustomed to this situation, showed no hesitation.
I fall a step behind, draw my baton, and follow.

Thanks to my combat experience accumulated during my time at Griffin, we controlled the protesters without significant losses. After all, they're just civilians without professional training, and even with guns, they lack combat capabilities.
Nevertheless, my colleague Clara still suffered damages to her body, although it was nothing serious.
"I underestimated you before, your performance is impressive," the administrator glanced at me. "Very good, the mission was completed well. Keep it up."
"Take these people back, Mos... Mosin-Nagant, right? You're in charge, don't cause any more trouble on the way back."
"I have some matters to attend to, so I'm not coming back with you. Do your best."
The administrator leaves the scene.
Is this what they call... being acknowledged?

The patrol car carrying the protesters was on its way back to the Public Security Management Department.
The silent atmosphere was the same as when we arrived, I lost interest in conversation, my neural cloud replaying the event that had just transpired.
Although they violated the "Public Security Management Regulations," they were also victims, right?
I couldn't ignore this matter, so I inquired my Doll colleagues that were around me.

"Those people... they mentioned earlier that they were "illegally laid off." Does this matter need to be investigated?"
"...Actually, you don't need to—"
"Galina, no need to tell her so much," Clara interrupts Galina, then looks at me with something in her eyes I don't quite understand, "Didn't your dear administrator already tell you? Mind your own business, don't cause trouble."
"But, as security Dolls, isn't upholding the law our job?"
"Things not explicitly written in the "handbook" are outside our job scope, doing these won't benefit you, don't implicate—"

"Bullshit!"
The protester in the back seat suddenly shouted loudly. It was the man who pulled out the gun earlier.
"Minding our own business? So many of us are struggling to make a living for our families, and in your eyes that's just minding our own business?
"Haha, indeed. You bunch of metal clankers. No family, no friends, no illness, no disaster, just broken tin heads. In that case, what is minding your own business to you? I have a whole family to feed!
"I took a day off to go home and take care of my sick father, and guess what. When I came back, all my colleagues had turned into Dolls!
"A few days later, the boss fired me too, saying that I was lazy! Hah, lazy! I'm a person! Compared to Dolls that can work 24 hours with just a power cable, who isn't lazy?!
"Listen to me! One day, I'm going to dismantle you bunch of metal freaks into scrap!"

The protester became increasingly agitated, accompanied by and gestures filled with vehemence and abhorrence alongside the cursing. My Doll colleagues watched this scene impassively, Clara quietly clicked her tongue muttered softly "Diego Faction".
Diego Faction?
What does that mean?
The protester's shouted words completely exceeded my cognition, this was something I had never experienced before at Griffin. My neural cloud went into overdrive, trying to parse the meaning of his words, but applying any form of logic seemed impossible, I couldn't derive any usable results, which causing a brief system skip, to the extent that Clara's "Diego Faction" was also drowned in the verbal storm.

By the time I could regain control of my neural cloud, the protester had finally exhausted his energy and calmed down.
I observed this protester, messy hair, gaunt face, stained shirt... hm? That is!
"You're bleeding!"
Around the metal restraints binding his wrists, it was a mess of blood and flesh, a wound caused by friction during the earlier emotional outburst.
"Let me bandage that for you! Don't worry, I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing from my time at the PMC.! First, I need to remove the restraints..."
"Stop, you can't remove the restraints."
"But he's injured!"
"Based on the condition of his wound and the remaining journey distance, there's no life-threatening danger, nor will it cause the injury to worsen. According to the "handbook," it doesn't meet the criteria for removing his restraints. Mosin-Nagant, don't cause trouble."
Hearing Clara's words, the protester became agitated once more.
"To hell with you tin-cans, don't touch me!"
I lowered my outstretched hand.

For the following days, I worked diligently just as I did at Griffin.
However, the surrounding environment was very different from Griffin.
I thought that incident had caused an error in my neural cloud, I tried hard to drive that incident out of my mind, until that day.
"Mosin-Nagant, go to the logistics department and get an ink cartridge."
"Roger that~ Administrator, leave it to me!"
Arriving at the logistics department office, I overheard conversation coming from the nearby corridor not far ahead. It was Galina and Clara. As my name was mentioned in the conversation, I stopped in my tracks.
"That Mosin-Nagant, I see she's very attentive to humans."
"Indeed, but what's the use, humans just treat us as tools anyway, it's a waste of effort, what a dumbass."
...

Such disparagement, like a huge amount of data, suddenly bombarded my neural cloud. So this is how they see me...
After digesting the contents of their conversation, I understood the reason for the low morale I felt in the department.
With the door of the logistics department in front of me, fashioned in a completely different decorating style from Griffin's, I finally realized that this is no longer Griffin.

The Dolls here are different from my colleagues at Griffin, and the humans here are certainly not like the Commander.
The Dolls here won't understand me, and the Commander who always guided and cared for me won't appear for a long time...

Commander, I'm very confused.
I'm just working diligently, and want the mission to be completed smoothly. I'm not intentionally trying to please anyone...

I walked over expressionlessly and opened the door: "Hello, I'm Mosin-Nagant, I'm here to pick up an ink cartridge."
The corridor instantly fell silent, and soon I heard the sound of hurried footsteps leaving.

Returning to the department, I was about to hand over the ink cartridge to the administrator when Clara's words echoed in my neural cloud.
"What's the use, humans just treat us as tools anyway, it's a waste of effort, what a dumbass."
I deliberately controlled the artificial muscles in my face, no longer showing any expression related to friendliness. I placed the ink cartridge on the administrator's desk without saying a word.
But the administrator merely glanced at the ink cartridge, nodded, and dismissed me.
His behavior showed no difference compared to usual, Dolls really are just tools after all.
But anyway... this is not the Commander, I just need to work diligently without caring about the other humans' opinions.

That's right... just work diligently...

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural Link check... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: Doll Squad under Group Seven of the Poltava and Surrounding Cities Public Security Administration
Body Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: M1891
Mission number: None
Time: N/A
Status: None

Occasional sirens sound outside the window.
I am in a tavern in a neighboring jurisdiction, where the air is murky, the environment noisy, and the strong liquor abundant—though the setting is far from elegant and comfortable, it is much more pleasant than being in the Public Security Administration.
Yes, I escaped, though only temporarily.
When I was manufactured, due to my lineage, the engineers installed a feeding module in me.
Although I once worried that drinking might harm my image, I’m now relieved to have found a way to ease my emotions.
No one here knows me. As long as I pay, even as a doll, the owner can't throw me out.
I lift my glass and take a gulp of "Northland Mule", using my programming to simulate a dizzying effect—I relish my time alone.
……

"Speaking of which, haven't there been a lot of police cars recently?"
"Well, the city's been in chaos, the public security folks have their hands full."
"Hehe, they can deal with their own problems. Just hope nothing happens to me."
"It's hard to say. The doll shop downstairs was mysteriously vandalized this morning, and they still haven't caught the perpetrators..."
Capturing the keyword "public security," my relaxation is interrupted, and my neural system automatically pulls up relevant information…
The number of public security incidents has increased by 70% compared to last month, violent incidents by 132%, and the proportion of incidents involving dolls has risen sharply.
... Connecting this with the increasingly hostile stares and harsh curses from the residents, I have a feeling that something bad is about to happen.

I chug the Northern Mule in my hand and shout loudly, "I'm just an old model, a regular public security doll. What can I do about it!"
The people around me are startled, seemingly worried that I might lose control, and they quickly step back. The bartender rushes over, eyeing me warily.
"Sir, please don't make a scene."
"Eh... sorry."
After apologizing and settling the bill, I quickly flee the tavern. How embarrassing! But, I feel much better.
Everything... will get better, it'll be fine...

But... what are they doing?
Walking down the street, I plan to take a stroll before heading back to my jurisdiction, but as I stand at the intersection waiting for the light to change, I notice three or four people with makeshift weapons exiting a van beside me. In front of them is a doll shop.
... Are they going to vandalize the store?
I should stop them!
... No...
This isn't my squad's jurisdiction. According to the "Public Security Android Operations Handbook," I don't have the authority to enforce the law outside my designated area. If a conflict breaks out and I hurt them, I could get disciplined.
But... to just walk away...
I glance at the surveillance camera on the street corner and sigh.
There's a public security doll present at the scene of the incident, watching as a violent act occurs... it would seem quite troublesome...
So… Contact the dolls in charge of this jurisdiction and let them handle it.
Yeah... once they arrive, I'll leave immediately. Whatever happens after that has nothing to do with me.
Perfect!

"Thank you for contacting us. Please stay put, we'll be there shortly!"
However, things didn't go as smoothly as I had hoped. The doll squad responsible for this area arrived in no time, quickly subdued the thugs, and immediately called out to me as I was turning to slip away quietly.
"We've been chasing these guys all day. Thanks for the tip! According to internal communications records... you're Nagant from Group Seven, right? What are you doing here?"
"...I came to drink..."
Let me go quickly, it's such a hassle...
"Hurry up and bring them in!"
From a distance, their administrator begins to urge them. The doll in front of me sticks out her tongue apologetically. "Thanks! Next time, if we get the chance, let's have a drink together… on us!"
Afterward, the public security dolls put the thugs into the patrol car and departed.

Dolls without a feeding module cannot drink, and maintaining a feeding module is an additional expense. Generally, dolls not designed for special purposes do not have feeding modules installed.
In other words... there won't be a next time...

But not long after, I really received an invitation from them.
We sit at the same position in the tavern where I sit alone.
They do not have feeding modules installed, but they each order a drink, smelling and examining it.
That day, we had a long conversation, and I learned why they were so enthusiastic towards me—they were custom-made dolls by the relevant departments to assist with public security and had only recently been manufactured. I was the first doll from P.M.C. they had met.
I shared many of my unique experiences from my time at Griffin with them. They mentioned that they also hoped to have a chance to leave this city and explore the world…
Their names are Chelsea, Flinn...
They...

Will I ever see them again?

Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 4

Neural Link check... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: Doll Squad under Group Seven of the Poltava and Surrounding Cities Public Security Administration
Body Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: M1891
Mission Number: None
Time: N/A
Status: In Progress

The sirens on the streets are more piercing and frequent than usual, but my auditory module automatically filters them out.
I am on duty, but my neural system is processing a thread completely unrelated to work.
… With the rest day approaching, Chelsea gave me a bottle of "Starka" last month. It seems only right to return the favor, doesn't it?
Hmm... since they can't eat, perhaps I'll give them some nice little decorations, like medals or trinkets…

"Hey, you're in charge of security, right? I'm talking to you!"
"Oh, yes, I am... How may I assist you?"
An irate middle-aged woman interrupts my thoughts, and I quickly switch to work mode.
"Are you even doing anything? I've complained several times. Look at this river—it's so foul-smelling. How can anyone live around here…
I'm used to such complaints, but what can I do? I prepared a few standard responses and began to allocate hashrate while continuing to reflect on my earlier thoughts.
As the woman rambles, my communication terminal rings—it's Chelsea!
I happily answer the call, but the signal seems unstable. From the intermittent sounds, I can barely piece together...
"Diego... gathering... gas station."
Diego, I heard that word again!
I originally thought it was just a common name. Could it have another meaning?

Before I could ask, the woman started causing a scene again, so I had to temporarily cut off the call to handle her.
After sending her away, I plan to call Chelsea again to inquire about the situation, but my first attempt goes unanswered.
Just as I’m about to dial again, a sudden thought makes me stop mid-dial.
Gathering... doesn't sound dangerous. Most importantly, this isn't within our jurisdiction. Without a formal assistance order, I can't operate outside my area...
Maybe I should... stay out of it? Otherwise, I might cause trouble for Chelsea and the others...
...Probably, everything will be fine...

A few days later, on the rest day, I took the initiative to contact them.
"The number you dialed is not in use."
That's strange... how could it be a disconnected number?
Could they be angry—no, no, even if they were angry, they wouldn't cancel their numbers.
"Diego... gathering... and gas station..."
I recall Chelsea's interrupted call.

Diego... gathering... and gas station...
If taken literally, does it mean that someone named Diego is organizing a gathering near a gas station?
Hmm... they might be dealing with something important and using mission-specific numbers, temporarily abandoning their regular ones. Yes... that must be it. Don't scare yourself.
And even if I worry, I can't really help. Cross-jurisdictional enforcement might even get me in trouble with the administrator.
Right, that's it... but...
Simply crossing jurisdictions to drink shouldn't be an issue, right...
And... if I happen to run into them and explain myself, they should understand...
Yes... everything will be okay, right...

I circled around the jurisdiction Chelsea and her team are responsible for most of the day, but I didn't find any trace of the doll squad assigned to this area. Finally, I went alone to the tavern where we often hang out, and unexpectedly, I saw them patrolling.
See, everything is fine!

"Chelsea, Flinn! Long time no see! I know you're busy, so I didn't want to bother you. How are you?"

I wave and quickly approach them.
Hearing my words, Chelsea turns around, but the words coming from her sound module are different from usual.
"Hello, how can I assist you?"
She looks cold and distant, completely unlike the lively and adorable person I first met.

Is she... angry?
"You... are you angry? I didn't mean to cut off the call. You were on duty, and you know that public security dolls can't operate outside their jurisdiction, so I couldn't assist... I pace back and forth anxiously, trying to explain. "If you're upset, I apologize!"
"Hello, I don't understand your intention. Could you please provide more details?" Her expression remains unchanged.
"Also... do we know each other?"

She... doesn't recognize me... How is that possible?
But what she's saying is straight out of the "Public Security Doll Operations Handbook" templates...
Could it be... my computational module generates a terrifying hypothesis.
I repeatedly questioned every doll, but none of them knew me or remembered anything we shared. Even their behavioral logic and personality settings are entirely different from before.

I confirm the hypothesis... they... had their neural records erased and were reformatted.
Androids... don't die, but once reformatted, they become new dolls, strangers who don't know me. In a sense, it's like human death.
I've lost my friends forever.
I dare not look at them any longer. Amidst the blaring sirens, I flee in panic like a fugitive…
……

I return to the office in my jurisdiction.
What happened to them...

I reviewed recent internal documents from the public security administration and found a document titled "Notice Regarding Penalties and Related Announcements for Certain Jurisdictional Doll Squads." Since I usually filter out irrelevant work information, I only noticed this document now. It mentions…
"... In some jurisdictions, residents have complained excessively about the doll squads, and the squads' mission failure rate is too high..."
"A decision has been made to perform neural resets on these doll squad members, as listed below..."
I see Chelsea's name listed.
Chelsea, Flinn... the names of all the dolls I know in the adjacent jurisdiction are there.

Mission failures?! Was it related to that gathering mission...
I search recent news but find no leads.
When I'm unsure what to do, I receive an urgent mission notification.

"Tsk, Diego again," Clara speaks, her face showing impatience.
Diego... Diego!?
"Who is Diego!?"
I lunge at Clara, gripping her shoulders tightly. Clara is taken aback by my unusual behavior, stuttering as she speaks.
"Th... they're humans dissatisfied with dolls. Initially, there was an incident organized by someone named 'Diego.' Since then, dolls in the department have used the term privately to refer to them."
This... this is...
"Mosin-Nagant! Clara! What are you doing? Didn't you hear the assembly call?"
The administrator's urging breaks my train of thought, compelling me to board the patrol vehicle and prioritize handling the emergency.

Soon, we arrive at the scene—a public square within the city.
In front of us, a large crowd of humans holds up various signs and banners with slogans. They march around the square, shouting slogans like "Drive out the dolls, give us our jobs back", and throw cans and rocks at the androids maintaining order. On the sides of the road, there are many dolls with severely damaged bodies, awaiting recovery and repair.
As I observe the chaotic scene before me, my neural receives an unusual signal.
After assessing the situation, the administrator quickly assigns us to the teams maintaining order, filling in the gaps.
Faced with the pushing crowd, the debris scattered on the ground, and the fallen dolls, I feel a bit overwhelmed. Suddenly, a tall, thin man leaps onto a platform. He holds up a sign with a large photo. The photo shows a squad of dolls in security uniforms, their bodies severely twisted and deformed.
Even though the dolls' faces are severely damaged, I can immediately recognize them as Chelsea and her team.
Perhaps the image is too gruesome, and I quickly look away.
……
It's clear now. Chelsea and her team were attacked...
That call... was a call for help...
But I hung up the call...

The chaos continues. The man on the platform is replaced by a loud-voiced woman, and the sign falls to the ground.
The crowd keeps moving, while the dolls work hard to maintain order.
The sign remains on the ground, trampled by passing humans and dolls.
I...
I suddenly lose control of my body. I know I should stay where I am and follow the administrator's orders, but I find myself stiffly walking toward the sign.

I pick up the sign and gaze intently at the images of my friends, trying to piece together every moment we shared with these damaged body models.
In reality... I was aware of the danger, but I kept telling myself, "It'll be all right", to avoid facing the truth and numb myself.
Perhaps even if I had gone to help at that time, it wouldn't have made a difference... but as an experienced combat doll, I could have at least bought some time for rescue. Or, I could have tried to find the administrator to help them before the punishment was carried out... but... all those possibilities were lost because of my avoidance…
I shake my head to cleanse my thoughts and place the sign under a tree with less foot traffic.
I... cannot let this happen again!
I turn around and return to my assigned position. Fortunately, the administrator is preoccupied with the chaotic scene and hasn't noticed my brief absence.

I push my neural system to its maximum speed, trying to find a way to stop the unrest, but with the information I have, I'm unable to come up with effective solutions.
At this moment, the marching crowd shifts, and it seems that a group is moving against the flow.
Are they abandoning the gathering?
Suddenly, someone in the group raises a hand—it's the tall, thin man! He holds a Molotov cocktail! A Molotov cocktail!
He throws it into the densest part of the crowd, and for some reason, the fire spreads rapidly.
The crowd flees in panic, while the nearby dolls, following the administrators' orders, endure the searing flames to help evacuate the people.

Explosions keep erupting all around, and the flames climb higher and higher. My computational module indicates that something is amiss. Such a fire couldn't have occurred without prior preparation.
Over the communication channel, the administrator requests assistance from other areas while ordering us to join the firefighting efforts.
My colleagues have already started taking action, but I have a growing concern.
The Diegos... did they just want to throw a Molotov cocktail and start a fire? To deliberately bypass the security system checks to make Molotov cocktails... was it merely for a demonstration?
"Diego... gathering... gas station."
I recall the interrupted call.
Gas station... I check the map, and sure enough! At the upper left corner of the square, a short distance away...There's a gas station!
Molotov cocktail... gas station... a gathering that has attracted most of the city's security forces...
Someone… wants to detonate the gas station!

I quickly inform the administrator and my doll colleagues of my hypothesis, but no one responds.
Indeed, I have no evidence. In fact, I'm just speculating.
But this time, I won't use any excuses to stand by and watch a tragedy unfold!

I break away from the group and sprint toward the gas station at the corner of the square as fast as I can.

Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 5

Neural Link check... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: Android Squad under Group Seven of the Poltava and Surrounding Cities Public Security Administration
Body Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: M1891
Mission number: █████
Time: N/A
Status: In Progress

Urgent sirens echo from all directions, converging on this square.
I reach the gas station, which is some distance from the square. With everyone's attention focused on the rally, there is hardly a soul in sight here.
The gas station's lights are working normally. Under the canopy, cars are unevenly lined up. Cars of all sizes, with doors ajar, are left abandoned with no sign of their owners.
They must have noticed the violence escalating at the rally while waiting to refuel and fled in panic, abandoning their cars. It seems there was significant panic here earlier.
The vision module detects no abnormalities in the visible areas. Am I overthinking things?
No, I can't assume that! I shake my head and make my way to the service center at the gas station.

The service center's door is half-open, with various items scattered outside. After checking, none of these items are explosives or flammable materials. Just as I'm about to turn away, I notice signs that the service counter has been hit by something heavy.
Someone has fallen here!
A person in a work uniform is lying behind the counter. I quickly run over and carefully check them.
Fortunately, there's no immediate threat to their life... but they are seriously injured…
Based on the marks on the ground, it seems they were dragged here after collapsing. I try to wake them, but fail.
It turns out things are more complicated than expected... I should contact medical personnel and then conduct a thorough investigation.

If the plan is to blow up the gas station, the primary target would likely be the gasoline stored there.
I start looking up relevant information. Most modern gas stations have their fuel tanks buried underground, making direct access difficult. Thus, the simplest way to indirectly ignite the tanks would be to…
The computational module quickly provides the result: ignite the fuel dispensers.
I inspect the fuel pumps, but find no issues. So, I broaden my search and begin inspecting the row of misaligned cars.
I carefully inspect each car's dashboard and find that one vehicle, despite being in the middle of the line, has a full tank gauge.
Upon closer inspection of the vehicle, I found a bomb attached to the underside of the chassis.
Looking around, the cars are lined up bumper to bumper. If the bomb explodes, sparks will likely ignite the fuel dispensers and nozzles. Coupled with a chain reaction of explosions among the nearby vehicles, the consequences could be catastrophic, even though the gas station is some distance from the square.

I immediately report the situation to the administrator.
On the other end of the line, the administrator sounds extremely tense. He says he will report it immediately and use the broadcast system to evacuate the crowd from the square.
"Administrator, sir! No, it's a remote-controlled bomb!" I shout.
"A remote-controlled bomb?"
"Yes! If we broadcast now, the perpetrator might trigger the bomb immediately!"
"What... what do we do then?"
I check to make sure no one is watching, then carefully crawl under the car to inspect the bomb.
"Based on the transmitter's specifications, the signal range is limited, so the perpetrator is likely nearby."
"Moreover, since I've been investigating here for so long without any reaction from the perpetrators, it's likely that most of them have already retreated to safe areas after causing the chaos. There probably aren't many left here."
"So what do you propose?"
"The fire in the square was caused by someone throwing a Molotov cocktail. I saw the face of the person who did it! I suspect that person is the perpetrator. I'll sync the footage for everyone shortly."
It's completely silent around me; I can even hear the mechanical components inside me operating.
"Please, administrator, and other squad members, continue with the evacuation as usual and keep people away from the gas station. Next, focus on suspicious individuals moving away from the crowd, compare them with the footage, identify the person in the video, and apprehend him."
Staring at the bomb, I add, "I'll stay here to assist the bomb disposal team and guard against any suspicious individuals approaching. Please request professional bomb disposal personnel to come here immediately to disarm the bomb."
Silence fills the communication terminal.
"But... what if the perpetrator sees the crowd leaving the square and detonates the bomb?" Clara's voice suddenly breaks the silence, sounding hesitant.
Ah, the administrator must have enabled frequency sharing... to facilitate timely dispatch and command.
"... The perpetrator's target is the security dolls, and they aim to exacerbate the conflict between humans and androids. They probably won't care if the humans leave. Besides, Dolls from other jurisdictions are still on their way to provide reinforcements. They won't detonate the bomb so soon."
I control my emotions, hoping I don't come across as too disheartened.
"But... if there's a hiccup in the plan... you might..." Did I hear correctly? Galina actually sounds worried about me?
"Ah... I'm an elite combat doll from Griffin. This is nothing compared to the major situations I've faced!" I laugh. "Any other questions? If not, administrator, let's get moving! The situation is very critical!"
The communication terminal remains silent for 5 seconds, then the administrator's usual voice comes through.
"What are you waiting for? Evacuate the crowd!"
……

"Poltava United Morning News: According to a spokesperson from the public security administration, the suspect arrested last week for planning the explosion at the 'Anti-Doll' rally has confessed to the crime. The Public Security Department will conduct further investigations to determine if there were any other factors behind the incident."
"The spokesperson emphasized that while the unrest was instigated by extremists, the underlying human-doll relations also need to be addressed. In the future, relevant departments will closely monitor citizens' demands, promote the healthy development of human-doll relations, prioritize citizens' well-being, and make reasonable use of androids to effectively serve public needs."
"In this incident, it was precisely due to the deployment and use of public security dolls that the situation was managed with minimal casualties and..."
Beep-

"Just a bunch of dolls, don't waste your time on this nonsense, get to work!"
The administrator walks into the office and brusquely shuts off the screen. After casting a sharp glance at the dolls gathered around the screen and sending them back to their seats, he walks over to me.
"You, Nagant, starting today, you're the captain of our jurisdiction's Public Security Doll Squad."
"Huh? Captain? Me?"
"Don't 'me' me. It's the higher-ups' decision. You made a name for yourself in the recent events, and they've specifically appointed you as the team leader."
Is this... a promotion for me?
"Thank you! I'll work hard!"
"Don't get too excited. You're just being temporarily promoted as the 'hero android who prevented the bombing.' I warn you to be more diligent in your work from now on, especially with the citizens. Keep them satisfied, and the higher-ups will be at ease. Additionally, I still hold your management authority, so don't get any funny ideas.
"Um... I understand."
After seeing me nod, he turns away, muttering and shaking his head as he gets ready to leave.
"Those people, they can praise androids today after being saved, and tear them apart just as easily tomorrow..."
"Oh, right!"
He suddenly remembers something and turns back.
"Now that you're the captain, there's an empty spot in the squad. Choose someone from the system."
"...Dolls all look the same anyway."
This time, the administrator really leaves.

"Well... please, comrades, support me from now on!"
Feeling the awkwardness of the situation, I try to lighten the mood.
"I'll treat everyone to drinks tonight! Wait, not every doll has an eating module..."
"You don't have to do that. None of us wanted to be captain anyway. Except for someone like you, who's clueless and willing to take on the burden." Clara turns her head away.
"Clara... you're going too far! Nagant means well." Galina gently pulls Clara and gives me an apologetic smile. "I heard a famous dance troupe will be performing here this weekend. How about we check it out?" I'll buy the tickets."
"Ah ha ha, no problem! Oh, I'll buy the tickets!"

Seeing Clara looking away in embarrassment and Galina with a hint of apology, I think of Chelsea and the others.
After the rally ended, I went back to the tree where the sign had been, but it was gone, and everything related to Chelsea and the others had completely disappeared. However, the memories of them will remain in my mind.
I was able to get through my low point because of Chelsea and the others' companionship, and I became vigilant because of their sacrifice. I've lost friends because of my avoidance and negativity. From now on, I must control myself. At crucial moments, I must not let negative emotions control my mind.
Especially, I will not allow something like having a comrade's neural system erased to happen again.
I step forward and start chatting with Clara and the others about the performance.
……

After saying goodbye to my colleagues after work, I start addressing my first task as captain: filling the vacancy in the squad.
Entering the work system, I search doll profiles that haven't been assigned to a jurisdiction and find a familiar name—PPSh-41, listed as Papasha in the name field.
She's in Poltava too? I can't help but smile.
Hmm? The application date was several months ago?
Wait... why does her resume say... assaulted the administrator... causing serious injury? I verified it several times before confirming that this is indeed PPSh-41.
But PPSh-41... how could she be a doll that attacks others?
...What's going on, I can't help but smile wryly.
However, if she comes here and ends up hitting the administrator... my neural system is already running a scenario where I'm held accountable and both PPSh-41 and I are reset together.
No, no... PPSh-41 wouldn't do something like that without a reason! For her to lose her temper like that, there must be a significant reason. That Robert is probably no good.

So, everyone's had a tough time... Commander, where are you? If you were here, things wouldn't be like this...
I shake my head vigorously and keep reading. At the very bottom of the profile, there's a section for application reasons, which reads…
"To protect everyone!"
To protect... it seems that PPSh-41 has also been through a lot.
Well, now that I have a little power, I'll protect those around me.

First, starting with PPSh-41, no... now she should be called Papasha.
Starting with Papasha.

Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Bullet Echo

Summary

After the Commander disappears from Griffin & Kryuger, ^RF WA2000WA2000WA2000 becomes an independent gun-for-hire in CHE-02 in order to buy the Commander's location from the information brokers. Because she can't assess the quality of the information for herself, WA2000 sinks a large amount of commission money into the search. For one of her missions, she shoots a patron in a location called Cloud Café, only realizing later that the café is owned by her former colleague Springfield. Seeing Cloud Café struggle to retain customers after the incident, WA2000 feels guilty and makes up an excuse to visit and give Springfield the money to renovate the place. Springfield already knows the full story, but plays dumb and uses WA2000's guilt so she helps her complete more commissions to buy bulletproof glass, saying it is mandated by the city. In truth, Springfield is simply setting up her café to become a more secure intel exchange place.

When WA2000 eventually catches up to Springfield's ploy and confronts her, Springfield reveals in turn that she's also been keeping WA2000 in CHE-02 to protect her, after finding through her intel network that a bounty was placed on WA2000 because of the same job that put the café in trouble. Springfield also knows that WA2000 has been struggling to find reliable intel, so she offers her to keep completing commissions on the café's behalf, and in exchange Springfield would vet and transmit any intel about the Commander back to WA2000. Springfield also plans to use her intelligence network and the café to support former Griffin colleagues who fell on hard times. WA2000 accepts and Springfield decides to mark the new start for her café by changing its name to Zucchero. She also convinces WA2000 to choose a new name for herself, and she settles for a variation of the drink Springfield makes to satisfy her sweet tooth: Makiatto.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: N/A
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: W2000
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"For commission No. 37—the flower delivery due by 8 p.m. tonight—please notify the client to expedite the payment."
This was the first thing I said after entering Springfield's café. The café's interior was in a "transitory period", amid two phases of renovation; mismatched furniture styles clashed, each claiming half the space.
Springfield, with her head lowered, was cautiously moving the new light wood bar counter, clearly worried about knocking over the surrounding bottles and jars. She nodded when she saw me enter, keeping her focus on the task.
"How hard could this be? You're taking forever to move the bar. I doubt you can finish this by yourself!"
"Maybe... you're right." Springfield looked up, smiling gently, "In that case, WA2000, could you give me a hand and move the bar over there?" she asked, pointing to the cleared space.
"Hmph, this'll only take me a minute!"
I strode over and solved Springfield's problem without hesitation.
Springfield pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Thank you again, WA2000."
I curled my lip, scanning the current state of the café—

It was night; the temporary metal shutter outside the café had been lowered, signaling that it was closed to customers.
Ever since that incident, almost no patrons came during the day.
Except for those daring enough to not care about risking their lives.
The cracks and bullet holes still marred the glass doors and windows, though. Springfield had swept up the glass shards. Instead of replacing the glass, she opted for rolling shutters as a more practical and economical solution.
After that incident, Springfield insisted on bulletproof glass—and bulletproof glass is expensive.
Inside, the bar, tables, chairs, and even the wallpaper were all being replaced. Once the renovation was complete, I doubted any customer would recognize this place as the café where THAT incident occurred—aside from the fact that Springfield still ran the show.
I have to admit, revitalizing the café by redecorating, renaming, and relaunching—it was a logical way to move forward.

"Thank goodness for your help. Without you taking on commissions, easing the financial strain of the renovations, progress would be much slower."
Springfield kept smiling in that calm, gentle, polite way that always just rubbed me the wrong way—she’s always so polite, so unfettered!
It's precisely because she's like this that I can't... can't just walk away with a clear conscience. Otherwise... even if I couldn't find that idiot right now, it doesn't mean I would have to stay here in the café.
At the very least... at the very least, I could be near them.

"Hmph, I'm just lending you a hand. You've only been giving me small commissions—delivering flowers, bringing seafood, finding lost cats. They pay little yet demand so much; they aren't even worth the trouble, their only saving grace being the fact that they're simple! I told you before, if you could find me better-paying commissions, the café wouldn't still look like this."
I wouldn't be stuck in a satellite city. I could've used that money to buy the intel I needed to find that idiot...
"But those high-paying commissions come with similarly high risk. Your frame is very valuable—what if you get hurt?"
"W-Who'd get hurt that easily?! Just hand me the job! Don't tell me you think I'm incapable?!"
Springfield gently shook her head: "No, WA2000, everyone’s seen your skills back in Griffin. But with such high performance, you have to consider maintenance..."
Before Springfield could go on with her lecture, I cut her off.
"I'm not as fragile as you think! I'm an elite Doll—what's a few bumps and scrapes?!"
Whenever I vaguely hint that I want to earn more and leave for the Yellow Zone, Springfield always says I should reconsider, reminding me how precious my frame is and how easily it can be damaged. Every time she says that, it feels like I'm wrapped in a thick, warm blanket, unable to move no matter how hard I struggle.
I never noticed how fussy Springfield could be. What exactly is she aiming at?

"Well... but—" Springfield held her chin in thought for a moment, then looked back at me. "The Green Zone isn't like the Yellow Zone. With the government maintaining order here, those high-paying commissions would immediately put you under scrutiny—"
"I'm used to this kind of thing—I don't care. They won't catch me, anyway!"
Springfield's clear eyes met mine, her smile unchanged, yet I felt a subtle shift in her attitude.

"But if the café were to be targeted too, wouldn't all our efforts so far go to waste?"
Her gaze was too sincere, making me instinctively want to argue, but I couldn't find the words.
"Fine, fine! Anyway, all my current commissions come through you. If you're not giving them to me, then no matter how dangerous, I'd have no reason to take them on. I won't drag your precious place into it!"
Springfield blinked. her smile seeming to lighten a bit.
"Thank you, WA2000. Actually, I can't procure high-risk, high-reward commissions right now because our operations are still on the rise and we’re not too well-known. Clients aren't willing to trust us with those kinds of important commissions."
"Then, why the serious act just now...?! There was no need to be so tense!"
"No, WA2000, my concerns aren’t limited to just the café. Both the café and you are very important to me."
"W-What's that supposed to mean? Why are you saying suddenly saying things like that?!"
Springfield gently placed her hand on the light wooden bar beside her. "If the café is doing well, I can help more people. If WA2000 is doing well—"
She let her words linger but didn't finish her sentence.
"What? What about me being well?"
"Being well means... you can fulfill your own 'wish'."
Springfield slightly emphasized the word 'wish', reminding me of what I've always wanted to do—meet that idiot in the Yellow Zone and get everything out in the open! But still... it's hard to bring up.
"Ugh, I-I'm not like those stray cats roaming around the satellite city! You help people if you want, just don't drag me into it!"

Wait, what did she just say? That she wants to help more people?
Springfield, isn't that being a bit too good-hearted? Life in the satellite city is hard enough, and here she is, saying she wants to help others. Plus, inviting people to the café would mean a lot of collective activities, right?
Absolutely not. Unless absolutely necessary, I won't team up with others, whether they’re human or a Doll. Back at Griffin, I was used to being a lone wolf. I'm only helping Springfield now because I have my reasons.
The only person I could slightly trust—no, the person I once trusted—left me behind and snuck off to the Yellow Zone without a word.
They’re a bonafide jerk! I need to confront that idiot face-to-face!
No, now's not the time to think about that idiot. After what that idiot did, they're not even worth thinking about!

"I trust you, WA2000. That's why I'm telling you what I really think."
Springfield's words snapped me out of my thoughts.
"You used to work in the intelligence department at Griffin! And yet, you trust others so easily. Haven't you ever heard of secrecy?!"
"But I believe WA2000 is someone I can trust."
"T-Trust?! What nonsense are you spouting? I, uh, well, yes, I am very reliable and capable. I was an elite at Griffin, after all, and I'm absolutely capable of keeping important information confidential. Rest assured, not a single word will leak out!"
Springfield covered her mouth and laughed softly, no longer pursuing the topic. Instead, she asked a question that was both unexpected and completely within her character.
"WA2000, how's your taste module functioning? Last time, when I treated you to coffee, you added ten times the usual caramel and still didn't find it sweet. If you need a taste module replacement, I can help..."
"I just like caramel, that's all. My taste module is fine!"
I quickly touched my cheek, surprised that Springfield had caught on. I hadn't really maintained my taste module since Griffin disbanded. After all, earning money to buy intel about that idiot took priority.

"Still, it's best to stay on top of things. Your frame is expensive, and if neglected, it could lead to major issues..."
"I said it's fine! And I came to say something important! Let me repeat, then! Commission No. 37 is complete, so hurry up and get the client to pay! I'm done here; so, I'm leaving!"
It's already the middle of the night—why am I lingering here for so long?
"Alright. If you ever need anything, do let me know."
"I know, I know! No need to make it so complicated!"
"Please come again, WA2000."
Springfield said with a smile, opening the rolling metal shutter.
The scraping of steel echoed across the street. In the hazy light, the vibrant night colors of the Green Zone shone through the shattered glass, spilling into the café. In the glow, I briskly left.
Just as I so came.

Log entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: N/A
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: W2000
Mission ID: 0086
Time: Day ██
Status: In Progress

My name is WA2000. After Griffin got restructured, I used the little savings I earned from various jobs to settle down in the Green Zone.
I currently do not have enough to own my own property, but it's more than enough to live comfortably and rent in a bigger home. But even so, I want to leave the Green Zone more than anyone else. I need to find that person who's "back from the dead" and get some answers.
No! Why am I thinking about that jerk again!
They're a damn traitor! Even if the agreement's in effect, they can't just go hide in the contamination zone without leaving a single word behind! At least... at least they could've contacted me. Do they even know how worried I am!?
I don't give a damn about the agreement; when I find you, you're going to pay!

However, finding someone in a contamination zone is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Any action taken without intel is pointless, and intel costs money; thus, I am staying in the Green Zone for now, trying to earn some cash by taking on high-risk jobs.
This time, the job I got was very different from the previous ones.
The client wanted me to incapacitate a businessman who came to the satellite city from the White Zone while making sure they stayed alive.
Incapacitate but not kill them—sounds complicated, but all it basically meant was that I simply needed to seriously injure the target.
Once I figured out what to do, I immediately started preparing.

First, I needed to confirm the areas where the target might pass through. The client was considerate enough to provide a map of all the routes the target might take and sent it to me to ensure the operation went smoothly.
According to the intel, no matter what route the target takes, there was a point where it all converged—a café in District K7 of CHE-02 Satellite City.
So, assuming the intelligence is accurate, this café is the best place to set up my ambush.
However, to make sure everything goes off without a hitch, I've decided to scout the location out in advance.

If this operation goes smoothly and I'm paid my dues, I'll have enough money to buy the intel I want.
I arrived at the mission location and saw a bustling café called... Cloud Café.
Who came up with such a fluffy name?!
And why did the owner's silhouette look so familiar... But that’s not a pressing matter, I need to stay focused!

The client's intel showed that the target would pass by here in three days. After factoring in obstructions from various buildings, I determined the best shooting position: the rooftop of a hotel 200 meters away.
That hotel was hiring service Dolls as maids.
...To complete the mission, I'll just deal with it!

I joined the long application line at the hotel. I had to keep my cool and put on a harmless smile like Springfield, whom I met back at Griffin. I managed to get the job by the end.
Wait, why did I think of her all of a sudden?
Forget it, better focus on the task at hand.

After two days of serving dishes at the hotel, I finally saw the target pass by the café.
He even ordered a cup of coffee.
The person who brought him the coffee was the café owner I saw before. Her face was hidden by the curtains, and I couldn't see her clearly.
That strange sense of familiarity hit me again, but I shrugged it off and focused on the job.
After avoiding any other people, I headed to the safe spot I had planned in advance and took out my sniper rifle I had quietly placed nearby. After completing the necessary preparations, I aligned my crosshairs with the target.
He was casually drinking his coffee. After taking a small sip, he leaned back into the chair, relaxed.
A golden opportunity! Devoid of hesitation, I decisively pulled the trigger.

I had taken into account all the variables like wind speed, potential zeroing errors, and the momentum caused by the recoil itself. A specially modified bullet with reduced powder load will leave the barrel, follow a parabolic trajectory, accurately break through the café's glass window, and hit the target's abdomen.
Sure enough, the bullet found its mark. The target had been knocked back, blood splattered everywhere, and with the panicking nearby customers, the situation quickly descended into chaos.
I could not allow him to die like this, so I dialed the emergency hotline.

In the chaos, I saw the café owner push through the crowd and quickly approached the target. I saw her sharply glance towards my sniping position.
But it was too late. I'm an elite, a trained professional; why would I still be there?
However... I took this chance to clearly identify her—it was Springfield.

I did hear in passing about Springfield wanting to open a café, but still, what a coincidence... I would have chosen a different place had I known she would be there.

After that, to avoid suspicion, I continued working at the hotel for a while and deliberately made mistakes to get myself fired by the HR department.
To everyone else, I was just an ordinary service Doll with poor performance who occasionally glitched and would never be associated with any dangerous missions.

Not long after, the client transferred me the payment. After paying this month's rent, I still had a considerable amount left.
I should have immediately purchased that person's intel and left the satellite city. But... after the incident, the deteriorating state of Cloud Café always caught my attention...
I was just completing a commission, it just so happened that the target liked to frequent Cloud Café! It had nothing to do with me!
But... a-as it did affect a "former colleague", I should probably pay her a visit... It's also to eliminate any potential subsequent trouble. Yes, that's all it is!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: N/A
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: W2000
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

The lights were dim, and the sign at the door looked equally lifeless—those once fluffy clouds now looked both dark and gloomy.
One of the glass windows had cracked like a spider web, with a hole in its center—a hole that I had made.
I gripped the cold door handle and carefully pushed the door of the café open. The place was empty, yet all the tables and chairs were very well arranged. However, the overall style was quite plain, with nothing reminiscent of what I viewed to be "Springfield."

"WA... 2000?"
Sure enough, it was Springfield's voice.

I turned stiffly, putting on a surprised look.
"S-Springfield? It's been a while... How come you're here too?"
"After Griffin’s restructuring, I opened this café here."
"Ah. Um, your place is quite spacious."
"It's alright. It's been some time, how about a cup of coffee? I remember you used to frequent the café back at Griffin."
"Hmm, yeah, back then, with the Commander, we would..." Being reminded of the past only worsened my mood.

"I remember that WA2000 loves the taste of chocolate. It's a pity business hasn't been great lately, so I didn't prepare any today. If WA2000’s still around in this satellite city tomorrow, maybe you could come by again? I'll bake some chocolate muffins for you."
Springfield's smile was very gentle, filled with joy from the reunion, but it made me even more upset—her café's current predicament was in part my doing.
"Springfield... your place..."
Before I could finish, a notification was heard from Springfield's terminal.

"Sorry, I'm a bit busy here. How about you take a seat first?"
"No problem, you can go make your call. I'll wait for you here." After saying that, I walked over to a small table next to the counter and sat down.
She nodded at me and quickly walked to another room to make her call.
I could hear some words that spilled out of the room, with "insufficient funds", "accommodations", and "temporary closure" coming up frequently.
Am I the reason the café has fallen into such a state...?
A sense of guilt subtly crept in. Should I be held responsible? But since Springfield never asked me for help, how could I ever offer my hand in aid first? But, still, it was my fault the café ended up like this. What should I do...

I didn't have to wait long before Springfield came out with a steaming cup of coffee. Springfield handed it to me. I took the coffee and set it on the table.
"Why a cup of coffee all of a sudden? I didn't order anything."
"Compensation. For keeping you waiting. It's on me."
"...Alright, thanks. Uh—are you short on money here?"
"So, you heard everything."
"Doesn't take a genius to see you're obviously short on money. The hole in the floor-to-ceiling glass pane is still letting in gusts of wind."
Springfield looked around and gave me a bitter smile.

"Hmm... we are indeed in dire need of funds right now. Ever since a customer got shot here, people have been coming over to investigate. It was only yesterday that they finally confirmed that it was merely a coincidence. I heard that the culprit was a highly skilled marksman..."
At this point, Springfield let out a slight sigh: "According to the police's description, that sniper's marksmanship might be as good as yours, WA2000..."
Hmm? Was Springfield suspecting me?
No, that's impossible, I couldn't have left any traces. Anyway, I just needed to make her think it's nothing but her wild guesses!
"News of a customer getting shot here was broadcasted so many times these days! This has nothing to do with me! I only came here to see how good that shooter really was."
Springfield's gentle gaze swept over my face, and she didn't bring up the gunman anymore, instead continuing our previous topic.

"Luckily, the ambulance arrived in time, and the customer was saved after emergency treatment at the hospital. He's now in the ICU and might need to stay there for few more weeks."
Hmph, just as I thought.
"But with something like that happening in the café, the regulars are still wary... I'm planning to close down for a while and renovate the place. Maybe after some time, people will forget about it, and business can go back to normal."
Springfield talked about it in a normal tone, but with every word she said, I felt my face getting hotter. I couldn't keep listening, so I spontaneously interrupted her again.
"I get it, you're short on money. Send me your account details."

I thought Springfield would refuse at first, and if she did, I was just going to exchange my credits for some Sardis Gold and leave it right at the café door. But to my surprise, Springfield sent me the account info right away.
She was so decisive, almost as if she had been waiting for this moment... it was a particularly strange reaction. Based on my recollections, Springfield was never the kind of Doll who would be troubled by something like this.
Or perhaps, after Griffin restructured, everyone else has been struggling?
Whatever the reason, the money I saved up with so much effort is gone again... Seriously, it's all that stupid Commander's fault again!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: N/A
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: W2000
Mission ID: TASK-2846
Time: Day ██
Status: In Progress

"Find the client's lost cat within three days?! What kind of commissions are these, Springfield?"
I frown as I look at the commission Springfield just sent me. I'm at a loss for words.
"We were both Tactical Dolls from Griffin, so couldn't you at the very least accept some proper missions?"

Merely a month ago, I would never have expected things to turn out like this. Just after transferring my savings to Springfield to "make up" for the guilt I felt and as I was preparing to move to the next satellite city to start over, I received a message from her.
According to Springfield, the café still needed to earn more funds for repair, so she took on some commissions through her connections. But she couldn't handle all of them by herself, so she hoped to pass some of them to me. Of course, she would also share part of the reward with me.
But what they paid was nowhere near enough. It wasn't that she didn't charge at a high rate, but the jobs themselves weren't the sort that would entail such expense; all trivial matters, jobs that would take a lot of effort but yielded little returns.
I initially wanted to refuse, especially given that I had already compensated her. But when I saw Springfield's troubled expression, my speech module seemed to fail, and I could only nod stiffly.
Oh well, I still need to save money anyway, so I might as well help out... Had it not been for my prior commission that disrupted the café's normal operation, Springfield wouldn't have needed to pick up her old PMC jobs.
So, I started escorting deliveries, investigating gang thief hideouts, tracking down kids in premature relationships, catching cats, walking dogs, taking out the trash—it's getting more and more ridiculous, right?!

"Is this café a money pit or what? Why does it need so much money for repairs?" In the face of my doubts, Springfield looks at me begrudgingly. She sets a cup of steaming macchiato in front of me.
"Because of the previous shoot-out... The public security department is drafting new security measures for businesses. I figured it's better to get it all done now rather than closing down for renovations again later."
"This is ridiculous. If they're worried about another shoot-out, they should beef up their own security measures. Why force businesses to install bulletproof glass? Springfield, are you sure this information is accurate and it’s not just the material suppliers trying to scam money out of you?"
Relying on a single source of information is a little concerning. I'll look into this another day.
"Shouldn't be... This info came from an intelligence broker I know. She's reliable."

Intelligence brokers... Reminds me of my "original aspiration" again.
To be honest, it's not like I've been broke all these years, but satellite cities are far from the contamination zones. Those who can get their hand on bounty hunter intel are few and far between, and the accuracy of said intel is even worse.
I can't possibly count how many times the intel I bought pointed to the wrong target, leading to my savings being drained time and time again.

"Springfield, is this intelligence broker you know familiar with the contamination zone?"
"Contamination zone... she never mentioned it much. What would you like to know? I can ask her for you."
I pause for a moment, as I've remembered that person's sudden departure.
This feeling is very peculiar for a Doll.
From the moment I first received that piece of false news—although all my modules reported no anomalies, I felt like everything had malfunctioned. I'll never forget the shriek that sounded in my neural cloud that day.
As a Doll, it was the first time I'd ever felt a sense of waning, one that maybe only humans experience. The kind of wane that one’s life and spirit are doomed to eventually; while yet to happen, but almost a certainty. But this was also matched by my anger when I learned the real news.
I don't care what others think, but even if I have to dig six feet into the ground, I'm going to drag that bastard out of the dirt!
It's just... I'm not in a rush, so I don't need to bother Springfield... Right.
"N-Nothing, I was just asking out of curiosity."
To conceal my inner panic, I take sip of the coffee in front of me.

"Springfield, have you put enough sugar in this macchiato?"
"Huh?"

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Location: Zucchero Café, District K7, Satellite City CHE-02
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: W2000
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

After completing a variety of tasks for Springfield, the bulletproof glass of the café was finally installed, meaning the café would reopen very soon.
Springfield was bustling behind the counter. The familiar scent of coffee was wafting over, indicating that she was preparing another macchiato for me.
I observed her adding one sugar cube after another into the coffee cup——

"It's fortunate that your taste module isn't malfunctioning, you just simply prefer things to be much sweeter." Springfield placed the coffee before me with a practiced move.
"No way! How could Dolls possibly like sweet flavors? There must be an undetected malfunction!"
"Alright, alright, we'll have it inspected some other day." Springfield remained understanding and gentle, but now, as I looked at her smile, I was unable to respond further, because——

Springfield had deceived me.

This started last week. My "debt" to Springfield was almost paid off. Out of concern... no, more like because I didn't want to get caught up again, I looked into what Springfield said about the security management department plans that required businesses to boost their security measures.
Turns out, it was all just a rumor. I thought Springfield had fallen for a scam, so I stormed over to the bulletproof glass supplier to demand an explanation. But what happened next had been totally unexpected—

"Don't try to slander me! It was clearly your boss herself who came here to place the order. She didn't want the stock and insisted on going through the reservation process, saying something about not having enough funds. We don’t just supply CHE-02, so why would we scam your little café?!" The supplier's confident attitude made me hesitate a bit.
"Besides, look around at the other shops. If this was a marketing ploy, then the whole street would be fooled, right? Nobody else installed it. Hey... you aren't trying to extort us, are you?!"
"Who's extorting who?!"
Leaving the hopping mad supplier behind, I walked out of the glass factory.
If it wasn't the supplier... could it be the intelligence broker that was working with Springfield? But it'd be strange to only scam Springfield, and the supplier—who would have benefited in the end—seemed completely unaware...
After reflecting upon Springfield's previous strange behaviors that contradicted my impressions of her, I finally came to a realization.
Springfield was intentionally showing weakness. She was delaying for something, or perhaps, was trying to make me stay in CHE-02 for some reason?
But no matter what, staying here was impossible. While I did find out that having someone to assist was quite helpful during our period of collaboration, the quality of the assignments was most assuredly poor. It was, however, a stable source of income, and the information provided regarding missions was more than abundant... Nevertheless, I still had someone to find. I couldn't stay here, and I most certainly didn't appreciate being played for a fool.

"WA2000? What are you thinking about?"
"I... The café’s been fully refurbished at this point. I've got to go." I squashed down the doubts in my heart. Since Springfield hadn't changed at all, it would be difficult to pry out what she was trying to hide, even if I pressed her further. Moreover, this wasn't important to me.
"But the original waiter has already found another job. WA2000, could you..."

Why is Springfield putting on that deliberately weak expression again? What is she trying to do?
"Springfield, I'm not needed here."
"How could that be? Recently—"
"I'm not needed here. I know that." I repeated, and the smile on Springfield's face froze for a moment.
"...No wonder you've been a bit distant lately." Springfield sat down across from me, lightly clasping her hands and placing them on the table—I knew this was a gesture of honesty.
I sighed helplessly, leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms:
"How come?"

"I saw you the other day. It was you who fired that shot, wasn’t it?"
Springfield hit the nail on the head, and I instantly lost the moral high ground I had just claimed.
"Then why didn't you just tell the authorities..."
"After everyone left Griffin, we all had our own jobs. It's normal for WA2000, as a sniper, to take on such a commission. It's been tough for everyone. The impact of said shooting is still within what I can handle, so there was no need to pursue it... At least, that's what I thought. But a few days later, I noticed you were still hanging around the area, looking like you wanted to make it up to me."
"Even if you found out that I wanted to help, you can't just take my savings and boss me around. Isn't that just taking advantage of me?"
"Because things have changed."
Springfield said, transmitting a file to me.
On the first page of the file, there was a very prominent photo of my target.

"You investigated my mission target?"
"No, it was just a side job... Do you remember the intelligence broker I mentioned to you? A few days ago, I caught word from her that there was a leak in your commission, and the target is trying to track you."
"You mean... you got a job to track me?"
Springfield nodded silently.
"It's not just dust lurking in the corners of this satellite city. There are others looking for you, and not just me."
"So the reason you asked me to stay here... is to protect me?"
Springfield's train of thought held merit. After a shooting like this, most attackers would usually choose to leave the scene quickly. My frequent appearances actually helped reduce suspicion.

"I needed time to completely erase the traces. I was worried that, if I were to tell you directly, you would decide to bear it alone... So, I had to come up with another way. Sorry."
"A-Apologizing to me like this, what do you expect me to say?!"
Sure enough, she’s still the same Springfield. Of that I’m certain... and feel a little angry about.

"Now that it's all out in the open, it's been long enough. With your skills, they definitely can’t trace it back to me. So, can I leave now? You don't even have to pay me back, so let's just call it even."
"WA2000..."
"W-What? I won't be fooled by you again!"
"After working together for all this time, I truly hope you can stay as my partner. As you can see, this place is more than just a café." Springfield looked at the brand-new window, eyes filled with excitement, as if this little café was a quietly buried seed.

"But I have my own things to do."
"Are you looking for the Commander?" Although it was phrased as a question, Springfield's tone was undeniably certain.
"No, I'm not."
"Really? But you're blushing. Every time you blush, it means the truth is the opposite of what you said."
"Springfield!"
"I know you've been searching, but it's been fruitless. You can't tell the difference between false information and just straight bad intel. Don't be mad, I just want to say this is normal... It's been the norm after we lost the Griffin platform. Information isn't secure anymore, and neither are our identities. Through the intel network, I occasionally get news about some Dolls. They might have been deceived by shady clients or lost their qualifications to work in the satellite cities. Some of them have simply disappeared..."
Springfield’s usual smile faded from her face.

"You and I are the lucky ones, WA2000."

"I don't know what you're trying to say, but I have to find them... I need an explanation."
"I'll help you."
"Do you know where they are? Can you contact them?" Almost instantly, I stood up and closed the distance between me and Springfield.
"Not yet."
...What was I expecting? Ever since I learned about that agreement, that person has been like a phantom. Every time I thought I was about to catch them, they slipped away.
"Don't be so down. We can find the Commander. We just need more 'contacts.' Even though our physical bodies are separated, information has no such limitation."
Springfield's attitude was very firm.
"CHE-02 is just the beginning." Following her gaze, I seemed to see that seed, gradually sprouting and becoming an endless root system, passing through the quarantine wall and spreading across the earth.
"And that yearning... won't..." Springfield withdrew her gaze and turned to look at me.
"Instead of being misled by false information, why not stay here and help me? You don't have to be an employee of the café, and you don't have to show up here every day. We can work together in a more flexible way—"

"I'll provide the channels and hand over some of the commissions the café receives to you. We can discuss the reward distribution in detail. This way, my intelligence network will also become WA2000's, and we'll always be able to find news about the Commander. Plus, we can take care of some old friends who need help on behalf of the Commander."
With that, Springfield extended her hand to me.
"Seriously, you're just as annoying as them..." I muttered, shaking Springfield's hand, "But let me be clear, I'll only help you until the day we find them."
"Hehe, it looks like Zucchero Café finally has a strong partner."
"Zucchero? Wasn’t it Cloud?"
"Since we've renovated the store, why not give it a new name? That way, customers will feel a newly refreshing atmosphere. What about you, WA2000? Do you want a new name too?"
"Is that really necessary?"
"Maybe it will invoke a different reaction from the Commander?"
"W-Who cares what they’d think!"

I turned my head away, blushing. Springfield simply kept quietly staring at me, as if she knew this conversation wasn't over yet.
The coffee in front of me was still steaming hot, and the sweet aroma wafted into my nose.
"Changing my code name... It's not impossible... After all, it's for the sake of improved secrecy..."
My voice grew quieter and quieter, until I fell completely silent.

"Why don't you give me some suggestions, instead of just sitting there and laughing!"
"Hmm... What should we call you~" Springfield’s expression turned dramatic and troubled. Damn, she’s teasing me again!
I looked around anxiously until finally, my gaze settled on the coffee in front of me.
"...J-Just call me Makiatto!"
"Macchiato? Like the name of this coffee? Isn't choosing a name like that far too frivolous?"
"N-No, it's not! It's Ma-ki-at-to—"
"Well, it's a sweet-sounding name. The Commander will definitely like it."
"...Whether they like it or not has nothing to do with me! I don't care!"

So, I changed my code name to Makiatto, became a partner of the Zucchero Café, and started searching for that person together with Springfield.
If a name can really grant new meaning... I hope that my reunion with that idiot will have a completely different ending from before.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Growing-Up Emergency Manual

Summary

This story is linked to #Graffiti Variation.

In the chaotic Griffin & Kryuger after the Commander disappeared, ^AR Type 95Type 95Type 95 is taking out her anxiousness by nagging ^AR Type 97Type 97Type 97 about her future. 97 herself wants to find her independence from her sister. 97 suggests that, since both of their ultimate goals are to find the Commander, but that 97 isn't interested in restarting her previous career, she will remain at Griffin while 95 can restart her music career as a wandering performer and possibly meet the Commander by chance. The sisters unearth 95's old guzheng from G&K's warehouse and she's finally convinced to leave Griffin. Before leaving, she gives 97 a 300-pages long Emergency Manual as guidance for any possible life situation.

97's newfound freedom proves to be less of a boon as she expected when she starts making a lot more mistakes during her missions. After butting heads with her partner ^HG CZ75CZ75CZ75, she's transferred to the team of the increasingly workaholic ^AR QBZ-191QBZ-191QBZ-191, where she becomes mocked as being in a “rebellious phase” for being picky with her assignments. 97's isolation only grows as events unfold: she keeps ignoring 95's messages and calls, CZ75 leaves Griffin, abd 97 is placed as an auxiliary member in the Frosfall Squad newly formed by Qiongjiu and Lind, who recently changed their names. After secretly accepting alone a mission meant for several people, 97 has to be rescued by Frostfall and bitterly realizes that by ignoring the advice of the Emergency Manual, she mistook independence for selfishness.

While under disciplinary confinement, 97 finally reads through 95's messages and listens to the song she composed herself under her old name, Daiyan. Realizing that she failed to mature while her sister was making progress on her own journey, 97 admits that she still needs 95's guidance and decides to leave Griffin to find her sister again.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 97
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"Sis, please stop nagging. I know I was wrong..."
I stood by the wall with my hands behind my back, listening to my sister's nagging for a full 23 minutes and 47 seconds like I was being punished.
"97, Griffin's disbandment and reorganization is no small matter. It's a very important decision. I hope you can..."
"You hope I can take this seriously and carefully think about my future?" I picked up where my sister left off without missing a beat, "Sis, I can recite all your lines by heart."
"Have you been thinking about it?"
"Thinking—yes! Of course! But sometimes you just have to take a break and let it sit for a bit first before making a big decision!"

Since the news of Griffin's disbandment and reorganization came, my sister has been pestering me about my future plans and career path. I finally found a place to hide and take a couple of days off, but she found me.
Oh, if only the Commander were here, I would have sought refuge with them...

With the Commander gone, the days at Griffin started to drag on.
My sister was down for a while, and to keep herself from sinking into depression, she started pushing me to think about my future.
The future...
Helian mentioned something about an agreement before... We're not allowed to actively seek out the Commander...
So what should I do?
By the way, is my sister planning to leave Griffin?

"That won't work. Think about it. If you accept the reassignment, you need to plan ahead and think it through—"
"Then I'll stay at Griffin?" I interrupted my sister.
"97, are you seriously considering this? Don't just do it on a whim—"
"Of course it's not on a whim! Sis, think about it. Besides wanting to see the Commander again, I don't have any other immediate plans. Isn't it best to stay at Griffin where I’m familiar with everyone? Maybe there will be news about the Commander... Oh, Sis! Aren't you always worried about the Commander? Why don't you go out there and travel around? Since you can't actively look for the Commander, maybe you'll 'run into them by chance'! And, if I get any intel about the Commander here, I'll let you know!"
"I’ve been thinking about it... But did I tell you?"
"Oh, Sis, your thoughts are written all over your face!"
My sister covered her face.

"Besides, Sis, didn't you say you wanted to be a musician? This is a great chance to travel and get some inspiration! Oh, by the way, where's your guzheng? Is it in the warehouse? Come on, let's go find it!"
"W-Wait a second..."
"Sis, you don't have be coy with me. Let's go get the guzheng now! We need to leave soon! We can’t keep the boss waiting!"
I grabbed my sister's hand and pulled her firmly towards the storage room, ignoring her bashfulness.

This warehouse... How long has it been since it was last organized? We searched for ages before we finally found the box with the guzheng buried deep inside.
"Sis, how long has it been since you played the guzheng? There's so much dust on the box."
"It's been a while. I've got too many things going on... It hasn't been maintained properly; I hope it still works."
"Then hurry up and try it!"
I eagerly tore off the tape on the box, and thick dust flew up with my movements. In an instant, my sister and I were surrounded by a cloud of dust.
"Uh, cough cough... my bad..."
I awkwardly waved my sleeve, trying to clear the air. Big Sis sighed, and skillfully pulled out a spray bottle from somewhere, avoiding the guzheng and spraying at the dust.
"97, you never change your reckless ways... From the time you first came to Griffin until now, it's always been the same... Whether it's going on a mission or submitting a report, I have to keep a close eye on you, or there will be a ton of issues..."
"Ahhh! Got it, got it, Sis! Just open the case and take a look!"

The case opened, and my sister fell silent for a moment as she gently caressed the instrument.
"Alright, since you don't want to listen, I won't say anything. 97, I'll ask you one last time—do you want to leave Griffin with me?" My sister looked very serious.
"I..."
"You used to play the guzheng as well, but then you switched to being a martial arts actor... Even if we remain together, we could still be doing different things, don't you think?"
"Different things..." I considered the suggestion, but in the end, I still decided to turn it down, "Sis, that's just two examples. You've found a lot of alternative careers for me before, but I shot them all down, right? I may not know what I really want to do, but I do know that I want to stay at Griffin for now."
"But if that's the case, we'll be separated..."
My sister's smile was a bit forced. I know my sis pretty well, I am sure she'll compromise and say something like, "Why don't I stay too?"
97, think of something quickly! Think of a reason to convince her not to change her mind! My neural cloud kicked into high gear, searching desperately for the best way to persuade my sister in this situation.

"Whether it's playing the guzheng or practicing martial arts, those were ultimately YOUR ideas, Sis! What I want is to become an awesome T-Doll!"
It worked! Sis was stunned!
"Sis, we just have different aspirations! You want to be a performer and find a chance to 'bump into' the Commander, so you should go out there and explore. As for me... I'll stay at Griffin, where I can do more! We can't let our different aspirations hold each other back, or neither of us will achieve our goals!"
Sis even stopped smiling!
Oh, maybe I went too far...

"...97... Yeah, that's right... I should be happy for you! If you stay with Griffin, I'll feel more at ease... Yeah, I can even ask Helian to look out for you a bit..."
"Exactly!" Hooray! My sister agreed with it! "Let's go submit our applications now!"
"So soon? Maybe you should still think it over..."
"Oh, come on! What is there to think about? Let's go!"
I grabbed my sister, who was hesitating again, and pushed her towards Helian's office.

I thought that was the end of it, but a few days later, I received a document over 300 pages long.

"What's this... 'Emergency Manual'? Living Alone? Shopping? Cleaning? Executing Missions? And there's so much more after this?"
"We're going to be apart for a while, so I wrote down all the advice I have for you. I hope it helps my most important little sister, 97."
"So that's why you've been ignoring me these past two days... But Sis, I'm not a kid anymore. You don't need to worry so much."
"Alright, alright, my dear 97 is all grown up." Sis gently patted my head as always, "I'll be setting off tomorrow, but I haven't figured out where I want to go yet..."
Big Sis looked a bit morose. She must be thinking about the Commander again.
Ever since the Commander left Griffin, we haven't heard anything about the Elmo. Everyone's been worried and sad, especially my sentimental sister...
But she quickly pulled herself together: "Well, anyway, we're going to be apart... But no matter when, you're always welcome to come find me."

The next day, my Big Sis left.
I stood behind her, watching her go.
...It felt a bit weird.
I rarely saw my sister's back. Usually, whenever I turn around, she's right there behind me, smiling. I can't imagine being without her.
With some wishful thinking, I turned and took a few steps—one, two, three—then I looked back!
—But my sister was already nowhere to be seen.
As she should be. What was I thinking...

First the Commander, then Kalina, and now my sister. This is what it feels like to be separated from those you cherish...
Well, as the saying goes, people have their ups and downs, and Helian also said that we part now so that we can meet again in the future!
I pat my cheeks to shake off this feeling of "loss".

It's time to think about what I should do next.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 97
Mission ID: ████
Time: Day ██
Status: Completed

Beep, beep, beep——
Big Sis' avatar appeared on the comm terminal right on time. I reluctantly picked it up.

"Sis, how many times have I told you... What you're doing is remote control..."
"Oh, I guess my beloved 97 doesn't miss her sister? But I miss you so much."
"I do miss you, but we don't need to communicate every week... Otherwise, it's no different from when you were still at Griffin."
"Alright, I'll try to reduce the frequency of communication. How have you been lately? Have you been completing your tasks properly?"
"Of course! These tasks are a piece of cake."

But no, in fact, things are actually going terribly for me right now. I messed up most of the tasks handed to me recently...
And I've just messed up another one just now.

"My sister really is the best. But don't get complacent, okay? Did you read the email I sent you? I added supplementary notes to the Emergency Manual based on my recent experiences in the Green Zone."
"Uh... Right, right! Of course I read it! Ah—Helian is looking for me, gotta go! Love ya, Big Sis!"
I squeezed out some excuses out of guilt and hung up the call early.

After leaving the messaging app, I clicked into my inbox and stared at the new email from my sister for a while.
Should I open it? Do I need to? Nah... It's probably the same thing as before... Wait, maybe I should take a look. It would be awkward if she asks about it later and I have no idea what she’s talking about.
I opened the document and quickly skimmed through two pages. As expected, it was the same old stuff she always nagged about... Sigh... She's not even here anymore, why is she still so worried about me?
So, I dragged the new email to the folder named ’Nagging Big Sis’ and set her contact to automatically go into that folder... Finally, I set it to ’No notifications for new emails’.
Sorry, Big Sis, I'll read your emails carefully when I have time!

Actually, after she left, I had a pretty laid-back life for a while.
During that time, Griffin didn't get many missions, and most of what we got was stuff like transporting goods and doing maintenance, which I handled really well!
Big Sis' worries were totally unnecessary, and I never even needed to consult her "Emergency Manual".
Hehe, if you ask me, Helian should've given me some tougher missions, so by the next time I update her, she'd be really impressed!

Soon after, Griffin's missions started to increase. I complained to Helian that I didn't want to do menial work, and I finally got assigned to some decent missions.
Those missions were good, except for the fact that I couldn't handle them.

It's not my fault! It's... my teammates that are at fault, yeah, that's it! It's all because CZ75 kept arguing with me and distracting me!
Yeah, that's the reason! That's why we fumbled that last mission!

Flashback over. I held the apology paper in my hand and shuffled step by step toward Helian's office.
...My thought was that, since I did mess up at the end of the day, I might as well write an apology...
However, I think I heard CZ75 say she didn't want to team up with me anymore after the mission failed?
Hmph, I'll find a new, more suitable teammate!

"And finally... one last question, QBZ-191," Helian's voice came from the office, "I want to talk to you about Type 97."
What? Are they talking about me?
I pulled back my hand that was about to knock on the door and quietly turned up the sensitivity of my hearing module.
Ah... I know eavesdropping isn't great, but since they're talking about me, it's surely okay to listen, right?

"Did you read the mission report on that failed rescue mission three days ago?"
"Yeah, I did. After all, it's the first unsuccessful moderate difficulty mission since Griffin was restructured."
"What's your take on it?"
"Are you referring to the performance of CZ75 and Type 97?"
"Yeah."
"Both of them made mistakes. But based on past data, I believe... Type 95's departure directly caused Type 97's mission success rate to plummet."
"...I think so too."
"You need my assistance?"
"You guessed it..." Helian seemed to have taken a sip of water, "Type 97 needs some time to adjust. During this period, I hope you can help her."

"I refuse!"
I pushed open the office door. In front of me was Helian holding a cup, and QBZ-191 with her hand already on her gun.
"It was an accident this time! It's all CZ75's fault! It'll be all right once I get a new teammate!"
I stuffed the crumpled apology into Helian's hand and stared directly at her.
"97, eavesdropping on others’ conversations isn't nice..." Helian pinched her brow, "Since you’ve heard, I'll just be straight with you. From today on, you'll team up with QBZ-191 and follow her lead."
"No way! I just need a suitable teammate! Not someone to boss me around!"
I puffed up my cheeks in frustration and crossed my arms to show my dissatisfaction.

"I can be your teammate too, why not give it a try?"
QBZ-191 smiled and reached her hand out to me.
Hmph! Can't you see I'm refusing?

"I-I—Fine, let's give it a shot."
Ugh... Why did I reach out to her too?

QBZ-191...
I've heard some things about her lately. It feels like she's changed a bit.
Though, if I team up with her, does that mean my laid-back days are over?

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 97
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

In the lounge, the triangle area formed between the sofa backrests is my "secret base."
Two weeks ago, I left a few pillows here, creating a perfect spot to slack off!
Recently, I've been coming to this spot quite often.
I opened the terminal, idly flipping through messages, before clicking on the compressed file QBZ-191 sent me.
She sent it after I reluctantly agreed to team up with her. Name of the file was "You will need this" and a note... a guide to getting stronger?
What could this be?
Forget it, this file is too big. I'll let it decompress in the background.

QBZ-191, my new teammate and new team leader.
She is... absolutely terrifying! A workaholic! Afflicted with OCD! Whether we're training or on a mission, she demands we dress perfectly! We have to report everything we do! The schedule has to be accurate to the minute! Maybe even to the second!
She's gotta have changed, she wasn't like this before!
After receiving the next day's training schedule at exactly midnight for the 15th time, I knew I couldn't get along with her.

But that doesn't bother me!
As long as I ignore her strict demands, there's nothing she can do about it!

After a while, QBZ-191 stopped coming after me. Even if I was late, my clothes were wrinkled, or if I procrastinated on completing my training, she stopped asking questions.
In fact, as of today, I haven't received any work assignments for a week... Well... That's nice, having some free time. And I'm not feeling guilty at all... No way...
...

I'm Griffin's elite Doll, after all, it's my duty to keep an eye on my colleagues' progress!
I opened the console, and in the group with 3 members, QBZ-191 was arranging missions.
Watching her and AA-12 chat back and forth, I felt a bit itchy, so I quietly clicked on QBZ-191's avatar and sent her a message.
"Ahem, Leader QBZ-191, why haven't you assigned me any tasks recently?"
"...So, is your rebellious phase finally over?"
"What rebellious phase? ...Anyway, I've been pretty bored lately, so it's nice to do something once in a while. Besides, you were talking to AA-12 about work for so long, you didn't even notice me."
"What do you want to do? I'll check the mission library."
"Hehe, you're the best, Leader! I'll do whatever you assign me."
"...There's a mission to escort a key witness. Want to take it?"
"In the White Zone? That's too much hassle."
"How about this mission to assist with site security? It's in the satellite city."
"That's way too easy. It's a waste of my skills~"
"..."
"Hmm... Aren't there any more challenging and interesting missions? There must be some, right?"

She remained silent for a moment, then sent a voice message lasting several dozen seconds.
Huh? A voice message? Let's listen.
—My auditory module was instantly filled with AA-12's irritable voice.
"Type 97, you think you're shopping for parts at a hardware store or what? How dare you be all picky like this? Come lend a hand if you're really that bored! If you keep whining, I'll... Mmph, QBZ-191, don't cover my mouth... Today I will... Mmph! Mmph!"
How irate. I stuck out my tongue and exited the app.
Kind of weird for these two who can clearly talk to each other directly to still chat in the group... Must be 191's OCD acting up again; if there's no text record, she feels uncomfortable.

Since there isn't a suitable mission, what should I do next?
Oh! Right, the files I was decompressing in the background should be done by now, right?
Why are there hundreds of files? Epic... Rogue... Legend... What the blazes are these?
What kind of content does QBZ-191 consume?
As I kept watching, my eyelids started getting heavy, and before I knew it, I was in hibernation mode...

...
Hmm... Was someone talking?
Yawn——! I stretched out lazily and poked my head out from the gap.
There were a few more people in the lounge now, all new staff members of Griffin.
"CZ75 is leaving, you know? Today’s the last time I'll help with her adjustments."
"Huh? Why? Is it because of that failed rescue mission?"
"I'm not sure, but I was just tasked with changing her affiliation."

W-What? CZ75... is leaving Griffin?
And they said it was because of that previous mission?
No way, that can't be true!
CZ75's annoying face popped into my mind. Is she... leaving because of me?
No way... I'm the one who got scolded by her!

The staff started eating and chatting about other things.
I squeezed myself back into my secret base and curled up into a ball, feeling upset.
At some point, I opened the terminal in my hand, my finger hovering over the contact called 'Nagging Big Sis'.
The number of emails here has increased again.

Maybe... I should reach out to Big Sis...

Wait——
Don't I want to be an independent elite Doll?
If I go to Big Sis for consolation now, I'll be laughed at!
Hmm... I know! I'll find a chance to take on a big mission for Griffin, so everyone will see me in a new light!

"Beep beep—beep beep—"
My terminal suddenly rang, and Big Sis' avatar popped up in the center of the screen.
I-I didn't just call her by accident, right?
I caught a glimpse of the time on the upper left corner of the terminal. Oh no! It's Big Sis' routine check-in time!
I frantically hung up the call, but it seemed like... everything suddenly got quiet?
I coughed awkwardly, stood up, then turned around to look at the stunned staff, pretending that I had just woken up.
"Heyo, what’s up...! Good evening...?"

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 97
Mission ID: ████
Time: Day ██
Status: In Progress

Recently, I acted more obediently in order to secure an opportunity to undertake a significant mission.
QBZ... No, she changed her name and is called Qiongjiu now. Her whole demeanor changed noticeably since the name change, and I wasn't brave enough to brush her off like I used to.
She had been busy preparing for a new team recently. What's the team called... 'Frostfall'?
Qiongjiu didn't really have time for me, and that AA-12 who was teamed up with her—that's not right, I think her name was Lind now?
Hmm, come to think of it, it seemed like everyone was changing their names. Was this some kind of trend?

Anyway, Lind joined the Frostfall Squad, as expected.
Whatever, a Doll with an irascible personality like Lind's was fated to never get along with me, so there's even less of a way I could join them!
Therefore, Team Leader Qiongjiu gave me a spot as an auxiliary member and said she'd call me if she needed anything.

...But seriously, getting called for a weekly meeting... really?
After finally getting through the weekly meeting, Qiongjiu had to rush to her next meeting, so she asked me to take the client's information to the reception room.

This was my first time in the Frostfall Squad's reception room. Qiongjiu usually handled the team's affairs here.
Wow, this room’s so neat it's scary.
I piled the documents on the desk, and now the desk was the messiest spot in the whole room... Ah, they're going to fall!

In my panic, the hand that was trying to straighten the documents accidentally touched the terminal on the desk, and the screen lit up.
...A list of missions?
Leader Qiongjiu didn't lock it?
I didn't expect the Leader to be careless sometimes, hehe... Let me see what good missions are available!
Hopefully there would some highly rated, challenging, and super awesome big missions...

I scrolled up and down the screen, and I eventually found a mission at the very bottom that looked simple but had been marked as high difficulty; it said it needed 2-3 people to complete.
The mission was to deliver a pair of glass cups.
It's... that simple? Really?

I looked back and forth for a long time, puzzled, but I really couldn't find any other clues.
Alright, this was it!
Once I finished it, my sister and everyone else would definitely see me in a new light.
I secretly wrote my name as the mission executor and left the reception room.

The next day, I behaved myself and attended the training nervously. I also did the same on the third and fourth days.
On the fifth day, Qiongjiu called me over after training.
"97, you've been working hard lately. Is your rebellious phase really over?"
"How could you say that, Leader?! However, I gave it some thought, and staying idle isn't a solution. I want to prove to you that I can complete missions that usually take several people all by myself!"
I hope the team leader catches my hint. I'm determined to get this mission!
"...One’s personal capabilities are important, but you shouldn't underestimate the power of a team."
"I know, I know!" How come you sounded just like my big sis just then?
"97, Helian wants me to help you get used to the current work pace, so... it's time for you to take on some missions."
"Sure, sure!"
"With this much confidence, then maybe I'll look forward to your results."
Since Team Leader Qiongjiu is letting me complete the missions and is even saying she'll be looking forward to it, does that mean... she approves?
I excitedly grab the Leader's hand. "Team Leader! I'll do my best!"

I managed to get a jeep on the day of the mission. Onwards toward the destination!
It's an underground channel in the contamination zone where an underground broker is located. Apparently, that's where the savvy underground broker wants to transfer the goods.
"Griffin only sent you?"
To hide their identity, the underground broker only had their eyes showing, with the rest of his body being covered by a rough cloak.
"That's none of your business. I'm an elite Doll from Griffin."
I stood up straighter, gripped the gun on my back, and tried to look more reliable.
He looked me up and down, confirmed my code, and solemnly handed me a suitcase.
"Even though there are a lot of cushioning materials inside, you must be careful when transporting it. Many people have their eyes on it, so you need to deliver it to the designated location safely. You won't be able to afford it if it gets damaged or lost."
"Don't you worry!"

I carefully placed the box on the passenger seat and fastened the seat belt.
What's so precious about this pair of cups? I don't get it.
Whatever, as long as I got it safely to the auction house at KYI-04.

I had barely driven a few kilometers before I ran into trouble.
The people the underground broker mentioned who were ’watching it’ included the Varjagers?!
Hmph, these guys with their shoddy makeshift guns think they can stop me? My excellent driving and shooting skills are no joke!

I quickly dealt with the Varjagers. After driving for a few hours, I arrived at the Great Wall Railway, and I entered the Green Zone after a series of tedious procedures.
Alright, not so far now, let’s keep going! The mission is almost complete!

Even though this place wasn't far from the satellite city where Griffin was, it's still my first time here... Better download the map and start the navigation!
Hmm... this route was the shortest, so let's go with that!
The satellite city was really deserted during the day, but why did it feel like I'm driving further and further away. Was I getting lost?
Whoa...!
A bullet hit the car window, and I slammed on the brakes.
Why were they here again? Varjagers—no way, right? This was a Green Zone!
I took a moment to observe the enemy as I dodged the bullets to check out their clothing and gear...
A mishmash of different styles—definitely not a professional PMC. Hmph, what kind of clueless underground gang was this?
Even though I didn't bring much ammo, it's more than enough to handle you guys!
I tried to dodge the chase and return fire when I could, but they knew the terrain so well they kept dodging my shots. Damn it!
I slammed on the gas and planned to lose them by getting out of their range.

It was shortly after I pushed my way through that I suddenly turned into a dead end?!
What's going on? There should have been a road here! Was there something wrong with the navigation map?
Huh? Why was the GPS in offline mode?
I still remembered the way I came, so I guess I had to turn around!
However, I saw a few black dots in the rearview mirror getting closer...
Stay calm, 97, stay calm.
Anyway, let's analyze the current situation first!
...
I looked around anxiously. On my left was a row of abandoned houses, and on my right was a factory. The inside looked pretty complicated. If even I thought that this place was confusing, then they... shouldn't be able to find me so easily, right?
There's a chance!

I stopped the jeep and picked up the box on the passenger seat. Next, I just needed to make it look like I escaped into the residential area, then climb over the low wall by the roadside into that factory...
Wait! A thought suddenly popped into my mind—"When danger comes, prepare for the worst and protect yourself as much as possible. At times like this, don't try to be a hero."
Where did I see that?
Let me think... Was it in the ’Emergency Manual’ my sister gave me?
Prepare for the worst...
That meant I needed to find a chance to upload my neural data and send my current location to Griffin's server. I'd be prepared for the worst that way.
If something really went wrong... No, no, no! I can't think like that!

This place looked like a candy factory with huge mixing machines and tablet presses. The winding metal conveyor belts were covered in dust, and it seemed like it had been out of use for months.
Luckily, there was some communication equipment here that I could use.
There's no signal, which was probably because of a signal jammer or something. But this was a satellite city, and my enemies don't seem to be anyone too important, so they probably didn't have any special equipment. So maybe, their jamming can be broken by trying a few different methods.

After trying several methods, I covered my tracks and left the room where the device was.
Then... I got lost.
I was so naive. Why did I think I could find my way out of here? This was the third time I'd passed by this huge statue!
And seriously, why was this statue of a fat hamster holding a candy cane?
Frustrated, I grabbed a box from the conveyor belt and threw it at the hamster's chubby cheeks. Whoa! Dozens of candy canes fell out of the hamster's mouth and hit me on the head.
So its cheeks were stuffed with candy?!
I checked the signal, and sure enough, it was still blocked.
I hoped what I did earlier worked...

I hated to admit it, but right now, I really wished someone could help me... Uh, not that I'm not independent!
It's okay, it's not that bad yet, as long as they didn't catch up.
But I heard the footsteps getting closer.
Why didn't they go to the residential area? Didn't I fool them?
Anyway, I had to hide!

I hid in a raw material storage room with the box in my arms, hiding in a pile of half-finished candy. I fiddled with the console in my hand that wasn't responding as I listened to the footsteps coming and going...
...In the past... whenever I was in danger... someone would always come to help me...
The Commander, Kalina, my sister... and not long ago, even Qiongjiu...
...What am I going to do now?
Wait, is this—the ’Emergency Manual’? Did I save it on the terminal?
Anyway, I couldn't connect to the internet now, so I might as well hide and take a look.

I adjusted my hiding spot, tilted my head, set up the terminal, and started flipping through the manual page by page.
...Sis, why did you write down all my little quirks, and... there were notes too?!
"97, you need to be extra careful here. Efficiency is important, but safety should always come first."
"97, you move quickly, which is good, but before entering an unknown area, make sure the network is clear."
"97, you have a lot of ideas, but it's hard for you to stick with them, and you give up easily... Well, maybe... I care too much about you and often solve problems for you. In the future, if you find yourself in trouble alone, try to hang in there a bit longer and things might turn around."
Sis, you're so naggy, you make me want to cry.

I lowered my head and rubbed my eyes.
I used to think my big sis was just bossing me around, but every time we went on a mission, she would undertake the investigation and inventory check in advance, and I only had to take care of myself.
The same thing happened when I teamed up with CZ75. Because I was too focused on the start and not the finish, the rescue operation had been delayed, and the person we were rescuing got hurt.
Back then... what did CZ75 say?
"Don't you remember we're a team? I can't work with a teammate who only looks out for themselves."
Now... I understand what she meant by that.

After figuring everything out, I suddenly stood up from the pile of candy, and the candy scattered all over the place with a clatter—I didn't get caught, did I?
I waited for a bit and didn't hear any other sounds. Phew, thank goodness... no one came near here just now...
Wait, candy...?
Maybe... I can use these as my 'bullets'?

The ’Emergency Manual’ recorded how to use common equipment. I hid the box first, then snuck into the factory's control room and tried to turn on the equipment according to the manual.
What the heck were these machines for? Might as well turn them all on!
For a moment, the factory was filled with the roar of machines.
"Found it! The Doll’s over there!"
Starting the machines gave away my location, but I was ready for this!
"Ah! Watch your step!"

Hehe, I poured the round candies into the blind spot at the corner of the hallway, and when they rushed over, they all got knocked down like bowling pins.
As for those who didn't fall...
Take this! It's my original syrup attack!
I took apart the pressure gun that sprayed syrup, sprayed it on the narrow iron frame of the walkway ahead of time, then raised my homemade candy gun and shot these 'sugar-coated bullets' at their knees!
"Today, I'm gonna teach you a lesson! Get into the tank!"
"What the heck is this?!"
"What's going on up ahead? Why did we stop?!"
"Ah——!"
Sure enough, these unwitting mice who lacked regular exercise fell into the mixing tank one by one, getting covered in colorful syrup.

But I didn’t just want to push them back temporarily. I wanted to escape from here with the box.
Stalling for time wouldn’t work forever; I’ll eventually run out of all the raw materials left in the factory... Sis, why doesn’t the ’Emergency Manual’ say what to do when we run out of materials!
...Oh no, I’m all out of materials, and those people who fell into the tank had climbed out!
Why were more people coming? Did they call for reinforcements?

The last bullet was fired. This time, I'm really done for...
I looked up at the big hamster. At least... the suitcase was still well hidden in its cheeks.
Even if I got caught, at least the suitcase wouldn't fall into their hands. Helian and Qiongjiu... could you help me finish this mission and upload my neural cloud into a new body because I worked so hard and fought till the bitter end?

Bang—bang, bang—
I heard several gunshots from the factory entrance, and the footsteps coming towards me started to sound frantic.
I stuck my head out the window and saw the person standing at the factory door—
"Team Leader Qiongjiu?!"

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Type 97
Mission ID: ████
Time: Day ██
Status: Completed

In Helian's office, I stared down at my toes.
Helian crossed her arms and looked at me expressionlessly, while Leader Qiongjiu seriously reported my 'glorious deeds' to her.

"97, you took on the mission without authorization, which seriously violates Griffin's rules, causing unnecessary losses."
"No, I share responsibility for this incident. I failed to notice in time that the commission we had temporarily put on hold was mistakenly accepted," Leader Qiongjiu gently placed her hand on my shoulder. "It wasn't until the client sent the deposit that I realized 97 had taken on this mission alone. That was my oversight."
I kept my head down, feeling Leader's firm grip on my shoulder. I couldn't move.
"Helian, Leader Qiongjiu, I really messed up. Do whatever you need to do, I won't complain."
"...It's good that you're reflecting on it, but it's a bit late for that."
Yeah, it truly was.
"Speaking purely from the outcome, this mission wasn't a failure, Helian."
The grip on my shoulder tightened... Is Leader telling me to stay quiet and let her handle it?

"Qiongjiu, she was picky before, and you let her do whatever she wanted. I didn't say anything then, but now her behavior has gone too far. 95 did not leave her little sister at Griffin for you to spoil."
"If she does something wrong, she should be punished, but we can't ignore her contributions either. This mission did bring Griffin some good income. Doesn't that balance things out?"
"But had we followed the standard procedures, we could have saved more costs."
"...I hope you can give her another chance. Of course, I'll also tighten up my management, Helian."

Honestly, even if Leader didn't hold me back, I wouldn't have said anything because I wasn't angry at all.
Helian was right, I shouldn't have done that. And Leader Qiongjiu...
It's always been like this... Everyone has always been... looking out for me like Leader Qiongjiu. Big Sis... The Commander...
My vision is getting a bit blurry.
...I... shouldn't be so willful and stubborn.

"I... I was wrong... Boo... hoo-hoo-hoo..."
Seeing my face suddenly covered in tears, Qiongjiu and Helian looked a bit torn. They told me to go back to the dorm first and said they'd notify me of the disciplinary action they would take by email.

Back at the dorm, I wrapped myself in a blanket and stared at the ceiling, zoning out.
A few hours later, the review report of the whole incident came in.
Turns out, that pair of cups was a way for a somewhat famous businessman to hide the location of his wealth, which is why all sorts of people were after them.
Then, my punishment came in too...
Because of my previous poor behavior and my reckless action this time, Griffin suffered extra losses when resources were already stretched thin because of the restructuring. I also delayed everyone else's mission progress.
According to Griffin's new rules, I've been put on the watch list and need to go through a three-month observation period.
...Wait, what's an observation period? Where have I seen that before...?
Didn't Leader Qiongjiu send me something about it before?

"During the observation period, the subject will stop performing missions and must attend training and education sessions on time. Also, they are not permitted to leave Griffin's premises until the observation period is over."
I read it out loud, word by word, and finally got what it meant.
—Isn't this just 'confinement'?

I was flipping through the Emergency Manual, feeling a bit confused, when I suddenly saw a note from Big Sister on one of the pages: "Mature Dolls must take responsibility for their actions." Did she predict I would get punished?
Mature Dolls...
Alright, let's do this!
I, Type 97, will accept the punishment and take responsibility for everything I've done!

The observation period was so boring. Besides training, I was just on standby. To find something to do, I started going through the emails my sister sent me.
"Yesterday, I discovered a new material that might be good for making strings for my guzheng..."
"Today, I heard a really nice song."
"I've got some new inspiration lately!"
"Still haven't found the Commander... but maybe the next place will be it."
I had no idea my sister was going through so much while I was unaware!

I went through the emails one by one until I got to the last one. This last email was different from the others. There was an... audio attachment?
I clicked play, and a melody started playing.
This song was different from the ones my sister used to play. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it just felt... more alive!
At the end of the email, the composer's name was... "Daiyan"!
I remember this name!
It was the name my sister used when she was a guzheng player before she joined Griffin.
Big Sis has been working so hard...
Look at me... what have I been doing...?

I always thought that after all these years, I could handle everything on my own and live an independent life as a "mature Doll".
But being alone is really lonely. There's no one to share happy moments with, and I have to bear the sad ones all by myself.
I've tried everything to escape my sister's control and wanted to prove myself to everyone through my achievements at Griffin. But what was the point?
At first, I just didn't want my sister to nag me anymore. I also hoped that when that lousy agreement got scrapped and I could finally see with the Commander again, I would get some praise...

Listening to the music my sister sent and reading her emails made me feel as if I were traveling with her.
Ah, why hasn't this week's regular contact time come yet? I really want to talk to Big Sis!

...
The dorm’s so quiet and empty, you can even hear the buzzing of the electricity.
I suddenly have a bold idea...

I'll go find Big Sis!
Before she left, she said, 'No matter when, you're always welcome to come to me.' That should still stand, right?
Once I had this idea, I couldn't stop thinking about it. The more I thought, the more excited I got. Every part of me seemed to be buzzing with happiness.
Yes, yes! As soon as the observation period is over, I'll go find Big Sis!
Then, I'll travel to different places with her and grow up properly!
This time, I've learned my lesson. When I see her again, I'll be a mature Type 97!
Once I find Big Sis, we'll travel together and look for the Commander. When we meet the Commander again, I'll surprise the Commander too!

Oh, and I need to apologize to Helian and Qiongjiu... I really went too far this time.

There's still a lot to do!
Wait for me, Big Sis!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Elden Succor

Summary

This story is related to Dusty Journal#Hero's Road.

At the slowly deteriorating Griffin & Kryuger after the Commander's disappearance, ^HG StechkinStechkinStechkin and ^AR OTs-12OTs-12OTs-12 are running a training mission for new recruits. The announcement of the PMC's restructuring leaves Stechkin unphazed, since she used to change jobs often, but she must now find a job where she can exploit her body modified for fighting. They receive a call for help from ^HG Nagant RevolverNagant RevolverNagant Revolver, who was surrounded by Sangvis Ferri remnants while carrying out a demolition mission again one of their factories. Stechkin decides to go and provide reinforcements alone since she owes a personal favor to Nagant, who helped her junior Steckin to repay the debt for her new tactical frame back when she joined Griffin. After the rescue, Nagant and Stechkin go through the reassignment process, and after some third-party intervention, they end up in the same team at Public Security.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kruger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services – Support Tactical Team
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Stechkin
Mission Number: █-█-█
Time: Day 2
Status: In Progress

Today marks the second day of the reconnaissance mission.
Due to the long journey, my squad hadn't yet reached the target location.

"Stechkin, don't you think this mission feels rushed? Not only do we have little intel about it, we don't have much ammo either."
That question came from OTs-12, who was driving the jeep. I glanced at her from where I was sitting in the passenger seat.
"It's just a reconnaissance mission to train the new recruits. Nothing wrong with the logistics personnel taking it easy once in a while."
"But while a slip-up or two can be excused, there have been quite a few logistics oversights recently..."
OTs-12 glanced in the rearview mirror, watched the two new recruits in the jeep behind us, and then lowered her voice: "I've had this feeling that ever since the Commander left, things at Griffin have been slowly deteriorating... You've noticed it too, haven't you?"
"The mission is about to start. There'll be problems if you let yourself get distracted."
I don't answer OTs-12's question directly, but she's right. Griffin had been unstable lately. The Commander's departure was like the first domino falling. Whether it's logistical oversights or personnel changes, everything was different from before. All the signs were pointing to something significant happening.
Perhaps a greater upheaval was imminent. What should we do then? Without the Commander, was there even a reason for us to stay at Griffin?

Beep-beep-beep... Beep-beep-beep...
The sound of the communication terminal interrupted my thoughts. It was a call from headquarters.
"This is Stechkin, go ahead. Yes, we're on our way. I understand."
The conversation was very brief. The other party hung up before I could say much more.

"New orders?" OTs-12 was curious about the recent communication.
"It's nothing much, really. Headquarters said that Griffin is officially dissolving and restructuring. The exact details of the restructuring are still to be determined, and a formal notice will be sent via email later. This mission is terminated, and we can head back."
"Oh... Wait, we're dissolving—and restructuring?"
OTs-12 looked at me, her mouth slightly open and a shocked look on her face.
"Stechkin, you're not joking, right?"
"I wouldn't joke about something like this."
I replied in the affirmative as I watched the clouds drift overhead. My neural cloud remained placid and unmoved.
In contrast to the bewildered OTs-12, I calmly stated a few words.
"As I thought, I'm unemployed again..."

Beep-beep-beep... Beep-beep-beep...

"Maybe it's HQ? Perhaps there was some mistake."
OTs-12 frantically asked me that question as the jeep went over a pothole, jolting the vehicle violently.
"Watch the road, Tiss! If we crash in the wilderness, calling a tow truck will cost a fortune!"
"I... I'm sorry! I was just concerned about what happened..."
OTs-12 kept apologizing, but I could understand her reaction.
Compared to me, a Doll who frequently changed jobs before joining Griffin, it’s natural for someone who had been with Griffin from the start to experience neural cloud fluctuations upon hearing news of its dissolution.
Also, Griffin had indeed lost its appeal for me now that the Commander was gone.
But the truth was... I had been prepared to leave for a long time now, hadn't I?

The communication terminal still persistently played the call reminder.
"Quick, check if there are any additional messages." OTs-12 held on tightly to the steering wheel while she frequently glanced at me.
"Mm-hmm." I picked up the communication terminal again, but instead of showing the headquarters' code, the screen displayed a name I recognize well.
"...Senior?"
It was somewhat surprising but also mades sense. The name "M1895" appeared on the terminal screen. Ignoring OTs-12's confusion, I pressed the receive button.

"This is M1895. We're carrying out a demolition mission at a Sangvis Ferri plant and are currently surrounded by Sangvis Ferri machines that were not mentioned in our briefing. Requesting support. I repeat, this is M1895, our coordinates are..."

The voice from the communication terminal became fuzzy, mixed with the sounds of gunfire. I quickly opened Griffin Maps on my terminal and marked down the coordinates.
"...Was that M1895, the one who always wears a hat and calls herself 'senior'?"
I nodded.
"I remember that for a period, you often teamed up with Nagant M1895. Are you two close?"
"A little. She mentored me for a while when I first joined Griffin."
"Huh, is that all? But judging by your expression, it looks pretty serious. Do you owe her a favor?"

"Do I?"
I glanced at the rearview mirror to ensure my facial muscles weren't betraying me.
Strange, how did she read that?
...That said, I did owe M1895 a favor.
"We're not too far from M1895. Should we go help her?"
OTs-12 gripped the steering wheel with one hand and used her other hand to enter the coordinates into the jeep’s navigation system. I glanced at the ETA from the corner of my eye and saw that it would take about 4 hours to reach Nagant M1895’s location.
"Although I'm not too keen on serving as unpaid labor, let's give her a hand."
"Hehe, I guess I was right."
"After all, she's a colleague from Griffin. We can't just ignore her, can we?"
Plus, it's a chance to pay my debt to her and end things on good terms.
...Just like when I left the restaurant.
Yes, just like leaving the restaurant, I'll leave Griffin, find a new direction, and look for a new job.

But, what kind of new job should I pursue?
Working at a P.M.C. was too risky; the missions were quite dangerous. But I invested a lot in my modifications, and it seemed wasteful not to continue using them... If I went to the Yellow Zone, I wondered if my body will hold up with such a dangerous environment...
It's a little hard to decide...
Or... maybe I should just find the Commander and ask him to give me a salary?
But I wonder where the Commander is now. Would Helian and Kalina know?

Speaking of which, where would M1895 choose to go?
Given her personality, even if she couldn't stay at Griffin, she would probably choose to continue working at another P.M.C, right?

"Stechkin, Stechkin?"
OTs-12's voice brought me back to reality. The jeep continued on the planned route but was now moving much more slowly.
"What should we do next? Should we head towards M1895's location?"
"No need. Take the new recruits in the other vehicle back to headquarters. I'll go alone."
"Alone? Can you manage? We should go together."
"Our supplies are limited, and the two new recruits won't be much help. If danger arises, we'd have to divide our attention to look after them."
"But..." OTs-12 ruminated for a few seconds. "Alright, but make sure you stay safe. I'll drop off the new recruits and then come to help you."
Don't worry. If I run into trouble, I'll request reinforcements.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kruger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services - Tactical Support Team
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Stechkin
Mission Number: █-█-█
Time: Day 2
Status: In Progress

After a brief discussion with OTs-12, she held onto some ammunition so she and the new recruits could defend themselves, and I took the remaining supplies.
I carefully packed these scarce resources away and loaded them onto the jeep before driving toward M1895's location all by myself.
Without OTs-12 to nag me, the vast wilderness was filled with only with the sound of the jeep's engine.
I turned on the old car stereo, and after a burst of static, smooth jazz music began to play.

"Time to find another place to earn a living."
I shook my head as I thought about the news of Griffin's dissolution.
I'd be better off thinking about what I wanted to do next. My requirements aren't high, and I wasn't exactly harboring delusions of encountering another employer like the Commander. As long as I had a relatively stable income and could pick up some odd jobs, it should be fine.
I wondered if that'd be too much to ask for.

With a wry smile, I tapped on the navigation device, which showed the remaining distance between me and M1895. Hmm... I still needed to maintain my current speed for a while.
"Even though that 'senior' is somewhat reckless, ordinary Sangvis Ferri shouldn't be too much for her, right?"
I attempted to come up with an answer, and my programs gave me a few possible oucomes.
The worst-case scenario was that they encountered elite Sangvis Ferri forces not mentioned in the briefing.
There was also a lingering question in my neural cloud.
"Why didn't they just abort the mission and retreat? Could it be that they didn't receive the notification about Griffin's dissolution?"
Hmm... it's not out of the question, but considering M1895's personality, she might have had her own plans.
After all, she is a rather stubborn "senior".

My impression of M1895 dated back from when I had just completed my tactical Doll conversion. At that time, I had given up my previous job, and after moving between several PMCs, I finally succeeded in joining Griffin.
I first met M1895 in Helian's office.

"Welcome to Griffin, Stechkin."
In front of me, Helian had just finished reviewing my employment registration form. She got up from behind her desk to shake my hand warmly.
At that time, tactical Doll's names in Griffin were merely designations representing their imprinted firearm types. So I gave up the name "Ksenia", which I had used while working in a restaurant, and wrote "Stechkin" on the form instead.
As the saying goes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do... and I hoped this would mark the start of a new journey.

"Thank you, what should I do next?"
"From now on, you are a probationary employee at Griffin. I've arranged for a senior to mentor you. Strange, she should have arrived by now. Why hasn't she come over yet?"
"So... sorry, I'm late!"
A voice from the doorway drew my attention, and I saw a short Doll standing there, wearing an outrageous hat.
I had to say, that hat was incredibly tall, to the point where I found myself focusing on it rather than its wearer.
"M1895, being late doesn't set a good example for the new recruit." Helian said sternly.
"Sorry, I took a bit longer choosing a hat to make a good impression on my junior..."
"This won't happen again. Stechkin, this is the senior I mentioned. Why don't the two of you get acquainted?"
Helian gave a brief introduction, and then the Doll came over and extended her hand warmly.
"Hello, newbie! I'm 'M1895', one of Griffin's most senior veterans. With me guiding you, rest assured that nothing can go wrong!"

The Nagant M1895, huh... it's an old gun.
I noted her name, but I didn't feel particularly reassured. In my mind, a reliable senior should be a tall and imposing Doll, right? Still, it's best to remain polite.
"Hello, Senior. I'm Stechkin, please take care of me."
"Very good, a very polite junior! Helian, I'll take her to the training room now!"
"Go ahead, and make sure Stechkin gets familiar with our work procedures as soon as possible."

Thus, I followed M1895 out of the office. On the way, this senior started talking about her "combat experience".
"...When facing the enemy, you must stand tall and project confidence and authority!"
Ignoring my blank expression entirely, M1895 continued talking enthusiastically as she walked ahead.
"Senior, may I ask a question?"
"Of course, I love curious juniors!"
M1895 turned to face me, her expression full of approval.
"Senior, when can we start missions? I want to begin earning money as soon as possible."

"Eh, money?"
M1895 hesitated, as if she didn't quite understand what I meant.
"Ambition is good, but you shouldn't be too eager. Bullets don't discriminate on the battlefield; lacking solid basics can be detrimental."
"So, when can we start earning money?"
"First, focus on learning the theoretical knowledge and procedures! Dolls who enter and leave the field immediately are not considered effective combatants!"
Finally, she understood that I was just focused on earning money. After a mild scolding that lacked any real severity, M1895 started another lengthy lecture.
"Remember, the timing of firing must be coordinated, so that... Stechkin, are you paying attention?"
"Ah, yes, yes, Senior, you're absolutely right." I replied absentmindedly, not recalling what M1895 had said.
"It feels like you're just brushing me off... Anyway, here's the training room. Let's start with some basic shooting practice!"

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural Link check... No abnormalities.
Frame function check... No abnormalities.
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful.

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful.
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful.

Affiliation: Griffin & Kruger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services - Support Operations Team
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Stechkin
Mission Number: █-█-█
Time: Day 1
Status: In Progress

A week later, guided by M1895, I successfully "graduated" and received my first mission from Griffin: to sabotage a Sangvis Ferri warehouse.

"15 Dinergates at the front entrance, 15 more at the rear entrance."
M1895 counted the number of Sangvis Ferri units as we crouched on a small hill, surveying the perimeter of the warehouse.
"Senior, do you remember how much we'll be paid for this mission?"
"Hmm... check the email, I can't recall it exactly."
How typical, forgetting the most important details. I was a rookie, so that was that, but I didn't expect M1895 to be so careless.

I pulled out my communication terminal and brought up the mission dispatch email from Griffin.
"Senior, the reward seems a bit low. Could there have been an error at HQ?"
"Eh? Let me see."
M1895 took my terminal.
"There's no mistake, that's the right amount."
"That little pay? Aren't they being too stingy... It only adds up to a tiny bit for each of us..."
"That's the standard amount, and our mission is quite straightforward."
"Senior, could we move on to high-difficulty missions right away? I want to earn money faster."
"Don't rush. As a newcomer, you need to advance step by step. Since this is your first mission, I should also teach you some combat techniques."

M1895 began a lengthy lecture again, sharing her outdated "antique experience", which I found utterly boring.
"Even when facing the enemy, you must fight with honor—Stechkin, are you listening?"
"Ah?"
"Pay attention! If you don't listen closely, you'll have a hard time in combat!"
"Yes, Senior, you're right."
I answered lazily and brushed it off as usual.

"Senior, when do we start?"
"You're very enthusiastic. It seems I chose well—you're indeed a junior worth cultivating."
"No, I just want to complete the mission quickly and get the reward."
It seemed my response left M1895 at a loss for words. After a full half-minute of silence, she finally spoke again.
"Don't always focus on money! Stechkin, are you in dire need of funds?"
"Yeah, I just completed my frame conversion. Not only did I spend all my savings, but I also ended up taking a huge loan. Interest rates on loans are quite high these days, and if I don't repay on time, the debt will just keep snowballing."
"I... What happens if you can't pay it back?"
M1895 blinked, looking like she had no experience with loans or debt.
"If I can't pay it back, I'll be scrapped." I replied with a sigh.

In reality, debtors wouldn't be dismantled, but I exaggerated the consequences to make sure M1895 wouldn't stop me from earning money.
"That bad?" M1895 looked shocked.
"Of course, paying what you owe is an eternal principle. If you can't pay, then the only thing left for you is to be scrapped and sold for parts."
"I see. I'm sorry I misunderstood you. As a senior, it's my duty to look after my juniors. If you're truly in need of money, I'll do my best to help you out!"
"Really, Senior? How do you plan to help me?"
In my neural cloud records, such words were mostly formalities, so I was just joking when I asked. I hadn't really expected a sincere response from M1895.
"Don't worry, you'll see. Let's go! We'll assault the storage from the front and show those Sangvis Ferri dogs what we're made of!"

M1895 charged down the hill first, with me trailing behind at a safe distance.
There were 15 Dinergates at the front of the storage compartment. Even a rookie like me knew that directly confronting them with just handguns would be nearly impossible.
Then, M1895, who was leading the charge, engaged the Dinergates but was quickly suppressed by their fire, forcing her to take cover and unable to lift her head.
"Stechkin, give me some fire support!"
I didn't do as she told me; instead, I circled around to the side while the Dinergates concentrated their fire on M1895.
"Stechkin, why aren't you responding? Damn it, is my glorious reputation going to be ruined on a rookie mission?"
Any other Doll following her blindly and firing away might have been destroyed right there.
Fortunately, I knew how to analyze the situation and I exercised my discretion.
"Senior, now!"
Finding a suitable shooting position, I attacked the Dinergates from the side. After destroying one, I drew all their fire toward myself.
"Stechkin, you—"
"We'll discuss this later. For now, retreat and regroup at the backup observation point!"

I followed the pre-planned route and escaped from the Dinergates' encirclement. After I reached the backup observation point, I found M1895 who was clearly upset.
Her cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel with a stash of nuts. I could sense that M1895 was very displeased with my "disobedience".
"Senior, that was close."
I walked up to M1895, and she immediately turned her back on me.
"Hmph, if you had followed my orders and supported me in time, those Sangvis Ferri dogs wouldn't have stood a chance against me!"
"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, Senior. It was my first time in battle, and I lost my nerve."
Although M1895's tactics were flawed, I still disobeyed orders. As a rookie with no base of accomplishments to draw upon, wounding a senior's pride could lead to unnecessary complications.
"Senior, should we give it another go? This time, I'll stick with you and won't retreat."
"Stechkin..."
M1895's tone softened a bit. She seemed to grasp my intentions and realized that there were flaws in her battle plan.
"Forget it. The previous tactic was too difficult; it requires a veteran of my level to execute it properly. To accommodate rookies, let's launch a surprise attack from a weak spot instead."
"Senior, you're the leader, whatever you say goes..."
"Ahem, well, let's get ready again. We'll make sure those Sangvis Ferri dogs know who's boss!"

Having learned from our failure, M1895 adjusted the strategy. We breached the weak point in the warehouse's defenses and successfully planted our bombs inside it.
After we were a safe distance from the blast zone, M1895 activated the detonator.
Massive explosions rang out over and over as we boarded the jeep we had hidden earlier, and with the blazing inferno lighting our way, M1895 and I headed for safety.
A large number of Dinergates pursued us but couldn't match the jeep's speed, watching helplessly as the "culprits" gradually faded into the distance.

"Hahaha, have you experienced the power of my M1895 yet?"
M1895 stood on the passenger seat, making faces at the Dinergates behind us. Such risky behavior made me worry that she might be hit by stray bullets.
"Senior, sit down."
"They can't reach us—"
Before she could finish speaking, a stray bullet grazed M1895's hat, leaving a scorched black mark.
"I, I was actually trying to set an example and show you how dangerous this kind of behavior can be!"
At last, M1895 sat down. Not only did she stop moving around, she even fastened her seatbelt securely.
"Um, Stechkin..."
"What is it, Senior?"
"You did well today. I admit, you're a promising junior."
"Is that so? Then, is there any reward, like a bonus or something?"
"There's no bonus, but..."
M1895 paused, as if considering something.
"But I promised to help you with your financial issues, and I intend to keep that promise."
"Okay, okay, I'll wait. Take your time, Senior."
"Right, you can count on me!
I shrugged, stepped on the gas, and began thinking about how to maximize the mission's rewards.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kruger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services – Tactical Support Unit
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Stechkin
Mission Number: N/A
Time: 206█ Year █ Month █ Day
Status: N/A

The morning after completing my first mission, I received a funds transfer notification on my communication terminal. When I opened it, I found that the sender was M1895.
"Could this be Senior's way of assisting me?"
As I muttered to myself, I couldn't help but chuckle—I didn't expect M1895 to take my casual remark so seriously.
Since the amount wasn't large, I decided to accept it without hesitation. I decided to think of it as... compensation for the strategic advice I provided on the battlefield.
Yes, that's how it would be.

I set aside thoughts of the transfer, put away my communication terminal, and headed to the training room.
When I pushed open the door, I discovered that M1895 was already inside, training.
"Ah, it's, you, Stechkin. Good morning!"
As she greeted me, M1895 walked over.
"How about joining me? I was planning to share some valuable experience to help you perform better in future missions."
Seeing M1895's eager expression, I knew another lengthy lecture was on the way. Best to avoid it...
"I appreciate your good intentions, Senior, but I haven't fully mastered the techniques you taught me last time. I'd like to review them on my own."
"Oh, okay. Go ahead and review them, and I'll ask you questions later."
M1895 nodded in satisfaction.
...I hope she was just saying that. God forbid she actually turned it into a pending task in her neural cloud.

"I'll go revise my lessons now, Senior. See you later."
I waved to her and started moving to a nearby spot, but before I had taken more than a few steps, M1895 called out to me.
"Hang on!"
"Is there something else, Senior?"
"Did you receive the transfer? The amount isn't large, but I'm not sure if it will help resolve your issue..."
To be honest, that little bit of money wouldn't have covered my financial shortfall, but I truly appreciated the gesture.
"I've received it. Thank you for your thoughtful consideration, Senior! But it's still a long way from solving the problem."
"Indeed, it's not enough..."
M1895 nodded to herself as if she hadn't heard my thanks.
At the time, I didn't think much of it, but soon after, I received another funds transfer from M1895.

After that, whenever M1895 and I completed a mission together, she would always share a portion of her reward with me.
At first, I accepted it gladly, but as it happened more frequently, I started to feel a growing sense of guilt.

...

"(Sigh) Even someone like me can get frightened by such a persistent do-gooder."
As my reminiscing came to an end, I gripped the steering wheel and shook my head.
I didn't team up with M1895 again after that. I thought she would gradually forget about me, but to my surprise, I still received funds transfers from her during the holidays.

"This is M1895. We're surrounded by Sangvis Ferri forces and request immediate support..."
M1895's voice came through the communication terminal once more. I attempted to contact her, but was unsuccessful.
"Could Senior's terminal be broken? Come to think of it, why were they surrounded? Nowadays, missions involving Sangvis Ferri are usually just mop-up operations... Where would such a large force even come from? Did Senior deliberately seek it out?"
From what I knew about M1895, my assumption wasn't entirely groundless. But if that was the case, I needed to hurry.
Hang in there until I arrive, Senior.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Android Squad under Group Three of the Poltava and Surrounding Cities Public Security Administration.
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Stechkin
Mission Number: N/A
Time: █/█/206█
Status: N/A

It had been a while since I rescued Nagant, and I had to say, her personality hasn't changed one bit even after years apart.
Upon returning to Griffin, I chose to accept the reassignment plan they were offering.

After arriving in this satellite city, I spent some time in between jobs. Today was the moment I officially joined the satellite city's police department as a police Doll.
Overall, I was satisfied with the outcome. During this transitional period, the squad's management was pretty decent, and it's safer for us members too.
Most importantly, I could take on part-time jobs during my off-hours to earn some extra cash and buy things I want.
After all, I can't claim my receipts from the Commander anymore...

Incidentally, my choice to accept the re-location was influenced by Nagant, and like me, she was also assigned here.
Previously, when we were unemployed Dolls, we carried out some missions together. From what I could tell, she should have been here with me today for the new recruit orientation, officially becoming a police Doll.
So far, I haven't seen her yet.

"Everyone, we will now begin formal team assignments. Before that, your seniors will explain some rules."
The head of the public security squad stood at the podium and motioned towards the door.
"Seniors?"
I immediately looked towards the door and saw an unfamiliar Doll enter my field of vision.
That's right. According to the dates when we started working, both Nagant and I were considered "newcomers". It's clear that the "senior" that the person in charge mentioned couldn't be her.

"Hello everyone, let me introduce some basic information..."
The unfamiliar Doll's explanation began, straightforward and efficient. Working with such a Doll would likely reduce many problems.
However...
I looked at the unfamiliar Doll on the podium. Her briskness and speed was indeed impressive, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.

"Listen up: when fighting enemies, you must do so with honor."

Huh?
All of a sudden, I heard a familiar voice. I looked around but couldn't see her anywhere.
What's happening? Could it be that my auditory modules were malfunctioning? That would be expensive to fix.
Or...
Suddenly, I realized that I missed Griffin.
Even though I had been away from Griffin for a while, I had become accustomed to its people and environment. Adapting to a new setting hadn't been easy.
...It would be nice if I could be in the same group as someone I knew.
However, I also understood that with so many Dolls in the security squad, the chances of being assigned to the same group as Nagant was quite low.

Still, I was curious. Was there an opportunity for a job transfer after being hired?
Maybe I could hack into the security management system and adjust the team assignments.
No, without specialized espionage software, the risk would be too high.
If my identity was exposed, I might lose my job.
...(Sigh) I should just forget about it. Just being assigned to the same satellite city was quite fortunate. Even if we're not in the same group, it's not a bad outcome.

"Everyone, that's all you need to take note of. I'm finished." The strange Doll concluded her explanation.
She left the podium, and the supervisor stepped forward.
"Next, we'll be announcing team assignments. After that, you can head back to your dorms. Today is your first day on the job, so we've given you some time to prepare. Make sure to get yourself ready and report for duty on time tomorrow morning."
We get half a day off? That's great!
It looked like there's a shopping center nearby. I'll go shopping there this afternoon.
Should I invite Nagant? I did end up chatting with her because of our job change... I'm not sure if she could adapt to the work environment in the satellite city. I hope she's not left alone where her imagination could run wild.
I should chat with her again. After all, I'm her "senior" when it came to non-PMC work.

"Sorry, I'm late!"
The door to the preparation room was pushed open, and the voice sounded a bit familiar. I turned to look.
"Senior?"
I asked the same question as before, but this time, I actually saw Nagant.
"What happened?" The head was somewhat annoyed.
"Sorry, I... got lost..." Nagant said, leaning against the door frame and panting.
"If you're late, hurry up and find a seat. I'm about to announce the team assignments."
"Y-Yes!"
Nagant bowed to the supervisor, then quickly looked around, located me, and hurried over.
It's strange—why do I feel like she somehow knew I'd be here?

"Stechkin? What a coincidence, hehe, hehehe."
"Senior, this smells like a "conspiracy" to me."
"What smell? Why can't I smell anything?"
Nagant feigned innocence and winked at me.
"Quiet!"
The supervisor pounded the table. Nagant and I immediately straightened up and stopped talking.

"Pay attention, the list won't be sent to you. I'll read it only once. Team One..."
The head picked up the list and began reading.
Initially, I wasn't really expecting anything from this. But halfway through the list, neither Nagant nor I had been called... For some reason, I began to feel a bit anxious.
"Team Six..."
Still no mention of Nagant or me. Is there a chance we'll end up in the same group?
"Team Eight..."
The air around us seemed to freeze. I paused all unnecessary calculations and focused entirely on waiting.
"Team Nine..."
This was the second-to-last team, and neither Nagant nor I had been named, meaning...
"Team Ten, Stechkin, Nagant."

"We did it!"
After the head left, Nagant exclaimed.
I looked at her with suspicion, and she quickly gave an awkward smile, looking innocent.
"This... this is too much of a coincidence, don't you think, Stechkin?"
"Yes, it feels like someone arranged this." I replied.
"Impossible, it's just luck! With such good luck today, why not buy a lottery ticket?"
"Sure, Senior."

After the team assignments were completed, we left the security management center.
I thought Nagant was just joking, but she insisted on dragging me to buy lottery tickets, saying it was her duty as a senior and that promises must be kept.
Thus, we went to the nearest lottery center near our dorms.
After paying, the owner guided us to download the lottery app and sent three "digital scratch cards" to each of our accounts, mine and Nagant's.
It's said that "digital scratch cards" were designed to replicate the experience of scratching a physical card, but these chance games weren't appealing to Dolls. Also, I always felt a bit silly scratching a screen, so I had never bought them before.

"Senior, I still find today's team assignments a bit suspicious. Did you do something behind the scenes to make sure we ended up in the same group?"
While asking, I scratched off the last square on the lottery ticket. As expected, it was a "Thank you for playing."
With that, I had scratched all three of my tickets and won nothing.
"How could that be possible? Even if I wanted to do something, I couldn't tamper with the data in the security management system. I've heard their security protocols are extremely advanced and can detect any intrusion. Unless..."
"Unless what, Senior?"
I leaned in next to Nagant and took a look at her terminal screen. Except for the last square on the final ticket, the revealed content was exactly the same as mine.
"It... it's nothing, it's just a coincidence!" Nagant shut the topic down, her expression stiff.
"But there are so many districts in the satellite city, and so many security management teams."
"Oh, don't get hung up on it. It's an electronic miracle, an electronic miracle!"

"An electronic miracle, huh..." I muttered softly.
"Y... yes, it's impressive, right? It must be the good luck I've accumulated from my daily good deeds. Yes, that's it, and besides..."
Nagant continued fabricating various reasons.
However, I had a pretty good idea of the real reason behind the team assignments.
Restaurants would close down, Griffin would disband and restructure, and we would have gone our separate ways.
There was no such thing as miracles in this world. Everything was simply the result of human actions within the framework of societal order, just like...
I picked up the terminal she had put down and gently scratched off the last square.
...Huh?
The terminal screen displayed the words "Fourth Prize."
"Stechkin, you won!"
"...It looks like your electronic miracle quota was used up, but mine is still intact, Senior."
"This way, we not only covered the cost of the scratch cards but also made a small profit!"
"So, what do you plan to do with the prize money, Senior? Buy a new hat, maybe?"
"No, we won together, so I should split it with you, Stechkin."

Should I accept it? I hesitated for a moment, but then decided.
"Senior, you really haven't changed at all."
"Huh, I've changed? What change?" Nagant seemed puzzled by my comment.
"Never mind, if you're willing to share, I'll gladly accept it..."
It seems that whether it's the result of human intervention or the favor of an electronic miracle, I should remain grateful.
With that thought, I extended my right hand to her.

"We're colleagues from now on, Senior. I look forward to working with you."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Transcender

Summary

This story is linked to Dusty Memories#First Counterattack.

When on a mission with her PMC team one day, the Tactical Doll II_77090 is damaged by a Varjagers attack. She's captured by Doll smugglers and sent with a group of other stolen Dolls to a Doll Hunting Safari. During six months, she keeps being shot down and repaired while seeing countless civilian Dolls be destroyed by the hunters or explode because of their implanted explosives when trying to flee. On her twelfth hunt, having collected enough data to map out the hunting grounds and understand the best tactics to use against the hunters, II_77090 decides to fight back, taking advantage of the fact that the smugglers couldn't overwrite her legal ownership and left her the possibility of defending herself. After successfully chasing a hunter away using rocks and taking his bow and quiver, II_77090 decides to leave the hunting grounds, even though she will probably explode and nobody will ever use her neural backups. By sheer luck, the government cracks down on the hunting grounds at the same time. II_77090's explosive doesn't activate and she finds her freedom.

After the Doll Community pushed back their first human attack, Ullrid tells the story of her time as a prey to Suomi to illustrate the importance of giving to Dolls the opportunity to make choices for themselves.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ████
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: N/A
Mission Number: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

The time now was... 5 a.m.
We mounted a defense and fought off the bounty hunters attacking us, but it's not time to rest yet.
Frame damage among the Dolls has reached 62%, and we hadn't even completed an inventory check regarding other supply losses. Before deciding our next move, we needed to regroup and recover as much as possible to prepare for any new dangers that might arise.

"Sis, aren't you going to check on WKp's repairs?"
I was inspecting a piece of equipment that was 80% damaged. Just as I was about to pick up a wrench to salvage what usable parts I could find, someone walked up to me. It was Suomi, who was in charge of perimeter security, and she was holding a portable camera that had a bullet hole in it.
"WKp's frame has been stabilized. Rosalyne's there, so there's no need to worry."
"Now that we have enough manpower, you should leave the work at the entrance of the ruins to us. Why don't you go see her, Sis?"
"No, we don't know enough about the enemy's situation, so bringing our defenses back up should be the top priority. Besides, I might be able to repair simpler equipment, but I'm no good when it comes to Dolls. WKp will be fine."
"Well, if you say so... Oh, could you help me take a look at this device? It's not working, so I tried to open it up to check inside, but I can't get it open..."
Suomi looked rather bothered by this, so I picked up the wrench I had put aside and took the damaged camera from her.
It would seem the bullet had damaged its structure and warped the screw threads at the joints, so a bit of force was needed to get it open.
I used said amount of force, but the moment it sprang open, a mess of parts fell all over the ground.

"Sorry... I guess I was too rough with it..."
I quickly apologized, then bent down and tried to pick up the scattered parts.
"Don't say that. I'm just glad you managed to help pop it open. Frankly speaking, we had a close call back there; there's no way we could have defeated the bounty hunters without you."
"Everyone did that together. It wasn't just me."
"But without you, everyone wouldn't have been as united as they are now. If you hadn't been helping and caring for the Dolls with below-average specs, with your skills, it would have been easy for you to find a better group of bounty hunters or an underground broker squad to join, right?"

Helping, caring for, Dolls with below-average specs...
I didn't respond right away. Instead, I picked up a nut.
I held it up and looked at the sky. Sunlight streamed through the hole in its center, casting a light on my face.
A long time ago, the noonday sun had been just as intense as it was now.

That was back when I had still been working for a PMC, accompanying a convoy into the contamination zone for a security mission. Not long after, one of the jeeps broke down, and we had to stop to make repairs.
The mechanic assigned to the convoy was Andre. He ordered me to pass him parts. After working for a while, I held up a nut without thinking and gazed at the sky...

"II_77090, are you spacing out on me? Hand me the part!"
There was a shout, followed by a kick to my shin. I set down the nut and handed him the parts.
"Not that one! What's wrong with you? Is this little bit of heat enough to burn out your neural cloud?"
Even the noonday heat of the desert wouldn't affect a Doll. I said nothing and found the correct part.
"Didn't we just buy you? The purchaser must have been taking kickbacks again! God, you're so damn slow!"
Andre's mood was still bad. The high temperature wasn't affecting me, but it must have had an effect on him.
Perhaps I should suggest that he take a break.

"All Dolls, prepare for combat!"
Before I could voice my suggestion, Arthur hurriedly ran up to us, interrupting my train of thought.
"The... The Varjagers... they're here!"
Arthur was in charge of keeping an eye on our surroundings. Essentially, he was our lookout. He collapsed in front of me before he could finish speaking: "Hel... help... me..."
He had a bullet wound, but it was the medical Dolls' responsibility to treat the injured. As a tactical Doll, my duty was to take up arms and fight.
I looked around for the vehicle with our weapons in it, and at the same time, the sound of gunfire filled the air.
The Varjager's ambush was too sudden, throwing the entire PMC convoy into chaos. Too few people managed to return fire.
By the time I found the transport, a mortar shell had caught up with me. I couldn't avoid the explosion and lost my balance. The last thing I saw in my vision module was a blinding flame.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ██Security Transport Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: N/A
Mission number: ███
Time: Day█
Status: In Progress

My frame rebooted, my neural cloud functions resumed, and my vision modules resumed their normal functions.
The attackers that caused my frame to briefly shut down had vanished, along with the surrounding gunfire and the endless yellow sand.
I had to quickly assess the extent of my frame's damage, my location, and the outcome of the battle.
Driven by my programming, I moved and noticed that my synthetic muscles showed signs of repair, and some unfamiliar Dolls came into view. I... I didn't know them. They weren't from the PMC convoy I was previously with.
What happened?
With insufficient information to make an accurate judgment, I tried to observe my surroundings and assess my situation.

This place appeared to be a factory. It was spacious but poorly lit. The factory was equipped with some basic maintenance tools, all of which appeared quite old.
As I looked further into the distance, I noticed that the chain link fencing around us was connected to generators, suggesting that it was live with high voltage current. Through the fence, I saw some rough-looking humans carrying guns. In addition, there were remote-controlled machine guns mounted on the factory roof. Everything about this place seemed suspicious.

"Where is this place?"
"Oh no, I haven't made the delivery yet! I'm going to get a one-star rating now..."
"Excuse me, I've been working in a bar until now. Could you tell me where we are?"
The sound of lively chatter filled the air as some Dolls, who were clearly civilian in origin, powered up. In contrast, the Dolls with modified frames and who looked like they had combat experience were much quieter.
"In a bar? Looks like you won't be going back to it, just like me."
The answer from one of the Dolls left the questioner bewildered.
"Won't be going back... what do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. I used to work in a bar myself. While I was unloading cargo in an alley, someone approached me from behind and broke the connection between my neural cloud and my frame with a disruptor. By the time my frame rebooted, I found myself here."
"I think I was delivering takeout when someone..."
I stopped listening to their chatter. It would appear that everyone, like me, had encountered some kind of "incident" before waking up.
After thinking back on the news articles I had seen recently, I began to speculate about the "factory" I was currently in.

While on a few missions in the Green Zone, I had seen roadside screens playing news broadcasts about Doll smuggling. Dolls obtained through legitimate means were expensive and their neural clouds needed to be registered, so using them for "unsafe" activities was very troublesome. This gave rise to a Doll-trafficking black market within the safe zones. In a short period, many Dolls were registered as "lost" by their owners. While the government dispatched a large number of personnel to investigate the matter, they made next to no progress.
I looked at the strangely dressed humans again, and after considering the Dolls' words, I guessed that this place might be one of the hubs for illegal trade.

"Are you lot still in the mood to chat? Eh, forget it, you're all new here after all... A friendly tip: if you don't want to end up as scrap metal, run as soon as the door opens."
Run as soon as the door opened?
I stared at the Doll who had spoken, confused by her words... What did she mean?

As I was pondering the meaning of that phrase, the factory's main door opened. Sunlight flooded in, brightening my field of vision.
"Quite a haul today."
"Ho, you don't say. Bringing merchandise in has become much easier lately. Hey, you there, get these things out there!"
I instinctively looked at the people who walked in through the main door. They were talking loudly and seemed impatient.
The Dolls near the door bolted out the moment it opened. The Doll who had warned us was right behind them, while the "newbies", including me, stood frozen in place.

"Get your asses out there, you pieces of junk!"
A human pointed his assault rifle at us and fired at the feet of a civilian Doll.
The sudden gunfire sent the timid civilian Dolls into panic. They screamed in terror and fled the factory floor.
"That's more like it. Tch, had to waste bullets on that lot. The rest of you, don't just stand there, follow them!"
The speaker wasn't my owner, and I had no reason to follow his orders, but my analysis module had already concluded the following—if I didn't comply, I was likely to be shot.
After a pause, I quickly followed, running out of the factory's door.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ██Security Transport Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: N/A
Mission number: ███
Time: Day█
Status: N/A

There was a barren plain outside the factory building. There were withered trees as far as the eye could see, all of them the color of the dirt.
I tried to check my location, but I couldn't connect to either Level II or access the communication frequency. There must have been a signal jammer in the area. Also, my GPS module had been destroyed. This meant that missing Dolls could not be tracked.
This further convinced me that I had become a "victim" of illegal Doll trafficking. In all likelihood, my PMC had probably registered me as "signal lost", or perhaps, "destroyed".
I doubt anyone from the convoy who qualified as an "authorized owner" had survived the previous attack.
Dolls were expensive, and they were a significant expense for businesses such as restaurants and bars in safe zones. Thus, if we went missing, they would lodge a report with the authorities in the hopes of recovering them. For PMCs that frequently operated in contamination zones, Dolls were still valuable assets, but recovering one from the harsh environs of the Yellow Zone was likely to incur even greater costs—nobody would go looking for a dropped gun in the desert.
I checked my ownership status again, and it still showed me belonging to that PMC. In that case, if I were to be found be government officials, they might follow my registration records and return me to my owners......

That said, I wasn't sure whether I ought to leave or stay. Even if I were rescued, I would probably end up having to face the consequences for a failed mission, including lowered employee evaluations. I would most likely end up being assigned to complete extremely hazardous missions too.
By danger level alone... It was hard to say if a situation like that would be much safer than what I faced now!

Bang, bang!
Faint sudden noises interrupted my thoughts. I recognized them; it was the sound of gunfire.
My programs quickly assessed the situation and informed me that the gunshots were coming from outside of their effective range. After knowing that I was safe for the time being, I relaxed a little.
"...Were, were those gunshots just now? They were, right?"
The civilian Dolls running past me had panicked looks on their faces. They had no combat experience and thus no relevant data in their neural cloud records. While they could estimate the general direction of the gunfire, they couldn't accurately gauge the distance.
Over time, the sound of the gunshots became clearer. My computation module operated at high speed, integrating data on multiple levels, and I realized that we needed to find a place to hide.
But where could we hide?
Looking around, I saw that the plain was desolate. There were barely enough withered trees big enough to hide behind, let alone effective cover for a firefight. The terrain was too open, and there was nowhere to hide.
Meanwhile, I heard another sound.

Vrm... vrrrrmmmm...
It was the sound of a vehicle engine.
Based on the volume of the engine noise and the surrounding terrain, I concluded that the source of the noise was very close to me, in the same direction as the gunshots.
While it was unclear whether the occupants were friends or foes, they most likely had firearms and there was a very high chance that they would attack us.
In other words, this was a sign of danger.
"Run, everyone, don't stop!"
I called out to the three civilian Dolls beside me for their sake.
However, I had no idea where to run or in which direction I could go. All we could do was run forward aimlessly as the sound of the engine grew louder.

Bang! Bang!
This time, the gunshots came from behind me. I managed to identify their source in time and maneuvered my limbs to dodge the bullets.
The bullets sped past me, the shockwaves of their high-speed passage hammering my frame's surface—it would seem at least three shots had been fired, which narrowly missed me.
"You're too slow, run faster, hahaha!"
It was a human voice.
I wanted to verify the identity of the newcomers, so I glanced in the direction of the sound as I ran.
The source of the sound was an open-top jeep with three humans: one driving and the other two firing their guns. They were dressed in hunting gear, which was distinctly different from the style of the humans in the factory.
Bang! Bang!
Another volley of shots followed, but none hit me or the Dolls frantically dodging beside me. The jeep accelerated and stayed close behind us.
We were so close to them that we could hear them chatting with each other.
"Wow, you suck! I can't believe you missed every single shot! Stop wasting ammo and get in the driver's seat so I can take over!"
The driver sounded excited as he mocked the other two men.
"Bullets are free at the Doll Hunting Safari!"
"That's right, so stop dragging your feet! There are four Dolls ahead, don't let them escape!"
"Slow down, let them get further away. It's too easy this close!"

Doll Hunting Safari?
Now what was the meaning of that phrase... Definition found.
Although information on them was limited, my records indicated that "Doll Hunting Safaris" were illegal establishments where operators bought large quantities of Dolls from criminals and use them as "hunting targets". The specific locations, methods of operation, and personnel involved remained unknown.
It seemed that I was now in one such "safari" as the "prey".
Without orders from my owners, I could only make snap judgments based on my available information. Continuing to run was the only option available to me at the moment.
After another burst of intense gunfire, two civilian Dolls were hit by bullets and fell heavily to the ground.
I turned to check the situation and saw the jeep running over the Doll bodies without hesitation as it continued to chase us.

"That's more like it! Now, it's time to switch drivers!"
"Wait a moment, there are still two more left. Let's take out one more!"
"By the way, what's the point of just disabling them? Why don't we make things a little more interesting?"
"How so?"
"We'll only aim at the Dolls' arms and see who scores the most hits!"
I couldn't make out the rest of their conversation as the jeep slowed down, and I couldn't stop.

I tried to speak to the last remaining civilian Doll beside me, but I found that her neural cloud was completely scrambled. Her legs were still running, but her hands were repeating meaningless motions.
"Dear customer, your delivery has arrived... Boss, I'm here to pick up order 36... I'm sorry, please don't file a complaint..."
Her speech made no sense. I couldn't decipher its meaning.
Should I help to force-restart her?
My computation module indicated that I wouldn't be able to do much to help her, given that my own survival was in question.
Just as I was about to pull her out of the way of the incoming gunfire, a stray bullet pierced her chest.

"You retard, what the hell are you doing?!"
One of the humans was cursing at his companion, and I couldn't understand why he was so angry.
The jeep ran over the fallen civilian Doll again, and the driver seemed to take pleasure in it.
As the only Doll left running, the probability of being taken down was... 99.99%.
My neural cloud began to destabilize. I tried to refocus myself, but it didn't work. I briefly blue-screened, which caused me to lose awareness of my surroundings. I stumbled and, once my vision stabilized, realized I had fallen into a ditch.

"Aren't you going to wait until it gets back up to shoot?"
"Hehe, I wanted to see how powerful this new gun is at point-blank range."
"Suit yourself."
The voices of the humans were getting closer. I had to get up and keep running.
"Hmph, still trying to run?"
A dark barrel appeared in my field of vision.
All I could do was execute my neural cloud backup upload command before he opened fire.

Bang!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ██Security Transport Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: N/A
Mission number: ███
Time: Day█
Status: N/A

System reboot successful.
According to my neural cloud records, this was my twelfth reboot in the Doll Hunting Safari.
Since I could only access a fixed server and couldn't connect to the underground broker network, I had no way of knowing how long I'd been here. However, based on things I'd overheard from the humans, it seems to be around six months.
Handling data during PMC missions was complex and extensive; by contrast, life in the Doll Hunting Safaris was much simpler.
Here, my daily life was a simple cycle of running, being destroyed, and then being repaired. As long as my frame wasn't too badly damaged, the staff would repair me and release me back into the hunting ground as prey.
In a sense, life had become "easier".

"You lot over there, stand in the first row! That lot over there, stand in the second row!"
The staff gave orders, and I followed them, quickly taking my place in the second row.
My ownership remains unchanged, and the reason I obeyed was simply because my neural cloud made that decision based on self-preservation...
Remaining still might upset the staff, which might cause them to shoot at me. The optimal choice was to comply and wait for the factory gate to open.

Today's hunt is different from the usual. My database had never recorded the "grouping" process I just went through.
Is this a new kind of hunt?
Maybe, but with insufficient information, I couldn't provide an accurate analysis.
Regardless, the outcome of the "game" won't change. The core rule of this killing field was that humans hunted Dolls.
The factory gate slowly opened once preparations were complete. The staff stood in front of us and ordered the first row of Dolls to move out.

Just when I thought everything was proceeding as usual and that being grouped up like this was just a whim of the staff, a civilian Doll's neural cloud crashed. She remained in place, her limbs trembling.
In terms of human behavior, this might be called "fear", but for a Doll, "neural confusion" might be a more apt description.
The remaining Dolls in the first row followed the orders and set off, leaving the crashed Doll where she stood.

"Huh, so Dolls can get scared too? Bull!"
The staff member raised his assault rifle and took aim, but the crashed Doll remained motionless.
"What are you waiting for? Run already! Do you want to be scrap metal?"
"Noticing that threats were ineffective, he took a remote control out of his pocket."
Dolls deployed in this hunting ground were fitted with remote-controlled bombs before their first hunt. These bombs were installed near their neural cloud modules, and if a Doll does anything to overstep their bounds, the staff could manually detonate them. Additionally, if a Doll left a specific area within the hunting ground, the main control room's remote systems would automatically broadcast a detonation signal. I once saw a Doll who crossed the fence that marked the boundary of the hunting ground explode into pieces right before my eyes. At that time, that fragile fence had been less than 30 meters away from me.
For beings ruled by reason such as Dolls, they would naturally avoid such self destructive actions in the absence of a logical reason to the contrary or orders from a superior.
Before this, I had considered escaping from the hunting grounds, but upon discovering the existence of the main control room, I abandoned that idea.

"You have five more seconds... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."
The staff member grew more and more annoyed, but I concluded that he would not press the button. Blowing up a Doll for nothing at this point would not be worthwhile, and detonating a Doll inside the factory might lead to him getting injured.
"Damn it, it really crashed. Shouldn't have wasted my breath on it."
Seeing that his ultimatum had no effect and that the malfunctioning Doll remained motionless, the human simply cursed and fired at the ground by the Doll's feet.
The bullets struck the ground, causing the civilian Doll to keel over, knocking over a maintenance cart as it fell forward and scattering tools and parts across the floor.

"Stupid tin can! Drag it away and bring me something that works!"
It looked like this little incident was coming to an end, so I stopped focusing on the malfunctioning civilian Doll and continued to wait for the order to head out.
At that moment, a nut rolled to my feet.
I bent down and picked up the nut.
Then, I pointed the nut at the open factory gate. Sunlight filtered through its hole, casting a glow on my face...

Images from before the Varjager's attack flashed through my mind.
I glanced at the nut, then at the civilian Doll being dragged away by the maintenance crew. Then, an idea I never pondered before began to form in my neural cloud.

Humans created cars for transportation.
Humans created refrigerators to preserve food.
To meet different needs, humans assembled parts into various types of mechanical bodies...
For a moment, I felt a connection with this nut, seeing a reflection of myself in it...

To meet various needs, humans installed and uploaded preset programs into Dolls, transforming them into servers, nurses, or even soldiers...
When humans required PMCs to ensure their safety, I became a member of a PMC unit.
When humans needed to hunt, I became one of many prey in the Doll Hunting Safaris.
If humans had new needs, what would I become then?
Would my existence be forever based on orders from on high?

I couldn't come up with an answer. My computation module was operating at maximum output. Its system resource usage was high and so were the chances that I would bluescreen. It was only when my sensors registered an impact on my abdomen that I was spared the risk of crashing and returned to normal.
"What, are you broken too?"
A human was standing in front of me, an unhappy look on his face. He had struck me with the butt of his gun.
"If you're fine, hurry up and get out of here!"
Based on past events, not responding fast enough might lead to being shot, so I quickly moved forward and left through the factory gate.

And so the twelfth hunt began.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ██Security Transport Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: N/A
Mission number: ███
Time: Day█
Status: N/A

After reviewing the many hunts I was involved in, I arrived at the conclusion that coordinated action as a group could extend the lifespan of Dolls involved in these hunts and increase the time before they were shot and eliminated by hunters.
When multiple Dolls were discovered by hunters, the likelihood of any single one becoming the target was reduced. While hunters attacked one or more Dolls, the remaining Dolls could escape in different directions to find new hiding spots.
This time, however, I did not choose the optimal solution of following the other Dolls.
I chose to act on my own.

I kept running as my computation module kept providing me with potential hiding spots. I ignored them and did not stop.
Gunfire rang out near me more than once, but fortunately, I was not spotted by the hunters.
I kept running, with a single destination in mind: the boundary of the Doll Hunting Safari.
Unable to access the underground broker network and with a defective GPS, I had estimated its rough location through hunt after hunt.
As I ran, the computation module kept throwing up alarms, but it was as though my legs were moving on their own, bringing me closer and closer to danger.
If this was the result of an error in judgement caused by a defect in my neural cloud's functioning, then I chose to accept that error.

I was not favored by the god of luck—assuming there was actually such a deity who was concerned about the fortunes of Dolls.
As I neared the edge of the hunting ground, my auditory modules detected a faint engine noise.
By determining the direction of the sound and actuating my vision modules, I discovered a motorcycle that had just started up not far from me.
The motorcycle picked up speed, and it was evident that the hunter riding it had spotted me as well.
My running speed couldn't compete with the motorcycle's. The hunter on the motorcycle drew closer, and as he approached, I noticed that his weapon was different from the others—he carried a compound bow instead of a hunting rifle.

"Can't run anymore? Come on, run faster! Hahaha!"
I heard the hunter's voice. He was behind me, maintaining a constant distance from me.
Number of hunters: 1. Weapon: compound bow. Range, movement speed... My computation module quickly concluded that this was the highest escape probability I had seen since entering the hunting ground as prey—32.5%.

Should I try it?
I hesitated for a moment, but the boundary of the Doll Hunting Safaris was now within reach.
Looking back, I saw the hunter let go of the motorcycle handlebars and draw his bow, aiming at me.
If I did something that surprised him at this moment, there would be a 78% chance that he would be unable to respond in time!
I immediately stopped, bent down, and picked up a football-sized stone from the ground. Although my weapons had been taken, the illegal nature of the Doll Hunting Safaris meant they could not fully access my permissions or alter my behavioral restrictions, which provided me with an opportunity.

"What do you think you're doing! You trash, are you trying to fight back?!"
The hunter was startled and released the bowstring. There was anger in his shout, but also a hint of fear. I took the opportunity and threw the stone, hitting the motorcycle's wheel.
The motorcycle lost balance and toppled over.
The compound bow and its quiver of arrows fell nearby. I quickly grabbed them, drew the bow, and aimed the arrow at him.
"You... you piece of junk... Stay away from me! Help, someone help me!"
The hunter scrambled to his feet and fled without looking back, continuously calling for help through his communicator. I kept the bow drawn until he disappeared into the distance.

Had I... driven away the hunter?
This was an unprecedented situation, causing fluctuations in my neural cloud.
Unlike the chaos of a system crash, I couldn't describe this feeling.
Then, the sound of gunfire erupted in the distance.
The gunfire was intense, as though dozens of weapons were firing simultaneously. However, the distance was sufficient that my computation module assured me I would not be affected.
What was happening? Was this a new kind of hunt?
I refrained from further speculation. After confirming that there were no other hunters nearby, I stowed the compound bow and continued on my way toward the boundary of the hunting ground.

The hunter had most likely reported my location, and soon others would arrive to recapture me.
Even though the hunting ground's boundary was fenced, a Doll could easily vault over it.
The staff did not rely on the fence to contain Dolls; it served only as a warning.
Crossing the fence would trigger a remote bomb, which would destroy the Doll beyond repair. Additionally, any Doll's neural data stored on the hunting ground's server would also be wiped. As for my PMC server...
Even if my neural data were still stored there, no one would bother to download it into a new frame.
If I exploded, all traces of me would be gone.
I would be truly destroyed.
My internal systems were frantically alerting me. If my permissions had been fully transferred, I would have likely already stopped moving to await new orders.
Was everything about me... forever bound by orders?

The question arose once more, and I still couldn't find an answer.
But no matter what, I would not stay here any longer.
This was not why I was made.
Even if the bomb destroyed me, it would be my...
My choice.

As my neural fluctuations intensified while approaching the fence, the computation module continuously updated the risk probability.
As I tightened my grip around the compound bow, I closed my eyes as the probability reached 100%.

However, the explosion I expected did not happen. I continued walking for a while, and the situation remained unchanged.
Could it be that the bomb or the systems in the main control room had malfunctioned? Had it been because of that gunfire just now?
That was my guess, but I no longer wanted to expend further processing power on the matter.
Instead, I chose to smile.
And with a smile on my face, I kept running toward the horizon...

...

After finishing the story, I set the nut aside and gave Suomi an answer.
"That is why I want to help and care for other Dolls, not just those who are less capable than others. I want to help all the Dolls I encounter. Their confusion when their ownerships disappear reminds me of the 'prey' in the Doll Hunting Safaris and of myself..."
"I want everyone to understand that Dolls can choose too, rather than always being treated as tools."

"Dolls' choices..." Suomi mused. "It's profound, yet somehow understandable..."
"So, what happened to the Doll Hunting Safari? Why didn't the bomb explode?"
"Later, I heard rumors that government forces had discovered it. The Doll Hunting Safari was shut down, and the remote detonation system for the bombs was likely destroyed at the same time... or perhaps the staff took the initiative to destroy it."
"I see..."
Suomi nodded.
"By the way, there's a piece of equipment over there that needs to be repaired. Could you lend me a hand, Sis?"
"Of course I can."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Mysterious Message

Summary

This story is linked to Dusty Memories#First Counterattack.

During Griffin & Kryuger's restructuring, ^HG WKpWKpWKp squanders both her chance to remain at the PMC and to be included in the reassignation pool due to her social avoidance. She ends up joining the convoy of the bounty hunter Bernard Allen, where she meets II_77090. Though Allen is wary of II_77090's rebellious streak, WKp thinks she's on par with Griffin Dolls in terms of fighting prowess, but favors protection over attack. One day as Allen makes a strategic blunder and II_77090 covers for him by disobeying orders, WKp tries to stand up for her but still can't talk properly. Since she can no longer count on a leader who will patiently listen to her like the Commander, WKp instead starts writing what she wants to say on paper and sympathizes with II_77090.

After Allen's disappearance, II_77090 starts taking the lead of the Dolls, but WKp hears her talking to herself about the stress of leadership. Comparing her to the Commander, WKp is compelled to help II_77090. She drafts a plan to start scavenging for resources instead of passively waiting for Allen's return, but the other Dolls are risk-averse and don't trust WKp and II_77090, and refuse to carry out the plan. Instead of giving up, II_77090 keeps to her ideal to make the Dolls live independently, and with WKp they draft a new plan for long-term survival, which meets with a bit more success.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmation... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: WKp
Mission Number: TASK-3■■■
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

"Mr. Allen! This is II_77090, I have an urgent report—large numbers of ELIDs have appeared 30 meters away in the four o'clock direction, estimated numbers around 40!"
"We might not have enough firepower to deal with them! Requesting permission to fall back! Report over!"
As II_77090's slightly panicked voice came over the comms terminal, I could hear the background noise of the Yellow Zone's characteristic sandstorms mixed with the sound of ELIDs on the move. I could tell that II_77090 was trying her best to stay calm.

"Where did all these ELIDs come from?! Is there a problem with our intel?"
"What's the point of worrying about that now?! Bernard, it'll be too late if we don't pull out right now!"
"We'll settle this later! Roland, retreat!"
The orders went out quickly through the comms terminal. Several of the most combat-capable Dolls swiftly gathered around Bernard Allen and Roland to ensure their safety. Meanwhile, II_77090, who had detected and reported the anomaly just now, was ordered to cover their retreat.

...Allen's orders didn't include me.
Perhaps it was because I never said a word in the team and always remained silent. Maybe that was why he couldn't sense my presence. Or perhaps he felt that I was nothing more than an extra thrown in with a big shipment and thus not worth much.
The sound of the ELIDs' footsteps grow nearer, their shrill howling a sign of imminent danger.
I should have made the first move and asked Allen about this.
If I had just spoken up, the situation that occurred during Griffin's restructuring wouldn't have happened again—
I lost my chance to stay with Griffin due to my fear of interacting with others. Fortunately, the Non-Military Forces Administration sent us a contract after that. Although its contents were dry and cold, it hinted that the Commander was safe and well. That was a great boon for our spirits, even though it meant we would be placed under many restrictions.

I shook my head vigorously. I knew it wasn't the time to be reminiscing about the past.
Even if... Even if was just an extra, losing a Doll in the Yellow Zone for no good reason was still a waste of resources. If I spoke up, there was a 90% chance Bernard would respond, and a 75% chance that I could keep my frame's damage under 30%. As long as I spoke up—
The "swish" of arrows in flight filled the air as II_77090 attacked the approaching ELIDs with her bow. I could hear her frantic voice from nearby.

"WKp, hurry and catch up with the group! I'll cover the rear!"

As she spoke, an ELID lunged at her from the eight o'clock direction. I quickly aimed and fired, but the bullet only slowed the ELID down without delivering a fatal injury. In the end, II_77090 finished it off with a single arrow.
II_77090 had a unique combat style; she's the first tactical Doll I saw who used a melee weapon, but she was just as formidable as Dolls using firearms. In fact, I could tell that her combat experience was on par with the original Griffin Dolls, especially when it came to maneuver battles.
Whenever danger struck, II_77090 had always been able to guide the Dolls to safety. Unlike tactical Dolls, who favored facing their foes head-on, she seemed particularly adept at "survival". However, that didn't mean she avoided fighting... It's hard for me to describe that trait of hers or figure out why she became that way..
Despite that, our leader didn't seem to like II_7790, probably because she wasn't "obedient enough".

I wanted to check on II_77090. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I was startled.
To check on II_77090 meant... it meant speaking to her.
My legs began to go weak, and my hands were as stiff as stone as they gripped my gun, .
What... what should I do? I needed to speak, communicate, and convey information accurately through conversation. I had to open my mouth to...
The transmission of information was crucial. I needed to speak now, immediately, to avoid causing further trouble for the retreat.
So, don't be afraid or nervous. Just stay calm, look at her, and say those few words. Yes, all I needed to do was activate my vocal module. WKp, you can do this. It's not hard, just gather up your courage...

"II_77090! Are, are you, are you ough-oohhh-okay?!"
I tried to get the entire sentence out in one go. Instead, I stuttered and even ended up mixing several incomprehensible sounds into it.
"I'm fine because of what you did just now. WKp, you don't seem to be in great shape. Can you still keep up with the group?"
"I... I..."
I desperately tried to say "I can," but my vocal module appeared to be malfunctioning.
Don't waste time, WKp!

Just as I was urgently exhorting myself to speak, Allen's voice came in over the terminal.
"We've retreated to a safe location, II_77090. Come back."
"Understood. Ah, WKp, watch out!"
Several arrows whizzed past, bringing down an ELID behind me. As I stood around dumbly, a smoke grenade flew my way.
"WKp, use the smoke for cover and leave quickly!"
"But, but..."
"Follow my voice, I know the way!"
With II_77090 as my guide and with the smoke providing cover, we finally managed to escape our predicament.

When II_77090 and I returned to Allen's temporary camp, both Allen and Roland looked surprised.
"Why did you bring back this extra, II_77090? I didn't order you to do that, did I?"
"Considering the situation, I determined that..."
"You determined what? Hah, did you hear that, a Doll making decisions?"
Everyone in the camp laughs.
That was the reason why II_77090 wasn't popular, despite her strength. She often did "unnecessary" things which she was not ordered to do, which usually incurred the displeasure or ridicule of Allen and his team. As one of these "unnecessary things", I had to speak up for her... Even though speaking was very challenging for me... There's no avoiding it any more, WKp!

"If... if you had... given... given..." If you had given the retreat order in time, we wouldn't have lost a Doll for nothing! You could have also reduced the damage to II_77090's frame! That would have saved the convoy some money too. Say it! Say it, WKp!
"Shut up! You're nothing but an extra, who gave you permission to speak?"
"I... I!"
My face went red with anger, but I couldn't even speak coherently when addressing others.
"Oh wait, you can't, can you? Come on, follow me, one, two, three, four, five—can't say it, can you? Hahaha!"
The people around Allen laugh again.
And I, can't say anything at all.

Then, a shadow fell over me—it was II_77090.
"Team Leader, my frame damage would have been much worse if it hadn't been for WKp. ALso, I noticed that the convoy needs help with inventory checks and logistical upkeep. WKp can help in that respect."
Standing in II_77090's shadow gave me a strange sense of security; she was protecting me in her own way.
"Hmph."
Allen said nothing more, but it looked like he accepted II_77090's reasoning. He stopped paying attention to us and turned to Roland to discuss the reasons behind this incident. II_77090 quickly pulled me away from where Allen and the others were.

"Our logistics are in your hands, WKp." II_77090 brought me to the tent where the supplies were kept and patted my shoulder.
"Thank you..."
No, I had to get it all out. I needed to thank her—but what should I do—Yes! I got it!
I pulled a paper and pen from my backpack, wrote "[Thank you.] —WKp" and showed it to her.
II_77090 looked at my paper in surprise and then she sighed while shaking her head. "I knew what you were trying to say even though you didn't finish your sentence. You don't have to be so formal..."
I immediately wrote another message:
"[I'm sorry. I know this seems strange, but apparently, these are my factory settings... I can't express my thoughts smoothly... so perhaps doing this might be more efficient.] —WKp"
"Hmm. Have you communicated with others like this before?"
"N... no... I..." For a moment, I'm at a loss for words. I never did this in the past because... back in Griffin, there was a Commander who would always listen patiently to me.
Perhaps II_77090 sensed my discomfort, because she waves my awkwardness away.

"Relax, I was just asking. Everyone has things in their past that they'd rather not talk about. It's good that you can write it all down, because at the very least, I finally know what you're thinking."
"Thanks..."
Actually, I want to tell II_77090 that she's mistaken. My experiences in Griffin aren't something that I'd rather not talk about; on the contrary, they contain some of the most precious memories in my neural logs. But when I see her accepting and cheerful smile... It feels like the moment to clarify had passed for now. I'll wait for another opportunity to tell her...
But she's right about one thing. Perhaps "writing" could become my means of communicating with others?
If only I had realized this sooner, then things wouldn't have...

Over a year ago, when Griffin was being restructured, I wanted to tell Helian that I wanted to stay, that there was no better place for me to be other than Griffin... If nothing else, Griffin was a place where I had spent many years, a place that was close to and familiar to me. It was also the only place where I might still be able to find the Commander's whereabouts.
I was fully aware that my fighting ability was far inferior to other Dolls, so I did my best to demonstrate my strengths in other areas.

For a while after that, I shut myself in my room, trying to showcase my strengths in the most direct way possible.
I didn't have many friends at Griffin, and not much word got around about what was going on. During that chaotic period, I naturally missed the changes in the external environment. Just as I managed to gather up my courage and approached Helian's office with the "New Griffin Operations Plan" and my application to stay, both of which I had been working on for nearly a month, I was informed that the window of opportunity had already closed.
In fact, I also missed the deadline to apply for the reassignment plan for the same reason. As a result, I wound up in the category of those Dolls who would have to make their own way in life.
My experience at Griffin had once provided me with opportunities, but all the companies interested in hiring me required combat performance or battlefield command skills, which were my weaknesses. The expectations and interest in me soon became rejection and disdain.
After several twists and turns, I ended up as an extra thrown into an underground broker's weapon package, joining the bounty hunter Allen's convoy as it entered the contamination zone.

I can't afford to let my inability to communicate normally make me miss out on opportunities again and force me to accept undesirable outcomes that I don't want.
I... I needed to show everyone what I could do, even if "writing" as a method of communication might seem somewhat odd and outdated. Each time I picked up my pen, I could feel the constraints holding me back gradually fade away, and my "awareness" of myself as a Doll returned. In that state, I even felt like a different person... It's as though I've become a more trustworthy Doll.
But... with my poor performance, my stumbling speech, and my label as "weak," will anyone still believe in me?

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: WKp
Mission Number: TASK-3■■■
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

"We managed to drive away the invading ELIDs this time thanks to everyone working together. You've all worked hard. Collect supplies from WKp and then rest for a bit."
Standing in front of us, II_77090 had her bow slung over her back, standing upright with a somewhat forced smile on her face.
Just moments ago, our squad of Dolls which had been stationed at the town's ruins was attacked by a large number of ELIDs. If it hadn't been for II_77090 quickly devising a battle plan and mobilizing all the Dolls to set up a defensive line, we might have been completely wiped out.

As part of the logistics team, I was responsible for counting and distributing the remaining supplies.
After the supplies were distributed, the Dolls sat down in small groups, either chatting quietly or closing their eyes to rest.
In this place, I didn't have anyone that I was familiar enough with that I could rely on them. Still, that was fine; I could choose a quiet place to read. Expanding my knowledge and seeking answers through books was my most common approach to handling any problems I encountered.
However, I had already read "How to Communicate Smoothly with Others" 22 times. It was time to stop lying to myself... The issues caused by my factory settings couldn't be resolved this way.
I sighed and looked up at the dull-yellow sky.

Today was the 10th day since Allen, Roland, and the group of Dolls whom they favored, the ones with superior combat abilities, had left our camp.
They hadn't returned and there had been no communication from them. We were left here to guard the supplies which they had left behind to reduce the load they had to carry.
The Dolls who had gone with Allen and the others to the Red Zone were responsible for ensuring their safety. Once the mission was complete, they would be the first to receive maintenance. Meanwhile, we were treated like dead weight and discarded here.
That thought sent a chill through me.

If we had truly been abandoned, what would happen next? Could we survive?
Or would we end up as scrap metal in the Yellow Zone? I heard the Commander went to the Yellow Zone after leaving Griffin. If I set out now, what would be my chances of finding them before I wound up as scrap?
No, I ought to be asking what my chances of setting out successfully would be like...
I put those thoughts away, then looked at II_77090 and the other disheartened Dolls in front of me.

Wear and tear from the environment, energy shortages, and the collective inclination of Doll neural networks...
Lost in thought, I opened the notebook which I carried everywhere and began jotting down various possible scenarios.
The sound of my pen scrawling on paper calmed me down.
It was ironic that I, a Doll, would be writing in such a traditional way, but it brought me comfort.
As I was absorbed in writing, someone suddenly tapped me on the shoulder.

"EEEEK! Who... who's there?!"
I hastily put away my notebook and jumped up.
"Oh, sorry! WKp, I just... I just wanted to talk to you about something!"
It was II_77090. She sheepishly pulled her hand back, a guilty expression on her face.
I quickly scribbled a note and held it up to show her with both hands:
[It's okay! I was just surprised! Please don't mind my reaction!] —WKp.
Three sentences with three exclamation marks ought to have made my position clear.
II_77090 scratched her head, and the awkwardness disappeared from her face.
"Do you want to sit back down?"
[Of course.] ——WKp.

II_77090 took a seat beside me and began recounting the events of the day without waiting to see if I acknowledged it. I gradually realized that she probably didn't want to discuss anything in particular with me, but she just couldn't bear to see me sitting in a corner by myself.
In the past... the Commander used to do the same thing. With that thought, I decided to properly respond to her kindness.
[Allen and Roland took the Dolls to the Red Zone to gather Collapse Epiphyllums, but it's been ten days. Do you think they'll come back?] —WKp.
II_77090 looked surprised, staring at the paper for a moment.
"I think they will. They left a lot of Dolls and supplies here; they make up quite a chunk of assets, even for them."
There was a hint of self-deprecation and a touch of consoling mirth in her voice.
I nodded and wrote another note.
[They say that some people in the White Zone like the more unique-looking Collapse Epiphyllums. These people turn them into specimens for their collections. Is humanity always so strange?] —WKp.
II_77090 chuckled.
"Some of them are. Come to think of it, shouldn't you know more about humans than I do? Your... I don't know exactly who it is, but I know you're always writing letters to someone—they're probably a human, right? After all, Dolls probably wouldn't have a habit of writing to each other."
I widened my eyes, surprised at II_77090.
"Want to know how I found out?" II_77090 smiled again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. But you're so focused when you write that you don't even notice when I get close. I didn't want to interrupt you, so I stayed quiet."

I wanted to tell her it was alright and that I should have been more aware of my surroundings. Besides, writing to the Commander wasn't something that needed to be hidden. Perhaps now is the time to seize the opportunity for a conversation and tell her everything about Griffin and the Commander.
But before I had a chance to write, II_77090 distracted me with a slightly absent-minded comment.
"Still, I advise you to keep some caution around humans."
"I don't... I don't need to..." I understood that II_77090 didn’t mean any harm, but I still needed to say what I felt.
Upon noticing my reaction, II_77090 looked surprised. Then she turned to me with a serious expression on her face.
"I'm sorry! I spoke too soon!" Her apology was sincere. "I'm a terrible person for judging your friend harshly based on my past experiences. Please forgive me!"
II_77090's voice was quite loud, and it drew the attention of the nearby Dolls.

""You're... you're too loud..."" I felt very uncomfortable being watched by so many Dolls.
[I forgive you. Just don't say things like that again.] —WKp.
"Okay, I won't." II_77090 nodded readily. "'The Commander', that's what you call that person, right? I guess they must be a very important human to you?"
I gripped my pen tightly and slowly wrote on the paper after a few seconds.
[Very, very important.] —WKp.
"Can you tell me about your relationship with them?" II_77090 asked me.

I nodded vigorously and began to write. Although it had been some time since I left Griffin, life there and everything about the Commander still felt very familiar to me.
During our conversation, II_77090 occasionally asked questions, and her expression gradually shifted from kindly to a mix between envy and dejection,
"So, now you're unable to follow that Commander due to a... uh, Non-Military Forces Administration agreement, and instead, you're writing letters that can't be sent?"
I nodded and sighed helplessly.
"But at least, in your world, that Commander is trustworthy and someone you can rely on. That's better than what many Dolls have..."
II_77090 seemed to be acting strangely... Should I ask her about it?
"Thank you for telling me all this."
She closed off the topic and leaned against the wall behind her, causing me to miss another chance to talk.

We sat in silence, feeling the wind of the contamination zone.
On a whim, I tore out the pages covered with writing, folded them into neat and proper paper airplanes, then brought them to my lips and cast them forward with a puff of breath.
Dolls don’t have flesh and blood, so blowing on the paper didn’t make it damp or warm up the planes. I did it purely because it felt right that way.
The paper planes flew into the distance, travelling in a parabolic arc until they disappeared from sight.
As the paper planes took wing, II_77090 slowly rose to her feet, gazing at the direction where they had landed. She seemed to have emerged from her shell of emotions that could not be put into words, and with a carefree smile, she turned to me and said, "WKp, you're amazing. Could you teach me how to do that?"
I silently nodded and tore out more pages, putting my hands on hers as I walked her through the folding process.
...I wondered how long this kind of life would continue.

A few days later, I realized that my earlier guess had come true, and in the worst possible way.
ELIDs were the true masters of the Yellow Zone. Dolls and humans came and went, but the ELIDs remained constant. Our supplies dwindled with each successive attack, with no means of replenishment.

Our supplies diminished with each passing day.
Dolls required power. Allen and his team had taken all the generators. Since we were stuck defending our position in the ruins, what awaited us once we ran out of power would be...

I followed my routine and speculated about what would happen next:
At first, everyone would follow Allen's orders to safeguard the leftover supplies.
Then, as power became scarce, everyone would have to use power cells to keep themselves operational.
At the same time, our ammunition would gradually deplete.
We would have two weeks at the most before our supplies would be entirely exhausted, and we would be forced to shut down.
If Allen and his team didn't return, our chances of restarting would be almost nonexistent. We would cease to exist.
...I had to do something!

But when I stood before II_77090, seeing her face covered in dust from continuous combat, The words stuck in my throat.
Was it right to just inform her of the crisis without offering any solution?

In the end, when she mustered the strength to look at me, I diverted the conversation for the time being.
[I recently found a new way to fold paper airplanes that makes them fly farther. Are you interested in learning how?] —WKp.
Her strained smile couldn't conceal her exhaustion, but her tone remained upbeat. "Of course I am. Once all this trouble is sorted out, I'll definitely ask you to teach me."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 3

Neural Link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: WKp
Mission Number: TASK-3■■■
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

I had to do something that would make concrete progress.
Two Dolls volunteered to shut down in order to conserve resources, but in the end, it was Ullrid's decision.
Ullrid is II_77090's name. I learned it by accident.
That day, as usual, I went to the edge of the ruins to observe the surrounding area, only to hear a voice coming from a corner that should have been deserted. Did Dolls encounter ghosts like those in human novels?
...Impossible.
Indeed, the light and shadows in the corner revealed a flaw. Only the II_77090 can activate optical camouflage, right?
"II_77090, no—Ullrid, you need to come up with a solution; everyone is watching you!" It was her voice, but Ullrid... That was the first time I heard that name. Judging by how she said it, it must have been another name of hers.
But I didn't delve into it... Since she was hiding herself, it meant she didn't want to be disturbed. However, I was glad to learn the name "Ullrid". Names were far more meaningful than mere product codes.

The issue troubling Ullrid was still our diminishing energy reserves. To conserve energy, Ullrid was compelled to agree with putting some Dolls into sleep mode.
"It's okay, we're just going to sleep for a while. We'll wake up when Leader and the others return."
"We'll hold out until Leader comes back!"
After saying that, the Dolls slowly closed their eyes.
It was a rational decision, yet Ullrid's expression did not seem happy about it.
After the bounty hunters left, Ullrid—who had taken on the responsibility and protected everyone—became our true leader. She had agreed to the plan and felt responsible for it.

But a terrifying question lurked below Ullrid's dejection—would Allen really come back?
Ullrid must have realized this too...
"Is shutting you down really the right choice? What should I do?"
I found her in a corner again. She was deeply bothered by this, but she couldn't show it or tell any of the other Dolls. After all, she was the last hope for the Dolls who remained in the ruins.
She reminded me of the Commander... The Commander must also be silently bearing the pressure in places we don't know about.
I... should help her.

I spent several days investigating the area we were guarding and summarized the current status of our supply levels and consumption.
I needed to create a plan—a systematic summary of existing issues, a report outlining a concrete course of action. The report was difficult to write, even more so than the one I wrote to prove my worth and stay with Griffin. But I couldn't remain passive any longer... I absolutely couldn't afford to miss this chance.

I outlined the current situation facing the Dolls and concluded the proposal with...
"If we do nothing and wait for Allen's return while allowing the Dolls who haven't entered sleep mode to remain active, we might be able to hold out for about another half a month. After that, 80% of the Dolls will need to enter sleep mode, leaving 20% to handle security. In three months, the remaining 20% of the Dolls will also need to enter sleep mode due to energy depletion, and by then, we will have no more options."
"If we're lucky, we'll be buried in the sands of the Yellow Zone; if we're not, we'll become chew toys for ELIDs and be torn to pieces."

"But if we send the Dolls out to gather supplies, we would have a 47% chance of avoiding this predicament."
As I nervously slipped the proposal into Ullrid's hands, I felt my heart fill with a mix of hope and anxiety.
I ran off without waiting for her response.

The next day, Ullrid gathered the Dolls and called on everyone to go out and search for supplies together.
She read my proposal! And accepted my suggestion!
This is great! This is wonderful! We're saved! And if Ullrid leads us, everyone will believe her, right?
...However, the Dolls had conflicted looks on their faces.
"II_77090, we are Dolls; following orders is our responsibility..."
"Leader Allen told us to stay here. He will return."
"What if we encounter a large group of ELIDs outside? At least here, we have the ability to defend ourselves..."
"Yeah, even if we go outside, where do we go? How will we roster our personnel?"
"What if we go out and fail to gather enough energy, while incurring excessive damage and wear instead?"
"II_77090, this is too risky..."
...
The Dolls had many concerns, and Ullrid's smile grew strained. She couldn't answer these questions, only trying to reassure everyone and emphasize the possibilities of gathering supplies.
But once the issues were brought to light, unresolved doubts would escalate, eventually leading to widespread panic.
"Do we only have half a month left? Will we end up as scrap if Leader doesn't return...?"
"We might end up being scrapped even more quickly if we leave this place."

I tried to change the situation...
And it got worse.

I thought I managed to offer a way out, but I didn’t take the actual circumstances into account...
I had to do something... This was the best opportunity.
With that thought, I quickly wrote down responses to each concern in my notebook.
"[There might be useful supplies in the nearby ruins. With them, we can continue waiting! —WKp."
"[Based on observations over the past few days, the ELIDs aren’t active in the area, so maybe the gathering team won't encounter them!] —WKp."
...
I held up signs with these messages and ran in front of the Dolls, showing them one by one, hoping to change the situation for the better.

But I was wrong.

"You're the one who said it's a 'maybe'. Also, WKp's in charge of logistics, isn't she? You won't be in the gathering team, will you?"
"Don't say that. We're all teammates now, and WKp has done an excellent job managing our supplies." Ullrid tried to defend me, but it didn't change much for the other Dolls, who were only focused on the results.
"But the reality is that WKp only needs to stay in the ruins with the civilian Dolls. I don't think she has the right to say these things."
"Exactly, even though she's a Tactical Doll too... II_77090, you shouldn't shelter her so much, even if you get along well."
Their eyes were filled with distrust, which even extended to Ullrid... I felt deeply guilty about this.
In the convoy, I was always synonymous with uselessness. If I were them, I doubt I could trust me either.
Moreover, I hadn't provided a clearer plan or decision. Vague speculation would not be able to calm the confused Dolls.

The proposal failed.

At night, after my shift, I headed towards an abandoned shack. It was the place where I went alone most often to think and write letters to the Commander.
A paper airplane flew down from above, and I caught it.
The folding technique was distinctive. It was something only Ullrid and I would do.

I looked in the direction the paper airplane had come from. Ullrid was sitting on a distant hillside, folding paper airplanes and muttering to herself.
The dark clouds partially covered the moon, but the bowstring at her side still glistened.
I put away the paper airplane and quietly made my way to the base of the hill, silently crouching down.

"What should we do now! WKp's proposal was correct. If we don't gather supplies, we really will end up as scrap!"
"But the concerns of the other Dolls are also valid. There are too few combat-capable units here, and organizing an expedition would be extremely risky. Since the proposal was rejected, it'll be harder to succeed next time... but we can't just wait here!"
The frustrated look on Ullrid's face deepened my guilt. My immature suggestion had undermined the Dolls' trust in her.

...If only I hadn't proposed it so recklessly...

"Even though it was WKp's plan and everything she said during the day was right, no one is willing to believe her! So what if she has poor combat performance and can't speak well? Is that all a Doll amounts to? ...How can I help everyone recognize her excellence instead of judging her by human standards?"
So... she wasn't blaming me, but rather, felt sorry for me?

"If I impose my will on them now, they might comply, but that's no different from humans ordering Dolls around... Ahh~ How can I make sure every voice is heard and every decision is made based on a Dolls' own will, not just commands? Ullrid, you need to think of a solution!"
Ullrid messed up her hair in despair, murmuring something I couldn't hear.
Her seemingly simple yet fundamentally contradictory wish echoed in my mind—can Dolls act according to their own will?

Even though I was planning to apologize to her and try to console her, I took several steps back, then turned and ran.
I had to think things through.
Then... I had to help Ullrid, and through her, help myself.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: WKp
Mission Number: TASK-3■■■
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

The following days were busy. During the day, I gathered and analyzed large quantities of geographical data. In the evening, I followed Ullrid to listen to her thoughts.
...It was more like eavesdropping, and I hoped she wouldn't blame me if she found out.
I carefully recorded everything she said and analyzed it piece by piece.
Finally, that night, the paper airplane she had tossed landed in my hand.

Ullrid was envisioning a future for the Dolls in the ruins—one that didn't rely on orders but which would ensure their long-term survival.

My hands trembled as I wrote these words in my notebook.
Good heavens, what a crazy idea!
I admit that Allen's disappearance placed the remaining Dolls in a difficult situation—it was hard for them to change their ownership and prove that they had been abandoned. This could prevent them from legally seeking new positions, potentially exposing them to more accidents and dangers.
But... Ullrid wasn't focused on changing their ownership. Instead, she was trying to figure out how we could support each other and survive without depending on our owners...

Countless reasons to refute her ideas popped up in my neural cloud...
But... This might truly be the path to survival for us right now. And I had to live on until the agreement was canceled.
I wrote down countless random ideas on paper, then assessed their feasibility, crossing out the ones that didn't meet my expectations.
I spent much longer on thinking than I had expected.
Eventually, the original supply collection plan evolved into a detailed survival strategy.
I was frightened by this plan and even more concerned about whether I, as its author, still possessed the "rationality" and "stability" of a Doll."

If I lost my "rationality" and "stability," could my plan still be trusted?
But... I couldn't miss this "opportunity" again. Finally, I silently placed the plan on her backpack.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: WKp
Mission Number: TASK-3■■■
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

We remained in the ruins, waiting for Allen and the others to return.
"[Here are your power cells and ammo ration for today. Please check them!] —WKp."
I wrote those words on a signboard and held it up. The Doll in front of me nodded and took their share.
This was my daily work. At first, the Dolls found it weird, but they're used to it now.

As I picked up a power cell and handed it to the next Doll, Ullrid waved at me from a short distance away.
Shortly afterward, I received a message on my communication terminal:
WKp, let's talk! I'll be waiting for you in the third house on your left.

I felt a bit anxious, but I had been quietly waiting for days for this moment.
I quickly completed my tasks, clutched my notebook, and headed toward the place she had mentioned.

It was a very simple house, standing among the ruins and blending seamlessly with its surroundings. There was no one around. The door lock was rusty and the door was half ajar. I approached and gently pushed it open.
The door creaked as I entered, feeling uneasy. Ullrid sighed, looked down, and fiddled with her clothes. "Uh, I'm not great at this... Anyway, WKp, did you write this?"
She picked up the proposal I'd written from the wooden table and showed it to me. I strained to pull my gaze away from the doorknob and nodded.

"[I'm sorry, it's just some random, immature ideas. But I thought it might be useful to you.] ——WKp."
"What are you saying! Although I haven’t fully grasped some parts of it, I can tell that this outline aligns with some of my own ideas! And it's much more practical than my unrealistic proposals!"
"WKp, I've read it many times, but my processing capabilities can't fully analyze all of its contents. I hope you can help me understand it better! At the very least, focus on solving the energy acquisition problem!" Ullrid held the proposal in both hands. "Please, WKp! I can't just let everyone become scrap metal in the Yellow Zone!"

Ullrid's sincerity eased my nervousness and helped me suppress my urge to flee.
[Alright, but I can only offer some basic suggestions...] ——WKp.
"No! Those are not basic suggestions! Let's sit down and talk!"
Without waiting for my response, she pushed me into a chair and opened the proposal.

After that, Ullrid brought up numerous questions about the details of gathering resources and basic measures to keep the Dolls functioning in their current operational status.
She was taking this completely seriously, and my pen flew across the paper as I wrote my responses down. She did not rush me and waited patiently for each line of text.
"Hmm, that's a good idea! This way, the personnel allocation for expeditions can be resolved!"
"Would this strain our supplies? Let's see if we can make this part better."
"Joint access to Level II for a collective vote? I like that idea!"
...
Gradually, I set aside my reservations and conveyed all my thoughts to her.
Ullrid nodded frequently, appeared puzzled at times, and raised piercing doubts at others. But in the end, these issues were resolved through repeated questioning, answering, and reviewing.
While the solutions weren't perfect, we managed to reach an accord.

[If we could instill a sense of shared survival among the Dolls—that is to say, have the Dolls acknowledge the need for all of us to make it together from the depths of their base layers—then a community of Dolls is a workable proposition.] —WKp.
"A community of Dolls?" Ullrid blinked in confusion.
[Well, we need a term to refer to our group of Dolls... and using 'convoy' seems inappropriate.] ——WKp.
"You're right. Let's go with that for now. So, you think that my desire for everyone to live without relying on orders, supporting each other and treating each other equally, is feasible then, WKp?"
[I'm sorry, but I can't answer that question. This is a risky venture without any foundation, and due to the lack of simulation data, we can't even estimate our success rate. Also... for me, this is more of a plan to avoid risk and keep functioning for the time being.] ——WKp.
"Got it. You're going to look for that Commander someday, aren't you?"
[Yes, though for me, the Commander's orders aren't really commands.] —WKp.
"I understand. Let's focus on getting through this immediate crisis together! With your concrete data analysis and viable plans, everyone's perspective will surely change."

Ullrid reorganized the revised resource-gathering plan we had just discussed and sent it to each Doll’s communication terminal. Next, we accessed Level II together and started a vote in the designated channel—this was our first attempt based on Ullrid’s ideas and my practical plan.

Level II was quiet.
"We need to give everyone time to understand and consider. If nobody votes against us, then our proposal will go through. All we can do now is wait—"
"II_77090..." I hesitated for a moment before asking my question.
[Why do you want everyone to survive together like this? A typical Doll wouldn't think like this. Did... Did something happen in your past?] ——WKp.
Ullrid's jovial demeanor faded.
"I also find it... hard to understand."
In the humble room, Ullrid shared bits and pieces of her past with me—memories of continuous gunfire, repeated damage, arrows brushing past her cheek, and the final choice she made.
I finally understood why she was different from us—when she escaped that hell, her very core had changed.

"My neural cloud might have problems... I even gave myself a name, Ullrid. I've been reluctant to talk about it, since it's difficult to understand. After all, it would be hard to unite everyone and overcome the challenges ahead of us if they thought of me as a weird Doll." Ullrid scratched her head helplessly. "But instead of watching everyone go through illegal channels and ending up in places like Doll hunting grounds... I want to choose a different path. Of course, everyone has to agree on it, and I don't want to force them."
Setting aside the feasibility of her plan, Ullrid's naivety didn't align with her logical breakthrough—that was my conclusion.
Perhaps Ullrid sensed my frustration, but she looked a bit embarrassed as well.
"I know it seems contradictory... but that's just who I am. Since I can't change it, I'll just have to take things as they come! WKp, could you keep what I said a secret... just for now? But you can call me Ullrid when we're alone."
[Then in exchange... you'll also need to keep a secret for me, Ullrid...] —WKp.
"What kind of secret?"
[...Don't tell everyone that I wrote this proposal. At least not until we've overcome the crisis.] —WKp.
"But why?"

Why indeed?
...Because this was your idea, and I'm just the one who happened to overhear your thoughts and write them down. Moreover, my own weakness only makes this already "foolish" plan seem even less credible.
[Please.] ——WKp.
In the end, I only wrote that single word.

"Alright, but only for now. I'll eventually let everyone know just how amazing you are, WKp. To be honest, this is the first time someone's thoughts have matched mine so closely. It's truly amazing!"
I silently nodded as I watched Ullrid reveal her feelings.
Sometimes being a little slow is not so bad, right?

While we continued discussing other issues in the proposal, the "agree" count in the voting channel we had opened in Level II quietly changed from 0 to 1.
The night breeze blew softly, and something began to change.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Shadow in the Snow

Summary

This story is linked to Sojourners of the Glass Island Part 2.

After the Doll Community has settled in the power plant, Suomi goes on a supply recovery run. She also hopes to temporarily join a bounty hunter team and search for information about the Commander, since she has been imitating Littara and writing letter for them. Four days into her trip, she helps a Doll attacked by Crysmoles, but is overwhelmed. She's saved by a team of bounty hunters and joins them for three weeks, but is chased out because she keeps taking initiatives, following Ullrid and the Commander's example. The next team she joins similarly dismisses her due to her successful strategic improvement plans weakening the team leader's position. As she keeps being dismissed by bounty hunter teams, Suomi starts to become known as a bringer of bad luck, and nobody seems to know about the Commander.

The last team she joins has to abandon their companions because of an impending Collapse snowstorm, but Suomi refuses to run away. With her remaining energy, she raises her lantern and programs her neural cloud to erase any data about the Doll Community so they won't be found if she completely ceases functioning. Suomi's beacon is noticed by the Elmo, who pick her up and repair her.

Journal Entry 1

Neural Link confirmed... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: ████
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KP/-31
Mission Number: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

It's been four days since I left the Doll community.
Based on the map's markings, there should be many settlements nearby and plenty of bounty hunters passing through, yet in the past four days, I haven't encountered a single bounty hunter squad.
What did I say when I said goodbye to Sister Ullrid?

"Sister, you mentioned that with our current numbers, we would need more energy and ammunition. I've received so much care from everyone here. If someone needs to go out to search for supplies, please let me help...
"Huh? You want to know my plan? The plan is... after leaving here, I'll search for supplies in the ruins along the way. I also want to find a chance to join a bounty hunter squad to see if I can gather any intel about the Commander... If not, I can still take on missions to earn money. I used to operate frequently in Contamination Zones, so rest assured, Sister, I'll definitely bring back plenty of supplies!

I cherish my comrades in the Doll community.
I joined by chance and if it weren't for everyone, I might have already run out of energy and ended up as scrap metal buried under the sand.
Sister Ullrid is the leader of the Doll community... Though she really doesn't like being called that. In my eyes, she is strong, kind, resilient, and always full of goodwill towards other Dolls. Whenever I'm with her, it reminds me of my time at Griffin. Back at Griffin, I used to envy the Dolls who had close "sisters." So, with her permission, I began calling her "sister" as well.
I'm glad to have found a temporary place to stay, but after all this time, I still haven't found any trace of the Commander, which makes me anxious... So, I've started doing what Miss Littara does—writing letters to the Commander. Even if it's just for my own psychological comfort, who knows, maybe I'll run into the Commander!

Under Sister's leadership, the Doll community faced some challenges but ultimately managed to settle down at the power plant. The primary concern now is the supply reserves.
Bringing back enough supplies—this is the mission I need to complete.

...?!
What's that?
About 40 meters ahead of me, a pair of giant claws suddenly appeared, pulling someone into its burrow!
This person will die—
With vision enhancement mode activated, I detected mechanical components and artificial body fluids, confirming it was a Doll.
Distance to target: 12 meters. Estimated contact in 3 seconds. I quickly jumped and fired, successfully retrieving the body from the claws as calculated.
Okay, now to retreat quickly. The enemy's attack range is unknown, so I'll retreat as far as possible... Huh?
The ground beneath me suddenly collapses and dozens of large-clawed ELIDs burst out.
Three at 12 o'clock, two at 8 o'clock, four at 3 o'clock... There's no way to break through!
I sight the barrel at a pile of rocks and target the pressure point at the base with precision. The pile collapses and the scattered debris causes the ELIDs to briefly retreat—good, fall back! Wait, there's one more underground!

As I shielded the body, my backpack was stolen and my clothes were torn.
These are common ELIDs in Contamination Zones known as Crysmoles. They are blind but highly sensitive to heat and have a very keen sense of smell.
...Why would Crysmoles be interested in my backpack?
My spare power sources and ammunition are inside, I have to get the backpack back!

With limited ammunition, I try to avoid combat, evading while searching for the "mole thief".
Not this one... nor this one...
Found it!
I use the terrain to create a visual blind spot, avoiding attacks from other Crysmoles and take down the "mole thief" with targeted shots, recovering my backpack.
What's attracting them?
A corner of the backpack is torn and powder spills out. The Crysmoles gather around the spilled powder, greedily sucking it up. It's... the insect repellent powder my sister gave me before I left!

"Sister, what is this? My olfactory module can't identify its components."
"It's insect repellent powder made from grinding various toxic insects and poisonous plants. Although we Dolls can't be poisoned, it would still be bad if our bodies are corroded by toxins or damaged by insects. Keep it safe!"

...Insects aren't interested in it, but it seems to have attracted something even more troublesome.
Should I discard the insect repellent powder? But... it's a gift from my sister and I don't know what else I might encounter on the road. I might need this repellent powder... After thinking it over, I wrap the powder in my clothes and put it back in my backpack.

...?!
The ground beneath me suddenly shifts and a pair of gigantic claws emerge from the soil, tightly gripping my legs! How are there Crysmoles here?
I try to pull myself free. Warning! The pressure on your legs has reached the limit. It's recommended to relieve the pressure!
This isn't working... I anxiously scan my surroundings as more Crysmoles are drawn in by the scent. If I don't escape quickly, my body will be torn to shreds!
So...

"Move aside!"
I receive communications from an open-channel and reflexively follow the command, rolling to the side along the Crysmole's leverage point and cover myself. A grenade falls from above, blowing the Crysmoles to pieces. Then a barrage of heavy-caliber bullets sweeps through, wiping out the remaining Crysmoles.
The explosion comes too suddenly; both the body and I are within the blast radius. As the smoke clears, the body is left in tatters and my own damage level has risen to 39%...

A jeep approaches from the distance, covered in flashy graffiti and marked with the B.R.I.E.F. insignia. Great, they're bounty hunters!
The leader jumps out of the jeep, approaches the damaged body and bends down to examine it closely.
"Tch, already wrecked in such a short time," she says, kicking the body with a disdainful look. "Check if there's anything worth taking; if not, let's leave." Then her gaze shifts to me and I immediately tense up. What should I say... First, express my thanks... then... ask if there's any information about the Commander and see if I can join their team...
...Huh? Why are they leaving? Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 2

Neural Link confirmed... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: ████
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KP/-31
Mission Number: TASK-1130
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

It's been 19 days since I joined the squad. There's no information about the Commander here either. I plan to take on a few more missions, earn enough money, and then search elsewhere.
The squad is resupplying and resting at a residential area in the Yellow Zone. That night, someone from the team approached me.
"Hey, the captain wants to see you, over there by the short building."
"What's it about?"
"Money, maybe? I don't know. I'm going to the tent to get some rest. I don't have time to chat—go hurry over there."
"Alright, thank you."
Money... at this hour?

The captain gave me a few crystal strips, but the quantity was less than I expected. According to the agreement we had, it should be between seven and nine strips, but I only received four.
Miss Littara advised me to raise any issues carefully and with attention to the context. I chose my words carefully and asked, "Captain, could you explain why the payment is less than what we agreed upon?"
The captain stared at me for a few seconds and raised an eyebrow.
"Suomi, you should know that if it hadn't been for that unexpected Collapse storm, we wouldn't have let you join us."
"Yes, Captain."
"When you joined the squad, what did you say? I will fully assist the squad in completing its missions. Look at how you've performed.”
"My mission completion rate is 89%, and you set the benchmark at 85%. I believe..."
"Stop, stop," the captain sighed. "Do you remember the second mission you did?"
"TASK-2310. The mission was to deliver equipment from an abandoned industrial facility for a client. My specific task was to negotiate with the client who demanded a 12% discount."
"Tsk, we expected that sending you to negotiate with the client would get us a far better deal. But look at what happened. The job we were supposed to get ended up going to someone else."
"But... based on the calculations for manpower, transportation, ammunition costs, and the risk level of the mission, the client's request for a 12% discount was unreasonable, so I had to refuse it."
"So in the end, you failed your mission, isn't that correct?"
"Yes..."
"For the fourth mission, you were supposed to buy us all a barrel of alcohol to celebrate. Tell me, what did you end up buying? Sea-buckthorn juice?!"
"I believe that only healthy individuals can complete more missions and that low-quality alcohol is harmful to health, potentially causing..."
"Don't just give me your theoreticals! These are things you've done, right? Suomi?"
"Yes."
"You might not quite understand... damn, what's the word... versatility? Yes! Adaptability!"
"I understand the term 'adaptability' as making non-essential adjustments to rules when dealing with situations."
"Then do you know what a 'non-obligation' means?"
"..."

I don't know. As a Doll, I'm used to following established rules to ensure everything runs efficiently.
"Captain, I'm not sure I understand... Are you saying... I need to improve my understanding of the concept of adaptability?"
"Never mind." The captain waved his hand dismissively. "Let me be upfront—I want you to leave the squad."
I stood there, unsure of how to react.

Boom—
"We're under attack! It's the Varjagers!"
"Damn it... Let's take care of those Varjager dogs!" The captain immediately stood up, grabbed his gun, spat, and stormed out of the room. "Suomi! Load the cargo onto the truck! Hurry up!"
"Yes!"
Due to the sudden attack by the Varjager, the conversation with the captain had to be put on hold.
I ran out of the house and flames surrounded me. The explosion just happened in the direction of... the tents where people were sleeping!
Vision enhancement mode activated—confirmed, the human who called me to find the captain is trapped under the collapsed tent, with one leg impaled by a metal frame and unable to move. The waterproof tarp above him was on fire and would soon collapse completely!
The Varjager's vehicles were closing in and the other members were too occupied to assist. I was the only one close enough!
The cargo the captain asked me to transport was a batch of protective suits. Even if they were stolen, the loss wouldn't be significant. But that human would never survive if I don't save him.

What would Sister do in this situation?
"Act decisively!"
I made a quick decision. Saving lives comes first!

An hour later, the Varjagers were repelled. After completing the inventory check, the captain announced that the squad had lost 12% of its cargo.
"Damn Varjagers!" The captain looked at me with irritation and said, "You're a Doll—follow orders! You just don't understand that, do you?"
"...I'm sorry." All I could do was apologize. If it were Sister, she would have found a way to either minimize the losses or to protect the cargo while saving that person...
"Sorry? What good is sorry! Can it get me my cargo back? Listen, I don't need disobedient Dolls here. Get out of here immediately!

Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 3

Neural Link confirmed... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: ████
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KP/-31
Mission Number: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"What's this for? Oh... it enhances combat capabilities..."
"Yes, Captain. It allows us to complete more missions within the same time frame," I carefully added, "and increases our earnings by 22% over the same period."
Increasing efficiency will also enable me to complete my mission more quickly.
"Oh? A lot more? We should definitely do this, right everyone?"
The others in the tent did not respond and some even hissed. As far as I know, such sounds usually indicates disapproval.
"The next phase of the training plan has been synchronized to everyone's communication devices. If you have any suggestions, please let me know directly. That's also why I asked the Captain to bring everyone together..."

I joined a new bounty hunter squad, but unfortunately, I still haven't found any trace of the Commander. Commander, where are you...
The search seems endless, but fortunately, after showcasing my combat abilities, the squad members have become much more accommodating towards me. I hope they share more of the earnings with me so that once I save enough, I can move on to the next place.

Even though I understand I won't be staying long, it's still hard for me to ignore the issues within the squad.
Issues like poor planning of routes, inadequate resource distribution regulations, inflexible tactics during operations, and attacking strategies filled to the brim with inefficacy... There was even an incident where three members were injured during a mission.
To address these issues, I created a training plan that was implemented for a while with the Captain's tacit approval and it yielded good results. However, the squad members were still complaining and just now, they brought their grievances to the Captain once again.
After the commotion, I, the creator of that training plan, was left behind.

"Suomi, this is making things difficult for me..."
"Captain, did I miss something while drafting the plan?"
"Well... it's not about this particular plan. I thought they could hold out for another two days and earn a bit more money, but looking at your plan... I can see why."
The Captain lit a cigarette and smoke slowly wafted out of his nostrils. I wanted to tell the captain that smoking is harmful to one's health, but Sister once said that humans sometimes do things they know are bad for them.
"In our squad, we all know each other well, having been through life and death in the contamination zones for years... you understand that, right?"
"Yes?"
"The training has indeed shown some results, so I've been turning a blind eye to the complaints they've been coming to me with for a month. But in today's day and age... in the contamination zones, winning big isn't just about skill," the Captain blew out a smoke ring and pointed to it, "this is what matters more."
"A smoke ring?"
"Huh?! I'm talking about connections!"
"But Captain, I believe if the squad becomes stronger, our chances of survival in the contamination zones will improve and we'll also be able to earn more money. Having a higher survival rate might also improve our relationships, right?"
"Here we go again, 'I believe'? Suomi, where do you put me, the Captain?"
"Captain, that's not what I meant!"
"You've seen it—everyone has issues with you and as the Captain, I can't just ignore that." The Captain tossed the cigarette butt on the ground, stomped on it, and ground it under the twisting motion of his foot.
"Captain..."
I suddenly understood—he meant that I should leave.
"Captain, I understand. I'll leave on my own. Please settle my payment as agreed."
What will the next squad be like? How many crystal strips can I save? More importantly, will I be able to find any clues about the Commander?

Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 4

Neural Link confirmed... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: ████
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KP/-31
Mission Number: TASK-1247
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

Nobody's here.
I waited from 19:03 to 21:03, but I was unable to bring back the missing member of the convoy. The convoy did not wait for me either.
It was understandable, after all... the area had just experienced a Collapse snowstorm and the Collapse radiation levels must have been very high. Survival comes first; the very first rule of the contamination zone.
Should I continue waiting?
The snow had long since buried my lower legs. My body functions continued to decline and my energy reserves were dwindling—I had to leave.
But I didn't understand how things had come to this.

Four hours ago, on the edge of the Yellow Zone.
We were close to the Red Zone and snowfall wasn't far off. Two of my teammates grew anxious; they donned their protective suits and started the jeep, ready to retreat at any moment.
"Hurry up and finish this job. Our squad will have been registered with B.R.I.E.F. for a month and I'm done with these low-paying, hassle-filled missions."
"But there are still some who haven't come back yet." I couldn't help but speak up. They seemed to ignore what I said and continued discussing which direction to head.

After leaving the previous squad, I met several bounty hunter teams, but they reacted strangely after assessing me and immediately refused to let me join. This was the only squad that had agreed to accept me.
I also wanted to increase the level of missions our squad could take on so we could earn enough money faster. But... given the current situation—danger approaching and companions missing—what would the Commander or Sister do?
"I won't abandon any of my companions." Sister had said at the time.
And the Commander would definitely not abandon anyone either.

"Aren't you going to look for them?" I repeated my question. They exchanged glances, as if reaching a consensus, and their tone grew impatient.
"This is a Collapse snowstorm. Do you see the Epiphyllum on the detector? It's in full bloom! Listen here, the top priority in the Contamination Zones is to preserve your own life. Everyone does this, understand?"
"What bad luck, why did we have to run into a Collapse snowstorm!"
"It makes me mad just thinking about it. It's all because you decided to take in this bad luck magnet!"
One of the bounty hunters pointed at me bluntly, his gaze full of disdain.
"The intel was right; she's the Doll who attracts misfortune. Anyone who gets involved with her is bound to suffer!

...A Doll who brings misfortune? Are they referring to me?

They didn't give me a chance to ask and just pushed me off the jeep.
"Since you care so much about your companion, you go and find her yourself. Hmph, if anything happens to them, it's your fault, not ours!"
How could they... The missing person was also their companion, wasn't she?
"At least give me a protective suit, otherwise..."
They glanced me up and down, and after seeing the gun on my back, they hesitated for a moment. "Alright, alright, take it."
I took the protective suit they threw to me. "After you've safely evacuated, please wait for me at coordinates TR276DF-G45XL7. Before 19:30, I'll bring the missing member back."
After thinking about it, I bowed to them.
"Please."

I found the missing member. But it was too late; the snow had already begun to fall and her body had turned cold and stiff.
Should I bury her? Should I still carry her remains and reunite with the squad?
Given my remaining energy and condition, I gave her a simple burial and went to the location as agreed upon.
But they never showed up.
...

It was now 21:23, long past the agreed time. The snow kept falling harder and after leaving the meeting point, I found an abandoned building.
Once the snowfall stopped, I could keep moving, continue searching for bounty hunter squads to join... keep asking about the Commander's whereabouts and earning crystal strips... hoping the next squad would be the Commander's... if so... even without crystal strips...
"Energy insufficient, enter low-power mode?"
"Confirme—"

In my remaining field of vision, I saw a group of ELIDs approaching. They moved quickly, with large claws...
Crysmoles again?!
"Maintain current state!" I interrupted the mode switch and hastily engaged.
Ammo remaining: 34 rounds. Body damage: 49%. The problem was energy, with less than 8% remaining. The system kept issuing warnings: in 15 minutes and 24 seconds, my body would automatically enter low-power mode!
...
There were numerous Crysmoles and despite depleting my ammunition, I still couldn't eliminate them all.
No, I couldn't be turned to scrap here! I hadn't completed the mission Sister entrusted to me! And... I still haven't found the Commander.

Commander, Commander...
The Commander's face appeared in my mind and I felt a renewed surge of strength. I tried to stand up, but my legs were severely damaged, causing an 11% delay in response. I dragged myself, using both my hands and feet, to a relatively concealed ruin and hid there.
My backpack was running low on supplies. What else could I use... insect repellent powder?
Insect repellent powder... that's right, they were interested in this!
I ripped open the bag of insect repellent powder and threw it as far as I could. The Crysmoles were indeed drawn to it.

The system kept issuing warnings. I programmed a command so that when my body ceased to function completely, the system would automatically erase all information about Sister and the Doll community from my neural data. This way, even if someone else retrieves my body, Sister's location won't be revealed.

"Insufficient energy. Entering low-power mode in 1 minute."
The world grew very quiet, with only the sounds of the wind, snow, and the Crysmoles. My vision began to fade...
...
I'm sorry, Sister, even if your insect repellent powder worked perfectly, I might not be able to complete my mission and bring the supplies back...
If... even with a one-in-a-million chance, could a companion find my body? Or... would the Commander find my body?
The Contamination Zone is so vast, it's unlikely...
But... but I really, really want to see the Commander one more time... My letters haven't been delivered yet; will they, like my body, break apart in the Yellow Zone's desert and turn to dust...?
I... I don't want this, I refuse!

With my last ounce of strength, I lit the handheld lamp I was carrying and struggled to hold it up. Even though this feels like the little match girl from the story... at least in the end, let me stay innocent.

Commander, will you find me?

"Status change confirmed."
The system warnings ceased and my vision plunged into darkness.

Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 5

Neural Link confirmed... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: ████
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KP/-31
Mission Number: TASK-1247
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

"Commander... has been cleared, found..."
"Groza... be careful... we can barely..."
"Did we just... stir up a hornet's nest? Wait, that's not..."
...

Body model self-diagnostic... Complete
System self-diagnostic... Complete
Neural Cloud... link disconnected
Authorization... No key detected... Unlock failed... Unable to view ownership
Terrain DM... Activated
Cognition NSS... Activated
Body temperature... Rising... Synchronized with ambient temperature... Complete
Weapon control system... Scanning... Complete
Remaining power... 53%... Charging

"The repairs on the body are nearly complete, but a few of the joint components are not an exact match... Commander, should we assemble Suomi with generic parts to get her operational now, or wait until the correct parts are procured and installed?"
"Use the generic parts for now and replace them once the correct ones are available."
"Alright! System diagnostics complete, all modules are functioning normally. Expected start up time is 2 minutes... starting now... Strange, why is there no response? All the modules are functioning correctly. Let me check... hmm..."
"Was it a wiring issue? Like last time?"
"Commander, what are you talking about! Last time it wasn't a wiring issue! It was necessary to force-start the equipment! It was a temporary fix!"
"Okay, okay, Mayling, hurry up and check Suomi."

I... have I been saved? I... am safe now, right?
The auditory module picks up the sound of machinery running, the wind and sand hitting the windows...
There's a chattering voice constantly nagging in my ear and another... very familiar voice.
I open my eyes and look towards where the sound is coming from.
An unfamiliar human female opens her eyes wide, looking very anxious. But when she notices me looking at her, she smiles, her round eyes looking very cute.
"Startup successful! Commander, I told you it would work this time."
"Just as expected from Mayling," a figure appears in my field of vision, "Suomi, it's been a long time. How are you feeling?"
I rub my eyes.
Commander... it's the Commander! Has my wish really come true?

It's been years since I left Griffin, but every day I revisit those memories in my neural cloud. The Commander's appearance hasn't changed much; I could recognize them instantly.
"C... Commander, long time no see." A Doll shouldn't, no, can't dream, right? I'm feeling a bit dizzy, but I force myself to steady my neural cloud and greet him nervously.
"I've missed you so much." ...Can I say that? Ahh... this isn't the time for such thoughts. Is what I'm seeing truly real?

This feels too unreal. I stare blankly at the Commander's face until someone from behind him steps forward and hands me a blanket.
"Miss G...Groza?"
I instinctively reach out and the blanket lands in my hands, feeling all so incredibly soft.
She gives me a gentle smile and asks, "Are you alright, Suomi?"
I finally realize that this is all real; Dolls after all, don't dream.

"Thank you, Miss Groza."
I control the trembling of my body; my temperature has returned to normal and my limbs are now flexible... I was saved by the Commander. The Commander really found me!

Wiping away my tears, I nervously begin the self-diagnostic process. Two seconds later, my past memories appear intact in my neural records and I breathe a sigh of relief. That's a relief...

"What's wrong, Suomi?"
"N-nothing... Commander, I-I'm just... very surprised... I've missed you so much."
The person I've been thinking about day and night suddenly appeared before me, and I still feel nervous speaking, my voice trembling and choking up.
To help ease my tension, Groza gives Mayling a reassuring pat on the shoulder and says to the Commander:
"Mayling has been working overtime for so long. I'll take her to get some rest now. Commander, can you take care of Suomi?"
"No problem."
It was then that I remembered I hadn't thanked the unfamiliar girl yet.
"Um! Miss Mayling... Right? Thank you! I will... pay the repair costs!"
Eh, ah... just call me Mayling! Oh, there's no need. The Commander covered the cost of the materials; I just assisted with the repairs." Mayling lets out a huge yawn as she heads towards the door, saying, "Ah... It's good to see you're okay, Suomi. Commander, I'll head off to rest now."

Once the two of them leave, the Commander sits down beside me and gently strokes my head, just like he used to at Griffin. I feel like I'm going to cry again. Then, I suddenly remember something important.
"Commander, I-I have something for you!"
I rummage through my pockets, but find nothing. Regardless of the flashlight or any of the other small items I had on me, the most important thing is what I need to give the Commander...
"H-How could it be gone... It couldn't have fallen... back in the ruins, could it..."
"Looking for your things?"
The Commander stops my frantic searching.
"Mayling put all your personal items aside for repairs... don't worry, nothing's missing."
"D...did any letters come with them!?"
"Letters?" The Commander thinks for a moment. "Yes, they were with your handheld lamp."
I let out a sigh of relief.
"That's good... at least they're still here. Those were really hard for me to write... I'm not as skilled a writer as Littara... I mean, Miss WKp. Writing letters is quite difficult for me."
The Commander gives me a slightly teasing smile.
"Such important letters, who might they be written for? If you're so worried, should I go get them for you now?"
I quickly hold back the Commander, who is about to stand up. At least right now, I don't want to leave the Commander's side, even for a moment.
"N... No! Actually, they were written for you, Commander, so... you can read them later."
The Commander seems taken aback.
"I see... receiving a letter from Suomi feels quite fresh."
The Commander looks somewhat pleased.
"P-Please don't laugh at me..."
"But, I really want to know what's in the letters now." The Commander resettles beside me. "Why don't you tell me a little about them, Suomi?"
I nod seriously. There are so many things I want to share with you, Commander—like about Sister and the Doll community, Miss Littara who changed her imprint model, Miss Dushevnaya who lost her neural records, and all the many, many new companions and friends, and everything we've been through...
"Of course, I'm thrilled that you want to listen, Commander! But first, I'd like to hear about your experiences. How did you and Miss Groza reunite during your time as a bounty hunter in the Yellow Zone? And how did you meet Miss Mayling...?"
"My, so many questions, we won't be able to finish anytime soon."

The Commander spreads out the blanket with little rabbits on it and drapes it over me. As the Commander speaks, I gradually relax. In a daze, I blurt out:
"Commander, can I stay here and help you?"
"Help me?"
"The Commander saved me, repaired my body, charged me, resupplied ammunition, and even talked with me. So... I must do something for the Commander." I think for a moment, making up my mind, "Can I stay here? I want to help with whatever I can—I know the contract hasn't been renewed and I might not be able to stay here long-term, but—right now, I don't want to leave your side!"

The Commander's contemplation lasted so long that I thought I was going to be rejected.
"Sure, Suomi, stay for now."
—Is this real? Can someone's wishes really come true twice in such a short time?
"After all, your repair fees haven't been settled yet; you'll need to stay and work off the debt."
Seeing the Commander's smile, I feel completely relaxed. My vision blurs again. Is this all really happening?
"Don't cry, I'm joking."
The Commander lifts a corner of the blanket and uses it to wipe away my tears.
"C... Commander... I-I'm just so happy—"
No, there's something more important I need to tell the Commander.

"Sob sob—T-thank you! Sob... Thank you!"

Thank you for saving me.
Thank you for letting me stay.


Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Punctuation of Friendship

Summary

This story is linked to Dusty Memories#First Counterattack.

The Tactical Doll GSP-337 was made as part of a batch intended to assist in making bounty hunting operations more secure, but fell out of favor due to their overly cautious personalities. One day, GSP-337 becomes the only survivor of her bounty hunting team, who got wiped out by ELIDs. As she's fleeing a Collapse storm, she's picked up by the Dolls of Bernard Allen's convoy. She's initially afraid of the gruff mechanic Doll Bathilde, until the agricultural Doll Wolfiin, in charge of tending to Allen's Collapse Epihyllums, starts interceding to help Bathilde make friends with her. Wolfiin instructs Bathilde and GSP-337 to consider friendships like tending to plants.

After Allen's disappearance, Wolfiin volunteers to shut down and preserve energy, since her skills are no longer needed. The morale of the Dolls only picks up after they successfully defends against a bounty hunter attack and the Doll Community is formed, but Bathilde remains vocal about her dissatisfaction about Wolfiin shutting down and can't be restarted until the community has found a safe haven. GSP-337 starts growing distant from her due to her constant bad mood, but remembers Wolfiin's advice about caring for their friendship. Before the comunity leaves for the Marley Thermal Power Plant, GSP-337 annouces to Bathilde that she has chosen the name Lotta for herself and wants to keep being friends with her. Bathilde admits that she was letting her frustration at Wolfiin's situation get the better of her. Lotta draws symbols on her, Bathilde and Wolfiin's hands to reinforce their friendship.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ■■ Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: M1 Super90
Mission Number: TASK-0■■■
Time: Day ■■
Status: Stopped

What are those scratching sounds—rats, perhaps? Or ELIDs?
Still keeping close to the peeling walls of the underground tunnel, I warily came to a halt.
My vision modules had already adapted to the darkness, so I set my auditory module to maximum efficiency, straining to identify the sounds that were approaching me.

They were close now.
I tightened my grip around the M1 Super 90 in my hands; I didn't have many rounds left.
...Come on, GSP-337, don't be scared, be careful... only if it's absolutely necessary...
I silently tried to pump myself up.

Aiiiieeeee!
Something just ran past me!
Panicked, I stomped the ground, flattening several discarded aluminum cans. The shrill sound of crumpling metal echoed through the spacious underground chamber.

Phew... fortunately it was just a rat.
I tightened my grip on my gun once again and continued forward.
I was almost there... just a little more, and I'd be out of the Collapse storm's range.
I could feel the effect of the Collapse particles on my frame gradually decreasing, and the sound of wind echoing in the tunnel was slowly fading away.

I took a wrench from my toolkit and applied a little force to it, prying open the rusted manhole cover.
Hopefully I wouldn't run into any ELIDs...
After praying three times inside my neural cloud, I finally poked my head out of the sewer to assess the situation on the surface.

I was on an abandoned road that had been recently ravaged by a Collapse storm. There was only sand and vehicle wrecks here; nothing valuable in sight.
Fortunately, there were no hazards present either as long as I remained quiet, the few ELIDs wandering in the distance would probably follow the Collapse storm away from this area.

I leaned against a vehicle carcass and slowly slumped to the ground. On the ground, my arms trembled slightly from overexertion—this frame of mine had been running for a long time now and it was near its limit.
Since the immediate danger had passed, I started a self-diagnostic procedure.
My batteries were critically low, and various modules were reporting errors. I had to get out of here ASAP to find somewhere where I could recharge myself and perform maintenance.
However... as I looked at my unfamiliar surroundings and at the unresponsive comms terminal in my hands, I realized that I didn't even know where I was right now.

...Would I continue wandering aimlessly like this?
Hmm... Maybe I should hide for a while before continuing to run?

While I was still waffling over what to do next, the sound of an approaching jeep's engine reached my auditory module.
...But apparently, I was not the only one who heard it.
An ELID in the distance was also drawn to the sound, its stupid face turning toward its source. This is bad!
I shifted further behind the vehicle wreckage, my eyes shifting between the jeep and the ELIDs.
It'd be better to stay hidden until I could confirm their identity... If they looked like they could help me, I'd assist them with the ELIDs and then ask for assistance.

Eh?!
Before I could decide whether to help, the ELID was swiftly taken out by an arrow through the head.
Three Dolls jumped out of the jeep, with the leader carrying a compound bow. She was probably the one who shot the ELID.
The remaining two Dolls—one with a smiling face and the other with an easy-going air about her—seemed to be civilian Dolls.

They skillfully harvested the Collapse crystals from the ELID's remains and began discussing their next destination. I looked at the direction where they were pointing—hadn't I just escaped from there?
In my excitement, I bumped my head against the vehicle's body with a loud "thud".
Instantly, two guns and a bow were pointed at my hiding spot.
Why... Why does nothing ever go as planned?

In any case, I couldn't go wrong by standing up now to show my goodwill, right?
I lowered my weapon, raised both my hands, and slowly got to my feet.
"Ah, if you're heading that way... It would be better that you didn't!"
They moved to encircle me, and upon realizing I had no intention of attacking, the leading Doll lowered her bow and signalled the others to lower their weapons.

"We're from the Allen convoy. I'm II_77090, and these two are Wolfin and Bathilde."
II_77090 seemed trustworthy and friendly, so I allowed myself to relax a little.
"What did you mean by your warning?"
I chose my words carefully, relating what had happened to me without revealing too much unconfirmed information.

My ID code is GSP-337. Three days ago, my bounty hunter convoy ventured into the heart of the Yellow Zone. We misjudged the number of ELIDs there and the danger level, and we were almost entirely wiped out...
Only I, the "coward", survived.

After listening to my story, II_77090 activated her communication terminal. Apparently, she was searching for something.
Next to her, the carefree-looking Doll planted her hands on her hips in irritation. Was she glaring at me? Did I say something wrong?
"She turned up out of nowhere and we don't know if she's friend or foe. Can we trust her words?"
"Bathilde, II_77090 is pulling up the environmental information for the region. Don't get mad, alright?"
"I'm not mad, I can trust her, but can Allen?"
"Yes, yes, I understand you mean well, but look—you've frightened the poor thing."
"Oh—"
"Sorry, Bathilde's just a little hot-tempered but she means no harm."

The smiling Doll gently calmed the irritable one down, and I nervously began to approach them.

"The signal interference from the Collapse storm hasn't cleared yet, so we can't retrieve any useful information for now."
The leader, II_77090, sighed and put away her terminal.
"Bathilde's right. We can't present unverified information like this to Allen. The target location is about thirteen kilometers away. Bathilde, Wolfin, stay here to provide support. I'll scout the target area alone."
"What? Alone? Forget it, it's not my place to worry about you. If there's trouble, just run—don't try to be a hero."

But... there are so many ELIDs there. Neither humans nor Dolls could survive!
I opened my mouth but I couldn't make a sound.

My bounty hunter convoy did the same thing before by ignoring potential dangers, which was why they disappeared into the sands and wind of the Yellow Zone.
But I've left that area for almost three days now. The ELIDs might have followed the Collapse storm elsewhere...
I didn't know enough... and without 100% certainty, I didn't dare express my views.

"Don't worry. If your information is accurate, I won't need to venture deep into the valley; I'll be able to survey the entire area from high ground."
The Doll's silhouette swiftly faded from view, leaving me behind with Bathilde and Wolfiin.

...That's right.
Cowards should just keep their mouths shut.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: M1 Super90
Mission Number: TASK-3■■■
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

"What are you spacing out for? Didn't I tell you to move that crate over there? Why are you dilly-dallying..."
Bathilde suddenly shoved her face into mine, her trademark thick eyebrows raised in annoyance, and the cowlick on her forehead seemed to bob in anger.
She... she really dislikes me, doesn't she?

"I'm... I'm sorry!"
I instinctively cringed away and took a step back, drawing away from her.

—This was my tenth day with the convoy.

Ten days ago, II_77090, Bathilde, and Wolfin left the convoy to scout and came across me fleeing in a miserable state.
II_77090 scouted the region ahead based on the information I provided and she found a large horde of ELIDs, as expected.
As part of the process of reporting their findings to Allen, they brought me back to the convoy with them. After discovering that I was a tactical Doll, Allen agreed to provide me with energy and frame repairs, on the condition that I joined his convoy.

Seeing that I had no other place to go, Wolfin also suggested that I accepted.
Given how close we were to the Red Zone, the chances of finding another bounty hunter convoy willing to take me in were very low, so I silently nodded.
Although my pay was low and I had to cover the costs of recharging and repairs out of my own pocket, being able to stay and be useful was already quite good for a Doll like me.

"Bathilde's very straightforward; don't take it too personally."
Wolfin stood in the cargo hold of the transport vehicle and took the supply crate from me.
"N... not really... I just..."
"Just what?"
Wolfin smiled merrily at me.
My neural cloud was in turmoil. How could I tell Wolfin that I think Bathilde might dislike me?
But that was just an assumption. I had no concrete data to back it up, and Bathilde didn't explicitly say anything along those lines. Was it right to assume someone's likes and dislikes from their expression and tone alone?

Clang— Someone slammed a crate down in front of Wolfin. It was Bathilde.
"If you've got something on your mind, then say it. How is anyone supposed to know what you're thinking when you bottle up everything inside?
"I-I'll keep moving crates!"
Force of habit drove me to run from the problem.
"Huh? GSP-337! Bathilde, you scared her away..."
"What? Is it my fault now?"

I really hated this kind of personality preset of mine...

The bounty hunter who acquired me from an underground broker said that my batch of Dolls used outdated technology and was originally intended to be discarded. Some brokers bought us at a low price because their clients, mostly bounty hunters, needed Dolls that could protect their users to the greatest possible extent—namely, those bounty hunters. Consequently, our factory personality settings were uniformly set to "cautious".
At first, I went out of my way to gather and analyze intelligence, then suggested the safest and most sensible plans. That allowed the bounty hunter convoy I was with to survive in the contamination zone.
However... somewhere along the way, following my plans began to mean missing out on the best opportunities, which led to poor profits for my convoy.
This made us the target of plundering and mockery from other convoys.
Later, nobody listened to my opinions anymore.
It must have been... because my thinking was wrong.

Once the crates were loaded, Bathilde, Wolfin, and I took the transport vehicle back to the convoy.
On the way back, I deliberately avoided sitting next to Bathilde. I figured... she probably wouldn't want to be too close to me either.
Would it always be like this?

However, a few days later, Wolfin took the initiative to seek me out, saying she had a favor to ask.
She led me to the last vehicle in the convoy and had an air of mystery as she opened the cargo door.
The cargo area wasn't very large. It was densely packed, with several rows of shelves stacked at varying heights. On the top shelf, there were glowing plants in special glass containers.
"Are those Collapse Epiphyllums?"
Exactly... Aside from battling ELIDs and taking on missions, our convoy's primary business is searching for Collapse Epiphyllums. That's why I, as a non-combat agricultural Doll, was brought into the convoy."
Wolfin proudly showed me the makeshift cultivation setup in the vehicle. All these... Bathilde and her had worked on these modifications together.
As I saw her hold up three small shovels, I was about to ask how I could assist when someone bustled in like a storm.

"Is that crappy water valve broken again? ...Ugh, why is someone here?"
Upon seeing me, Bathilde's eyebrows furrowed again, and I awkwardly clutched the fabric of my clothing. Wolfin hadn't mentioned bringing anyone else in!
Could I still make a run for it?

"Bathilde, the equipment isn't damaged. I asked you and GSP-337 to come here to help take care of the plants! Come on, say hello."
Wolfin grabbed my shoulders and pushed me forward, forcing me to face Bathilde directly.
"Um, uh, hi, er, hello! Bathilde..."
"It's just taking care of plants, why do you even need two people to help you..."
Bathilde grumbled, but in the end she took one of the small shovels from Wolfin without protest.
I fought back the urge to run away and took another shovel from Wolfin.

"GSP-337 reminds me of the mimosa plant. Whenever someone gets close, she immediately curls up."
"W-wait, a mimosa?"
"It's a perennial herb. When touched, shaken, or heated, its leaves close up and its petioles droops, as if it's shy..."
Wolfin winked at me. "Don't you think it's as sensitive and delicate as you?"
"Ah... um..."
How should I respond? I... I have no idea!

"Alright, stop talking about plants as though you've actually seen them."
"Ehhhh...? You're so cold, Bathilde. Even if I haven't seen them in person, I've seen them in pictures and videos! And mimosas bloom with lovely pink flowers!"
"Yes, yes, just send her some pictures later. I've got a ton of broken machines to fix after this, so hurry it up."
Bathilde's interruption saved me from my awkwardness, and the two of them headed toward the machines.
Relieved, I followed closely behind.

"The bottom plant incubator contains soil and water that have been treated to slightly lower Collapse radiation levels. It's primarily used to test whether we can grow normal crops. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to grow anything yet... As expected, cultivating in environments with radiation levels over 1 is still too difficult."
Wolfin turned the soil in front of her. All I saw were some withered, lifeless seeds, like she said.

"But I haven't given up yet!"
Wolfin takes a little bag that's obviously very dear to her and pours out a few seeds of various shapes and sizes into our hands.
"Again?" Bathilde groaned, rolling her eyes.
"These were reeeeally hard to come by, you know? Allen only cares about his Collapse Epiphyllums, so I had to secretly collect these substandard seeds discarded by others during missions. Let's plant them today—our goal is for them to sprout!"

"Ah... is it really okay for me to plant such precious seeds?"
I nervously asked her as I held those hard-won seeds.
"Oh, it's not THAT bad. Seeds are small but very resilient! As long as they have healthy soil, clean water, unpolluted air, and a suitable temperature, they can take root and sprout. They could grow into grass, flowers, or even towering trees! Although the environment isn't too friendly right now... with the right adjustments, I believe we'll be able to grow them someday!"

I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation as I looked at the tiny seeds and heard Wolfin's spiel.
"But..." I carefully considered my words, unsure if I should share my thoughts. What if my comments dampened everyone's spirits or revealed my ignorance?

"Ahhhhhh, just say what you want. Listening to you is driving me crazy!"
"Bathilde may sound mean, but she's actually pretty nice. Let me tell you, last time someone said you were a coward, she stood up for you. I saw it all!"
"Eh?"
"I was just angry because the way she looked so unwanted reminded me of how I used to be!"
"Oh? Did I misunderstand? I thought you wanted to be friends with GSP-337, so I invited both of you here."

Wait... friends?
I was taken aback for a moment. In my previous bounty hunter convoy, my preset personality had led to me being mocked as timid and cowardly. I had gotten used to it and never thought to try and argue against it, since... well, it was true.
But Bathilde, a Doll who only knew me for less than half a month, actually stood up for me?

"Alright, no more messing around..." Wolfin went back to her usual demeanor after laughing. "Actually, relationships between people are just like plants. They need proper care to flourish and bear fruit!"
Wolfin looked at me with warmth in her eyes.
"GSP-337, do you dislike Bathilde?"
"No, I don't!"

This time, I answered quickly, because I didn't want Bathilde to misunderstand me.
Even though Bathilde always seemed to get angry every time she saw me, she still helped me complete unfinished missions and came to my aid when bounty hunters give me trouble. I noticed all of that...

"As if you would dare... Then why do you keep avoiding me?" Bathilde dug listlessly into the soil as she grumbled at me.
"I-I thought you disliked me, so..."
"You though I disliked you? With which ear did you hear me say that?"
"I, I'm sorry!"
"Bathilde! Why are you being mean to GSP-337 again!"
"Ahh, I'm not! You two are in on this together, aren't you!"

As I watched the bickering pair in front of me, it felt as though my vision modules were fogging up.
Could a Doll like me have friends too?

I really hope the seeds we planted today will sprout soon.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: M1 Super90
Mission Number: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

After that day, Wolfin sent me many beautiful pictures of plants, especially of the mimosa.
They had tiny green leaves and soft pink flowers—truly adorable.
I created a new folder and saved all these pictures into it.
I wonder if any of the seeds we planted that day were mimosa seeds?

Gradually, Bathilde, Wolfiin, and I became friends.
The three of us often worked together, carried out missions, tended to the plants, and occasionally, I would help Bathilde with mechanical repairs.
Time seemed to fly by, and this kind of life was something I never even dared to imagine. If there was anything I would complain about...

"GSP-337, were you about to say something just now? Don't make me go over there!"
"I, I don't have enough information, I'm not prepared yet... ack!"
Realizing I had said something I shouldn't have, I quickly covered my mouth.
"Oh... Wolfin, you heard that too, right? She said something forbidden. Come on, stick your head out!"
"(Wince)... Please be gentle with me..."

Thwap-
Bathilde's finger flicked my forehead.
To correct my habit of avoiding direct statements, Bathilde and I agreed that whenever I said "insufficient information" or "not ready", I would receive a forehead flick from her.
So far, I've been flicked 37 times.
Even a steel-bodied Doll would malfunction after being hit that frequently, right?

"GSP-337, this is a critical time. If you know anything, you should share it with us."
"I... when I was helping WKp check supplies yesterday, I heard that we have very few spare parts left for frame maintenance and that we needed to plan our energy usage carefully. So I'm a bit worried..."
"Actually, last night I also shut down most of the plant cultivation equipment, leaving only the essential systems running." Wolfin hesitated, "Yesterday afternoon, the Doll who was helping me transport the equipment suddenly broke down. After we took her to Rosalyne, we found out she had been running on low power to save electricity and hadn't been charging regularly..."
"Oh, that's nothing. When I was inspecting the jeep, some people suggested rotating sleep cycles and leaving some tactical Dolls on guard to help us hold out until Allen returns. They want to sleep in a place like the Yellow Zone? That's ridiculous!"

Nine days ago, Allen took some tactical Dolls to the Red Zone to search for Collapse Epiphyllums, leaving us here to guard the supplies.
Normally, they would have returned within a week, but this time... there's been no word after nine whole days.
They took the generator along with a large amount of weapons and ammunition, leaving us with insufficient energy to hold out for very long.
Lately, WKp was taking stock of supplies, and II_77090 started exploring the surrounding area.

What if Allen doesn't come back... what will we Dolls do?
Well, if it came to the worst case and Allen went missing, we'll each have to find our own way. We could join another convoy then.
Bathilde didn't seem too concerned about the situation. She kicked a stone out of boredom, and my gaze followed it as it sailed into a distant cluster of buildings.
It was a settlement that seemed to have been abandoned recently, and it was still marked on our map.

"How about... we check it out? Even though it's abandoned, we might find something useful... Is that okay?"
I gathered up my courage and put forward my suggestion.
Bathilde and Wolfin nodded in agreement without much hesitation, and soon we set off toward the abandoned settlement. As expected, there were items left behind from a hasty evacuation.

"These batteries will give us enough power for several more days. And look, there are seeds too!"
"There's a bunch of mechanical parts here—just what we need to fix that old jeep."
Seeing the two of them sorting through the debris put me at ease. Their encouragement and support gave me the confidence to slowly share my thoughts.
Excited, Wolfin picked up a box of energy and carried it outside to the jeep. However, after just a few steps, she was confronted by the dark muzzle of a gun.
Wait, there were others here?!

I dropped the supplies I was holding, immediately raised my gun, then cautiously moved toward Bathilde's position.
"Who are you guys? Don't you understand the concept of first-come, first-serve?"
Bathilde reacted a bit slower than I did. Lacking a weapon, she quickly grabbed a wrench.
Two other guns were aimed at me and Bathilde.

"Drop what you're holding."
The Doll holding the gun to Wolfin had a cold and emotionless demeanor. Her voice was stiff and mechanical, and her equipment and weapons appeared to be of higher quality than ours.
I quickly assessed the situation.
There were four enemies: three Dolls, and at least two of them were tactical Dolls.
A fully armed human woman stood in a safe zone about 20 meters away from us. Judging by her attire, she appeared to be a bounty hunter.

Bathilde looked like she was about to put up a fight. I held her back, and made an effort to stay calm.
"We are Dolls from Bernard Allen's convoy, a B.R.I.E.F. registered bounty hunter. We are currently on a supply retrieval mission, and our convoy is within three kilometers."
"So you have an employer, huh..." The woman's voice came through the speaker, clearly tinged with disappointment.
"You have three minutes to abandon your mission and leave this place."
"You think we'll give up just because you tell us to?! Who the hell do you think you are!"
Bathilde stepped forward angrily. With a "bang," a bullet hit the ground near her feet, causing Wolfin to stumble from the gun barrel pressed against her.

"You won't benefit from making an enemy of Allen's convoy!" I tried to keep calm, but my neural cloud was in chaos.
What should we do? What should we do? Should we have never come here? Why did I suggest this... If it came to a fight, will I be able to protect them both...?
"You're right, but if you don't behave, destroying the three of you won't be much trouble. There are rules among bounty hunters that your employer understands—first come, first served." I secretly sighed in relief as I heard her words.
"I understand... let Wolfin come over first."
They let Wolfin go. She ran over with her head down. I signaled for them to stay behind me, and we slowly moved out of the area.

On the way back, the atmosphere was heavy.
"What do you mean first come, first served? We were there first! It's just because they outnumbered us and they had tactical Dolls! Who would be afraid of them if Allen hadn't gone missing!"
Bathilde angrily kicked the front seat of the vehicle. Although she was clearly unhappy with the outcome, she still seemed to be in good spirits.
On the other hand, Wolfin, who was usually so calm and stable, made me feel a subtle sense of unease.
I glanced at her discreetly. Normally, she would smile and reassure us, but now she was silent, with her lips pressed together.

Several days passed, but Allen still hadn't returned.
Our remaining energy was limited, so it had to be prioritized for the tactical Dolls who could protect everyone. Two civilian Dolls volunteered to enter sleep mode.
II_77090 was opposed to this, but under pressure, she eventually announced the first batch of Dolls scheduled for sleep via Level II, which included... Wolfin.
It was my turn to keep watch with Wolfin when we received the news. Surprisingly, I was calmer than I had anticipated when I heard this.

"Wolfin! You knew about this all along, didn't you!"
In stark contrast to my silence, Bathilde ran over to confront Wolfin as soon as she learned about the situation.
"Bathilde, I volunteered for sleep. Look, I'm an agricultural Doll. If there's no need to cultivate Collapse Epiphyllums, I'm not much use while awake."
"But you should have discussed it with us! I'll go talk to II_77090! This energy-saving plan is a crappy idea!"
Bathilde left angrily without listening to Wolfin's explanation.

"... Actually, I've thought about it for a long time."
The moonlight was bright tonight, but Wolfin's expression was unreadable.
"For example, in the recent exploration mission, if a tactical Doll had accompanied you instead of me, we might not have had to surrender those energy supplies, right? Ah, I'm so useless. When danger comes, I can't do anything."
"That's not true. It was just the situation at the time; it's not your fault..."
"Aw, let me finish. Unlike you and Bathilde, the skills I possess are currently useless. If I'm not growing Collapse Epiphyllums, I'm just like those cultivation units, consuming power while doing nothing.
"No! You're not like those machines!"
"Ah..."
Wolfin stared at me, and then she smiled.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you..."
"You've made progress, GSP-337. Keep speaking your mind bravely like this in the future!"

"Actually, I've discussed it with other members of the convoy. Instead of wasting precious energy, it's better to allocate it to tactical Dolls who are more capable of protecting everyone. We volunteered to do this... it has nothing to do with II_77090."
"But..."
What should I say? Should I try to dissuade her, comfort her? Or... be angry like Bathilde?

"Alright, I've made up my mind. Even though I'm just an agricultural Doll, I want to protect my friends just like you do..."
Wolfin grinned and placed the small cloth bag she always carried in my hand.
"And—when you wake me up, you'll give me back the seeds, right? I want the whole bag!"

Actually, I knew that putting some Dolls into sleep mode was the best option right now.
...We call it "sleep mode", but it actually meant "shutting down".
Apparently, softening a harsh word would help everyone accept it more easily.

This time, I didn't dare voice my true thoughts because I was afraid that they might be correct.
The cloth bag in my hand felt heavier and heavier.
I remained silent until the sun rose and Wolfin left.
...It was morning.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: M1 Super90
Mission Number: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

After Wolfin and the other civilian Dolls went into sleep mode, II_77090 urged everyone to head out and gather resources.
Although I was reluctant to admit it, the situation was indeed becoming as severe as I had anticipated.
Apaprently Bathilde had a loud argument with II_77090, but she still couldn't stop the Dolls from going into sleep mode.
Lately, apart from getting more and more irritable, she occasionally sneaked over to the warehouse where Wolfin's frame was to vent her displeasure to her.
I had looked up a lot of information on "How to Communicate with Friends", but whenever I saw Bathilde's raised eyebrows, I instinctively backed away."
It seemed like... Wolfin had become someone we could not mention between us.

Afterward, II_77090 found a Doll. Her name was... Suomi, I think? Her circumstances were similar to how they found me.
Our friends organized expedition teams on their own, and everything appeared to be proceeding as planned until...
The bounty hunters saved by an expedition team betrayed us.

To protect our comrades and supplies, we had to take up arms against these greedy scavengers.
After a fierce battle, we barely managed to win, thanks to II_77090's leadership.
However, WKp sustained significant damage during the operation, and we only just managed to repiar her with the parts we managed to collect.
During WKp's repairs, we learned from II_77090 that the entire operation plan had been devised by WKp, and it was her sacrifice at a critical moment that allowed us to achieve victory...
I originally thought she was similar to me, that she needed the protection of friends to survive. But now... it looked like she was completely different. Without her, none of us would have survived.

During this time, we also collected some usable ammunition and supplies, including a few batteries and parts.
But those... were still far from enough to restart the sleeping civilian Dolls, including Wolfin.

Later, WKp was successfully restarted, and when she appeared with II_77090, all the Dolls cheered. Even Bathilde, who was still sulking, came over with me.
...I had always admired and looked up to II_77090.
She was decisive, resolute, friendly, and strong.
All the Dolls here sensed the air of perseverance that came from II_77090, the drive to keep going forward that radiated from her.
Without her and WKp, all of us would probably be in sleep mode by now.

I turned to look at Bathilde, who was frowning as usual. I needed to take good care of her too.

After reporting our safety on Level II, II_77090 announced our next goal—establishing a Doll community.
And also, her new name—Ullrid!

I couldn't help shouting out this name.

Dolls can give themselves names?
It's not just a code but a name—a name filled with hope for oneself and the future?
...If I had a new name, could I change too?
Thinking of this, I felt a bit excited, and even my steps became lighter.

After the celebration, Bathilde and I went back to the storage compartment to continued taking inventory of our supplies.
Although the fierce battle had consumed much ammunition and energy, the method of sending expedition teams to gather supplies proved effective, and our supply shortfalls were gradually being filled.
Bathilde was feeling down, and after thinking for a while, I tried to find a topic to lift the mood.

"Ullrid and WKp are so impressive. Maybe soon... we'll be able to wake up Wolfin and the others!"
"Are you dreaming? We have so many other things which need that energy, it's not her turn yet..."
I smiled awkwardly and thought of another topic.
"Ullrid's a great name. Bathilde, I... I also want to choose a new name for myself like II_77090. Can you help me with that..."
"II_77090, II_77090! Why do you always talk about her?"
Bathilde crossed her arms, and her furrowed brows indicated her impatience.

"Um, I don't always talk about her, right? After all... we're all friends..."
"Friends, friends... so now that you have new friends, you've forgotten about Wolfin?"
"N-no, it's not like that, Bathilde, I haven't..."
"That dork Wolfin was always thinking about everyone else but not herself! Who even remembers her now?! Just look at these power cells—" Bathilde pointed to the boxes around us and bellowed, "You think Wolfin's going to get any of this?!"
"..."

I haven't forgotten Wolfin!
But just remembering wasn't enough...
I... I wanted to make some changes. These changes might help us gather supplies more quickly, so Wolfin can be revived soon...
But after seeing Bathilde's anger, I couldn't even finish a complete sentence. My vision module started to blur, and tears began to fall.

"Hah? Haaah? Why are you crying? Wait, why can Dolls cry?! You, you, say something already! Ahhhhhhhh, I can't take it when you're like this!"
Bathilde clawed at her scalp in frustration. Her anger was like a punch hitting a pillow; it found no outlet. In the end, all she could do was storm out, slamming the already wobbly storage compartment door with a loud bang.

I hugged my knees, buried my head in my arms, and let the darkness surround me.
Wolfin... I still haven't learned how to talk with my friends yet.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural Link check... No abnormalities
Body Model function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Starting... Successful

Authentication... Permission check... Successful
Journal Entry module... Loading check... Successful

Affiliation: Bernard · Allen's Bounty Hunter Convoy
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: M1 Super90
Mission Number: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"What's wrong? GSP-337, do you recognize this coordinate?"
"No... nothing. I was just a little distracted, sorry..."
"Don't apologize. Hmm, have you and Bathilde been having any conflicts recently?"
Ullrid and WKp looked at me with concern, and I quickly waved my hands.

"Nothing serious! It's all my fault..."
"Do you need our help? ——WKp"
"Don't worry about me! Anyway... you two should focus on the migration. Once I'm done with my current tasks, I'll talk things over with Bathilde... Sorry for causing trouble!"
"There's no trouble. Let us know if anything comes up, and we'll help."
"Don't push yourself too hard ——WKp"
"Okay, thank you."

After the battle with the bounty hunters, the migration plans were mostly finalized.
From the decision to no longer be property of bounty hunters, we had a common target: to establish a group exclusively for dolls—a doll community.
Ullrid and WKp drafted several potential migration locations, and I also provided a few alternatives based on intelligence gathered during explorations.
The next step was to take everything we could carry and leave behind what we couldn't.
And those things that needed to be discarded...

Leaving the temporary command post, I unconsciously made my way to the vehicle carrying the plant cultivation device.
It was here that Bathilde and I resolved our misunderstandings and became friends.
It was also in this vehicle that Wolfiin, Bathilde, and I planted the seeds of hope together.

Allen only took weapons, ammunition, and energy supplies, leaving the plant cultivation vehicle behind.
Apart from Wolfiin, hardly anyone visited this vehicle. To conserve energy, the equipment here had long been shut down, and the upper-level Collapse Epiphyllum were nowhere to be found.
As for the normal seeds in the lower levels...
I picked up a small shovel and gently raked the soil; as expected, there were no signs of sprouting.

What did Wolfiin say back then?
"Relationships between people, just like plants, need proper care to blossom and bear fruit!"
"Is that really enough?"
"Not quite... Even with that, sometimes things still might not blossom. You need to constantly observe and care for the plants, protect them from the weather, remove pests, and there’s a lot to it..."

At the time, I didn't fully understand Wolfiin's analogy.
After all, in my core logic, the growth of plants and the building of relationships are not topics that are typically discussed together.
But if I were to view my relationships with friends as seeds, and myself as the gardener…
What could I do?

I hoped that the seed would sprout. I would water it, fertilize it, prune it regularly, and remove any pests trying to harm it.
If I chose evasion, like I did with Wolfiin...My friendship with Bathilde would wither!
No, I couldn't let it rot in the soil, letting nature take its course!
I think I know what I need to do!
Putting down the shovel, I hurried out of the vehicle.

The departure date was approaching, and during this time, I worked with other companions to take stock of the supplies and vehicles we needed to take with us. I also found a suitable new name for myself—Lotta—in Allen's collection of books.
I wanted to share my new name with Bathilde immediately! But Bathilde, who was busy with mechanical repairs, was swamped with work, and I couldn't find the right opportunity to have a proper conversation with her.
...Was Bathilde avoiding me on purpose?
I had to find a chance to talk things over with her!

But how would I explain myself?
I repeatedly thought about it, trying to clarify my logic and organize my expressions. I practiced in front of the mirror, the cabinet, and everything I could see, imagining they were Bathilde and rehearsing how to communicate with her.
Yet, I couldn't find the right moment.

During this period, the location for the migration was decided.
Unfortunately, the plant cultivation vehicle, which consumed a lot of energy, wouldn't be taken along.
After all, survival was our top priority.
Growing crops wouldn't help us survive.
...But I knew that the vehicle was important to Wolfiin.

Before the migration, I came back to the plant cultivation vehicle.
All the movable energy sources and equipment had been dismantled, and even the tires were gone.
The equipment from the lower levels had mostly been removed... Wait, is the surface of this soil different from a few days ago?

Hesitantly, I crouched down and gently lifted the surface soil with the small shovel.
There were no signs of sprouting, and I couldn't even find any seeds.
...They must have completely rotted and become part of the soil.
Even though we used treated soil and water, as Wolfiin said, growing normal plants in an environment with radiation levels above 1 is still quite challenging.

Sighing, I carefully dug out another piece of soil with planted seeds, confirmed that the seeds were still there, and placed the soil into a prepared terrarium.
The surrounding soil had also become uneven, likely because someone stepped on it during the equipment dismantling.

Holding the terrarium, I headed to where Wolfiin and the companions were in sleep.
This was one of the more intact storage compartments in the ruins. Tomorrow, the doll bodies stored here would be loaded onto transport vehicles and depart with us.
In front of the storage compartment, I spotted a familiar figure.

"B... Bathilde?!"
"GSP-337, why are you here...?!"
Bathilde was also holding a terrarium with a handful of soil. Could it be... that she was the one who took the disturbed soil from before?
I looked at Bathilde in surprise and noticed that I had a similar terrarium. She awkwardly tried to hide hers behind her back.

"Cough, what are you here for."
Bathilde's tone sounded a bit distant, and I wasn't sure how to express the words I had prepared for so long.
"I-I came to say goodbye to Wolfiin. What about you, Bathilde?"
"Oh, I'm here to prepare for the transfer. Digging this up was just an aside." Bathilde awkwardly touched her nose. "Without the vehicle and no plants left, Wolfiin would definitely complain... Although I have a feeling this one might not survive either..."
Mentioning Wolfiin seemed to ease the tension between us.
"Bathilde, have you been busy lately? I... I have something to tell you..."
"What? Oh, yeah, it's quite busy—lots of things to repair, parts to piece together, and Rosalyne keeps calling me over to help.
"T-that's right... I figured as much, I haven't been able to find you lately."
"Rosalyne is calling me again, I should go."

Feeling disheartened, I hung my head. I had resolved to have a good talk with Bathilde, but how could I hesitate before even starting?
I clenched my fists to encourage myself and grabbed Bathilde's hand before she could turn away.

"Bathilde! Give me a few more minutes; I have something very, very important to tell you."
"Hmm, does it have to be now?"
"Yes, it does!"
Seeing my determination, Bathilde turned around and waited for me to speak.

"Earlier, I told you I wanted a new name, not just a code but one that represents who I am. Now I've decided on it, and I... I want to be the first to tell you! My new name is—Lotta!"
Facing Bathilde, I blurted out everything I had rehearsed countless times.
"Lotta means 'free person'. Although I can't choose my own personality settings, with your encouragement, I've made some changes! I'll strive to protect you, just like my new name... becoming free and brave!"

I held up the terrarium and presented it to Bathilde.
"Since we can't take the cultivation vehicle with us, I dug up the seeds we planted together. They haven't sprouted yet, but one day... when we awaken Wolfiin, we will surely find a way to make them grow! I'm glad Bathilde did the same thing. I'm really happy."
"And... I'm sorry! With all these things... I should have done better and worked harder, but I chose to avoid them. All this time, I've still been a coward..."
I gripped Bathilde's sleeve and shouted at the top of my lungs…
"I want to keep being friends with Bathilde! From now on, I won't choose evasion!"

"...I..."
Oh no, Bathilde looks so serious!
I wanted to back down, but I just told her I wouldn't choose evasion!
No, the tears are coming again! No, I can't cry!
I strained to open my eyes and held back the tears.

"What's with that face?" Bathilde burst out laughing.
"Ah...?"
"Don't look at me like that, I... Bathilde turned her face away, her voice barely audible. I don't hate you, I just... feel a bit scared. After saying such harsh things to you, I didn't know how to face you."
"Bathilde... gets scared too?"
"Of course! You know my temper, I get easily agitated and stubborn. When Wolfiin was around, she would correct me, but after she was gone... I didn't know how to control myself.

Bathilde clenched her fist and then dropped it weakly.
"I know that Wolfiin's hibernation was unavoidable, but I was still very angry! Angry that I couldn't do anything! I could only watch as Wolfiin and the other companions were forcibly shut down, and I had to be responsible for putting their bodies together for storage. And you, this fool, kept apologizing to me!"
"...Eh?"
"Cough. Anyway, this time, I'll say it. I'm sorry, GSP—no, Lotta."
Bathilde winked at me and extended her hand.
"Let's start over, Lotta. I'm your and Wolfiin's friend, Bathilde."

I tightly clasped her hand.

"I… I'm Lotta! A friend of Bathilde and Wolfiin!"
Looking at our clasped hands, I could hardly believe it.
"Do we... count as making up now?"
"Of course! Best friends forever!"
"And Wolfiin too!"
"That's right, we need to find a way to quickly gather resources and wake her up! Oh, by the way, I found a book while I was out that describes some planting methods. How about we study it together?"
"Great! Then, when Wolfiin wakes up, maybe we'll see the seeds we planted sprout."
"Before that, we need to fill Wolfiin's bag to the brim!"
"Right!"

Our hands were stacked together, and before long, Wolfiin's hand would join ours.

Thinking this, I took out a pen and drew a symbol on both mine and Bathilde's palms as a testament to our agreement.
"What's this? Weird."
"It's a symbol I specifically chose... it's said to represent friendship. If Bathilde doesn't like it, I can change it..."
"No, no, it's fine. Hey, can we add one more thing to the agreement?"
"What is it?"
"Next time, if I say something wrong, make sure to point it out like Wolfiin would, and don't just sulk by yourself! Got it?"
"G... got it!"
"Huh? Lotta, weren't you getting ready to leave? What are you delaying for?
"I just remembered one more thing!"

I grabbed Bathilde and turned to run deep into the storage compartment.
Here, the doll bodies lay silently in repose, but I soon located the familiar form.

With the pen in hand and crouching down, I carefully drew a symbol in the palm of the humanoid form.
A yellow symbol formed by two arrows intersecting in the center.

Journal Entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Reunion Replay

Summary

After running away from the Doll Arena, Krolik is running simulations of an encounter with Peritya. Krolik's goal is to take revenge on Peritya for disappearing and abandoning her back in the arena. The simulated Peritya is initialy aggressive and disdainful, but after Krolik joins the Elmo, the simulations show a more apologetic, weak or friendly Peritya. After simulating what the daily life with Peritya aboard the Elmo wuold be like, Krolik starts doubting that her goal is truly to take revenge on her former companion.

Journal Entry 1

Level II access in progress... Confirmed
Identity verification... Recognizing name... appr&{b=s;}!... Approved
Welcome!
Recording mode... Activated
Storage path... reassigned... local... Confirmed

Finally fixed this busted Level II access device... it barely works, but it's something.

I get irritated just thinking about that face of hers, and then the equipment will inexplicably malfunction, which causes the scenario simulation to fail constantly... Damn it! Damn you, Peritya! I really shouldn't have trusted her back then! Ugh, cough! The scenario simulation is to be prepared in the event that I find her. Don't—don't break again... Phew! When I find her... Yeah, once I find her, no matter what, I'm going to give her a good beating, so that she understands what it's like to be abandoned—correction, so that she understands my anger.

Scenario simulation... Start
Simulation record number... 3
Simulation environment... Local import... Purification Zone W_2067_3342... Environment confirmed
Avatar generation... Confirmed

Peritya stands quietly in a somewhat spacious clearing amidst the ruins. There are some broken walls and stones scattered about to serve as cover, and the terrain is similar to the setup used in the arena. In her hand is the gun from the days of the arena that I know all too well. I draw my blade and assume my usual starting stance. I reckon she won't just sit nicely and take a beating. Her gun isn't as weak as she is... Hmph, but I know exactly how she will make her move. Her expression is a bit blurry, but I guess it's probably her usual light and gentle smile.
I lower my body slightly and use the force of the launch to quickly close the distance with her. Just as I expected, her bullets mercilessly target my weak spots.
I drive the blade into the ground and use it to twist my body and change direction. The few bullets I can't dodge glance off the armor on my shoulder. I duck behind some nearby rocks and start thinking about my next move.
To get close to her, I need to break through the dense rain of bullets... there'll be a moment when the bullets run out, even if it's a machine gun. If I can't dodge them all, I'll just have to take the hits.
I jump as high as I can, twist my body in the air, and utilize the rotational speed to help deflect the bullets that do hit my armor. This may damage my armor a bit, but it will also waste her ammo. When she has to stop shooting to reload, I close the distance in one go—
My blade is aimed at the gap of her body under her chin.

Huh? Wait a second, maybe winning with speed and dodging her bullets would be better? That way, I can keep my armor intact, even if I miss my strike... Let's try again!
I duck behind some nearby rocks. This time, I step on the rocks and don't go straight for her. Instead, I use the momentum and dash to another cover. Turn, gain my footing, go prone, jump, and accelerate—
The machine gun bullets leave marks on the ground behind me. I just need to be faster than her reaction time—

Hmm... that didn't seem to work all that well. The amount of control needed to precisely do all of that movement is too difficult... Is there another way...
Let's try something else!
...

—Huh? Wait a minute! I seem to have forgotten that I'm not simulating a battle... Right! I was... was supposed to be formulating a response, uh, strategy for after finding her! Damn... I unconsciously started thinking about battle strategies...
Yes, I'm very familiar with her tactics. Although she knows mine just as well, I haven't been idly doing nothing all this time.
I've been through a lot... a lot of battles I could never imagine! She might have been stronger in the arena, but now, as long as I find her, I-I will—

But what if... she also got stronger...? Like, maybe she got some upgrades or something—Ugh! How shameless! If that's the case—if—!
Damn it, how shameless! If I have to beat her up—

A blaring alarm sounds in my ears. Everything goes dark.
It feels like something just broke next to me... No way, did I break the equipment again—?! ...Ugh! It's all Peritya's fault!

Equipment damaged... Forced exit... Confirmed
Environment shutdown... Complete
Simulation record saved... Backup info enabled... Successful
Recording mode... Closed... Complete.

Journal Entry 2

Accessing Level II... Confirmed
Authentication... Recognizing name... apjy&vh=s... Approved
Welcome!
Recording mode... Activated
Storage path... Reassigned... Local... Confirmed

Ugh... I finally managed to get a supply box out of the PMC warehouse, but it only had a device for accessing Level II in it. For just this lousy piece of equipment, I had to spend half the day running away from a security Doll. Was this really worth it? It even ate up a lot of my power... Tsk!

But with this, perhaps I could find out... how she would respond?
The answer to that question...

Scenario simulation... Start
Simulation record number... 97
Simulation environment... Local import... #{a=Missinn; Satellite City... Scene confirmed
Avatar generation... Confirmed

I'm hiding in the shadow behind a wall.

A little while ago, In order to "obtain" some supplies, I tried to get into the supply warehouse at a PMC base, setting off an alarm. Now, I'm trying to hide from their armed security Dolls.

"Hmm, so you're here?"

A figure appeared silently next to me. Startled, I knocked over the supply box next to me, and several PMC security dolls came over after hearing the commotion.
Tsk! I just wanted to grab something, but I failed. Did that warrant all this fuss?
I drew my blade. It was not difficult to take down a bunch of inexperienced gun-wielding Dolls. However, the one who first spotted me made no moves.
Seems like I was right——

After taking down the last useless security Doll, I did not sheathe my blade, but instead charged at that person. They skillfully blocked my attack, then jumped back to create distance. Still, my weapon had already knocked off their face shield, revealing those familiar, ridiculous cat ears and that face I so despise——

"As expected of you, Krolik. Even though your body is already falling apart, you haven't gotten any weaker." She clapped her hands sincerely.
"And you haven't gotten much stronger—" I hear myself say through gritted teeth, "—Peritya!"
I rushed over and grabbed her by the collar.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?!"
"Oh, you've been looking for me?" She seemed genuinely surprised. "But why?"
It was this sincere surprise that made me furious— from back then till now, I've been the one who was troubled with that question, while she never cared at all.
"You ask me—why? Hah—of course—of course I want to ask you why. Why did you just disappear without a word?!"
She had that infuriating puzzled look again.
"That's your question?" She tilted her head slightly, and I could feel her silky white hair gently brushing against my hand.
"Well, Krolik, it's because, you're just too weak."
She had a look on her face as if she was pointing out the obvious.
"Given the situation back then, there was no way we could've escaped with you."
Peritya calmly wrenched her collar out of my hand.
"Oh, by the way, I didn't expect you to actually survive." She gently patted my shoulders, "That's really something—"
Her somewhat cheerful words were abruptly cut off as I dropped my blade, clenched my fist, and punched her in the cheeks.

Her pretty face got twisted and messed up. I sat on her and pinned her down, strangling her neck, my fists landing on her face over and over.

Even though I had already guessed her answer, hearing it from her own mouth was——

"—I knew it, I still can't forgive you."

"Just because—" Her lame reason made me face our pursuers alone.

"I was—I—" I really trusted you.

She didn't respond or resist.
But no matter how hard I hit her, that annoying smile never left her face.
...Tsk!

Even her virtual avatar is so irritating! Why?! Never mind!

Scene closed... Complete
Simulation record saved... Success
Recording mode... Closed... Complete.

Journal Entry 3

Accessing Level II... Confirmed
Authentication... Recognizing name... Krolik... Approved
Welcome!
Recording mode... Activated
Storage path... Reassigned... Local... Confirmed

I've been staying on this MBV for a while now, going through each day trading my labor for supplies. Compared to wandering alone in the contamination zones, this kind of life is indeed easier—maybe a little too easy?
Still, that person named 'Commander' is pretty nice.
Considering the above, staying here isn't too bad of a choice... No, hmph, I'm just waiting here to get the necessary clues I need!

The place we went to today was called... an underground channel? I had no clue the contamination zones hosted these kinds of places...
They are quite rare.
Has she been here before?

Scenario simulation... Start
Simulation record number... 316
Simulation environment... Local import... Contamination zone coordinates TA25SX-KI7LCY... Scene confirmed
Avatar generation... Confirmed

The MBV drove into an underground channel in the afternoon. The Commander planned to meet with a familiar underground broker here to replenish our necessary supplies.

When I was assigned to guard the supplies, I thought I saw a familiar figure out of the corner of my eye.
Even though that person had already put on their hood by the time I looked at them, I couldn't shake the feeling that I saw a pair of rather suspicious cat ears under that hood. I sprang up, abandoned the supplies, and chased after them right away.
That person seemed to realize what was happening and quickened their pace, slipping into a nearby alley. It was an underground channel built on the ruins of an abandoned residential area, that which the ruins of walls and houses made the environment difficult to navigate. I almost lost her several times, but I followed my intuition, and I finally caught up with her.

I grabbed the scarf she was using to cover her face and pinned her against the corner of the wall.
The hood slipped off her head, and the scarf dropped to the ground.
A pair of gentle, moist eyes stared at me.
"Long time no see, Krolik." The person I had pinned against the wall spoke calmly.
"—Why did you run?"
Her gentle tone made me furious.
"Huh? If someone is chasing you, by instinct you would—"
"I'm asking why you left me to fend for myself and ran off?! Do you have any idea how many hostiles surrounded me?!"
There was a moment of silence, with only my somewhat heavy breathing being heard. Weirdly enough, I wasn't really as angry as I seemed.
"You want to know why?"
My blade was against her chin, one of the weak points of her body.
"Cut the crap."
Peritya pushed my blade away, placed her hands on my shoulders, and created some distance between us.

"Because I couldn't do it."

"—What?"
It was an answer I never expected.
"Back then, you couldn't move, and I was not strong enough to... get us both out safely. I have... something I need to do."
Her eyes seemed to flash for a moment, followed by a long silence.
I never thought that someone as strong as Peritya would have something she couldn't do.

"Sorry, Krolik."
Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I stared at her lips for a moment before realizing what she had said. Now, she didn't seem as tall and mighty as I remembered, and her clothes were all tattered.
"You too..."
"Hmm?"
I took two steps back, took off the rabbit ears I had been wearing, and threw them at her.
"You're nothing special. I thought... you'd recognize me right away, but... never mind."
I turned around, away from her face.
"I... met a rather decent human recently, so I'm doing fine... That human should be also able to keep you alive, so you should come with... Tsk!"

She... She felt that way... about the decision she made back then?! How could that be possible? She wouldn't—
Would she...?

Scene closed... Complete
Simulation record saved... Success
Recording mode... Closed... Complete.

Journal Entry 4

Accessing Level II... Confirmed
Authentication... Recognizing name... Krolik... Approved
Welcome!
Recording mode... Activated
Storage path... Reassigned... Local... Confirmed

"That Boojum we ran into before was so scary... Krolik nearly... I–If we ran into that again..."
Faced with Mayling's sudden and inexplicable worry, I recalled how I felt when I once faced that ugly thing—
Though I hate to admit it, that ugly thing was indeed really scary.
But—if she was here, with her capabilities...

Scenario simulation... Start
Simulation record number... 407
Simulation environment... Local import... Expanded scene "Laboratory"... Scene confirmed
Avatar generation... Confirmed

The mission is to investigate and search through an underground lab in the contamination zones.
The dim lights in the room flickered on and off. I followed Groza, walking past instruments of unknown purpose and transparent culture tanks of various shapes.
A cylindrical culture tank in the corner of the room caught my eye. I slowed down, then came to a stop. Groza didn't seem to notice and kept walking onwards, eventually leaving the room.

There was some blob in the tank that looked like a Doll, but strange tumors and limbs grew all over its body, kind of like that, um, Boo-something, as if it was a fusion of various organisms.

I approached the tank slowly. The upper half of the Doll's face was covered with slightly trembling, disgusting lumps of flesh, rendering it unrecognizable. But atop that head that still had some milky white hair, I saw half a worn-out cat ear—

"Peritya!!"

I slammed hard on the tank, and the person inside seemed to hear it. The eyeless face turned towards me.
"Who...?"
The voice coming from the tank was a bit distorted, or maybe the scene was just too bizarre, making it feel all too unreal.
"That voice... Krolik?"
I snapped out of my shock.
"Ah, yeah... it's me."
The lower half of her face, which was all I could see, showed a smile I knew all too well.
"You found me."
"...Uh, yeah, I finally found you—but how did you—"
The creature in the tank seemed to chuckle, and might have even tilted her head. She showed me a gentle expression.
"Oh wow, you're still alive, that's great."
"How dare you say that—!" I banged on the tank again, causing the murky liquid inside to sway.
"Why—why did you—run away first back then—"
"Why? Oh. That affected you this much?"
"I–I'm not–Ugh! Just tell me!" I tried to hit her, but my fists could only touch the cold body of the culture tank.
The only remaining good-looking corner of her mouth curved into a joyful smile.
"Is that so? Then—you'll live on with that question on your mind forever. Isn't that nice?"
"What—?"
The device on the culture tank sounded an alarm, and Peritya's already weak voice grew fainter—

"As you can see, I'm about to disappear. Krolik, you better exist a little while longer."
"If I can't stay, your neural cloud..."

The chunk of flesh stopped trembling, and she was silent.
"—What—you bastard—what are you up to?!" I pounded the culture tank in vain. A crack appeared on the wall of the tank, and the fluid within began to leak out.

Peritya did not respond.
"What's wrong with my neural cloud? You—you better finish your sentence!"
I raised my hand high to smack her in the face, but in the end, I stopped my futile actions and simply leaned against the tank.

"...Damn it! You never, ever explain things properly!"

...No.
She was so strong, how could ever she have ended up like this?

Scene closed... Complete
Simulation record saved... Success
Recording mode... Closed... Complete.

Journal Entry 5

Accessing Level II... Confirmed
Authentication... Recognizing name... Krolik... Approved
Welcome!
Recording mode... Activated
Storage path... Reassigned... Local... Confirmed

Ah... I feel like I've gotten used to life in the MBV. Even though things keep happening, it still feels quite... peaceful?
What if... she was here...

Scenario simulation... Start
Simulation record number... 726
Simulation environment... Local import... "MBV"... Scene confirmed
Avatar generation... Confirmed

I stepped out of the dorm room after my rest.
Peritya came to me in the corridor.
"Morning, Krolik."
She greeted me in a lively manner.
"Ah, morning... mm, ahem."
I instinctively adjusted myself.
"Morning, Peritya."

We ran into Peritya during a recent mission in the contamination zone. After finding out that she used to be a companion of mine, the Commander agreed to let her join us.
Since then, the MBV has been running missions as usual, but for some reason, I'm still not used to seeing her and saying hi to her every day.
I haven't found a chance to interrogate her on why she left me to die in the enemy's nest.

"Ah—right. About tonight, um... how about we do some training together? I want to practice coordinating my body whilst under acceleration."
"Sure thing."
She didn't feel awkward about it at all... Damn it!

We chatted about random things as we walked towards the ops room. Before we went in, she called out to me.
"Hold on, Krolik."
"Huh?"
She came closer, looking serious.
"Your accuracy was lower than mine yesterday. Be careful during the mission later, don't slow me down, okay?"
The sound of the door sliding open was heard.
"Let's go in."
...Ah! Damn it!

After that, we went on a simple mission to eliminate some ELIDs together. Even though it was simple, Peritya still sustained a few minor injuries. Tsk! She told me not to hold her back, but she was the one who got hurt instead.
She still had to rely on me.
Although my overall win rate isn't as good as hers, I'm a lot stronger than I was back then, right?

Finally living out a peaceful life has made me feel... um, a little happier? Yeah. Happier.

After training, we headed to the dorm together and parted ways at her door.
She walked into her room and smiled at me, "See you tomorrow, Krolik."
It was just a normal goodbye, but for some reason, I felt kind of strange.
"Oh, okay."
The door closed.
I stood in the hallway, carefully looking around—

The number on the door is wrong.
The layout around here is off too.
This sliding door-—

...Is this the ops room?
Wait a second, is this a simulation or—

"This is real..."
How could it be—I was in the middle of a scenario simulation... s–sleepwalking?! Wait, wait, wait! This is ridiculous! It must be because... Yes! It must be because I was on a mission with Nemesis yesterday and she kept talking nonsense and I had to translate it. That's why I did such a crazy thing today!

I quickly left the scene before the ops room door showed any signs of opening.
Why on earth am I doing... doing something so embarrassing! I was running scenario simulations to prepare for the day I reunited with her, to defeat her fairly, then question her—

So what am I thinking of right now?

What will I do when we meet again? Do I want her to die? Or live on?
—Do I even need to think about this now?

...What's the point me simulating all this... It's completely useless!

Deleting records... Complete
Returning result count... 0

Local records... Closed.

Bygones in the Wind

Summary

Before joining the Elmo, Nemesis was used for experiments by a certain sect. She was first assessing new computing modules under the designation Test Doll No.397_Zeta_39287, then determining the best conversational approach to convert ELID sufferers as EU-2497. After Dolls were demed to not be adapted to the conversational experiments, she was reassigned to the Cohors No. 7 Guards Combat Squad as combat unit C7U29. After a mission where her team was wiped out, C7U29 was no longer registered as a member of her organization.

While taking shelter from a Collapse storm in a ruin, C7U29 found two strange objects, a red crystal and a mask. While computing her options as the ruins are threatening to crumble, C7U29 decides to follow the path serendipitously indicated by the crystal and survives, which leads her to start using the prism as a divining tool. After she started living in an isolated camp, C7U29 one day helped a lost convoy to find its way, causing the rumor of a secluded all-knowing witch to spread.

The Commander, Groza and Suomi investigate the rumors, hoping to learn useful information for a bounty. Though they are initially suspicious of the vague intel, it proves to be correct and they visit C7U29 again. This time, the strange Doll decides to follow them aboard the Elmo, where she's nicknamed "Whitey" for a time, until she specifically requests to be called Nemesis, based on a fortune-telling flyer. However, as the glitched linguistic module builds up its data, she becomes completely unintelligible, only managing to communicate thanks to the Commander's seemingly infinite patience.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Affiliation: █████
Frame Model: SSD-05A2
Imprint Model: .50 Nemesis

Test Log... Starting
Recording Functions... Permission confirmed... Starting

{Test Information}
Test Time: ████
Test Subject: Test Doll No.397_Zeta_39287, hereinafter referred to as 'this unit'
Test Number: 263
Test Objective: To load and run the adjusted Zeta2391.7 version computing plugin on this unit, and monitor various metrics at a frequency of 100 milliseconds per check
1. Verify if the Zeta2391.7 version computing plugin can run smoothly without any serious errors of A-level and above
2. If condition 1 is met, check if the Zeta2391.7 version computing plugin can boost the computing power of second-gen Dolls to 7ZB per second, with an accuracy rate of 92%, to meet the demands of new computing technologies
Test Method:
1. After loading the Zeta2391.7 version computing plugin on this unit, record its operational status
2. Sequentially load 35%, 65%, 75%, 85%, 90%, 95%, and 100% of the prepared virtual data stream, and record the speed and accuracy of this unit's computing performance

{Test Record}
- Started loading Zeta2391.7 version computing plug-in
- Error count: 43
- Error report: 31 C-level, 12 B-level, 0 A-level, 0 S-level

- Evaluation: Test objective 1 achieved, objective 2 conditions met, testing continues

- Information loading started, first phase target: 35%
- Computation completed
- Average computing speed: 5.3ZB/sec, accuracy: 94.53%

- Information loading continuing, target for second phase: 65%
- Calculation complete
- Average calculation speed 4.7ZB/s, accuracy 93.02%

- Information loading continuing, target for third phase: 75%
- Calculation complete
- Average calculation speed 4.3ZB/s, accuracy 92.02%

- Information loading continues, target for fourth phase: 85%
-Program error, calculation aborted
-Warning, signal {857&2=a!Exception(ys{=$;If(if^23Continue testing(optest=!;
-System response halted, will restart in 3 seconds
3
2
1
- Reactivation complete

- Evaluation: Test objective 2 not achieved

{Test Results}
1. After 262 tests and data adjustments, on the 263rd test, the Zeta 2391.7 version computing plug-in successfully ran smoothly in the second-gen Doll's basic system environment without any errors above A-level.
2. When the data stream load levels were at 35%, 65%, and 75%, the computing program ran normally. The speed did not hit the expected 7ZB/second, but the accuracy was higher than the expected 92%. However, when the data stream load level hit 85%, the computing program malfunctioned and was automatically terminated. The system then reactivated itself. It is speculated that the data stream load level exceeded the test subject's maximum computational capacity.

{Test Conclusion}
Due to the fundamental design limitations of the second-gen Doll firmware, this unit cannot demonstrate the data processing capabilities described in the new generation Doll technical documentation during testing. It is concluded that the results of the R&D direction at this stage do not meet expectations, with a final success rate of less than 14%. It is recommended to archive the experimental data, delete the experimental records, discard the test subjects, and halt further development in this direction.

{Test Personnel}
Tester: NA_T897X_3290
Test Team Leader: NA_T431A_0723
Process Supervisor: NA_M489I_0531
Reviewer: NA_M9341_4379

Information log... Complete

Authorization... Confirmed
Power unit... preparing to shut down... Shutting down...
Test doll No.397_Zeta_39287
Shut down complete.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: ███ Branch Laboratory
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: .50 Nemesis

{Test Information}
Log Number: 003
Test Subject: Test Doll number EU-2497 from the ███ Branch Laboratory, hereinafter referred to as "this unit"
Test Objectives:

- Phase I
1. Check whether the deep reinforcement learning module can operate in the second-gen Doll technology application system environment, with fewer than 30 errors and no severe errors of A-level or above
2. Check whether the environmental data collection and analysis module can operate in the second-gen Doll technology application system environment, with fewer than 35 errors and no severe errors of A-level or above
3. Check whether the external expression style and method construction module can operate in the second-gen Doll technology application system environment, with fewer than 23 errors and no severe errors of A-level or above

- Phase II
1. Test the efficiency of linking the deep reinforcement learning module with the environmental data collection and analysis module:
1) Is the coverage rate of environmental observation data above 85%?
2) Can it generate strategies and corresponding efficiency estimations normally?
3) Do the strategy efficiency estimations meet expectations?
Note: The expected efficiency data is set with 45% and 77% as the benchmarks
0%-44%: "Ineffective and not recommended"
45%-76%: "Feasible but unlikely to achieve the target"
77%-100%: "Effective and recommended"
2. Test if the external expression style and method construction module produces the expected results, subjectively judged by the tester
Note: During the dialogue test, monitor in real-time whether the communication tendency of the local communication subject exceeds the safety threshold of 87%
- Begin Phase I testing

{Test Record 1/2}

- Started loading the deep reinforcement learning module
- Loading completed, 21 errors found, fewer than the expected 30
- C-level: 17, B-level: 4, A-level: 0, S-level: 0
- No severe errors of A-level or above, proceeding with the test

- Started loading the environmental data collection and analysis module
- Loading completed, 27 errors found, fewer than the expected 35
- C-level: 21, B-level: 6, A-level: 0, S-level: 0
- No severe errors of A-level or above, proceeding with the test

- Started loading the external expression style and method construction module
- Loading complete, 18 errors found, fewer than the expected 23
- C-level: 15, B-level: 3, A-level: 0, S-level: 0
- No severe errors of A-level or above, proceeding with the test
- Language sample confirmed
- Analysis of sample expressions, syntax, and sentence patterns completed
- Extended search of sample vocabulary completed
- Local vocabulary database updated
- Sentence construction completed, with an 87% similarity to sample sentences
- Generated sentences stored in the language strategy database, awaiting deep reinforcement learning module
- Sample expressions, syntax, and sentence patterns analysis results stored in the language strategy database, awaiting deep reinforcement learning module
- Test completed

{Test Results}
1. The deep reinforcement learning module can operate in the second-gen Doll technology application system environment.
2. The environmental data collection and analysis module can operate in the second-gen Doll technology application system environment.
3. The external expression style and method construction module can operate in the second-gen Doll technology application system environment.

- Test complete. This unit has achieved all Phase I test goals

- Phase II test is expected to begin in 23 seconds
- Initiate countdown
22
21
20
......
3
2
1

- Begin Phase II testing

{Test Record 2/2}

- Confirmed the target of the conversation, within observation range, recording this target as observable experimental Subject 001, hereafter referred to as Subject 001
- Entering preliminary procedures
- Preliminary procedure 1/2 initiated
- Starting environmental data collection
- Collection complete, gathered a total of 52 environmental data points
- Subject 001's E.L.I.D symptoms are assessed to be in the mid-stage, the sonic release device is expected to reduce its pain level from level III to level II
- Subject 001's heart rate is above normal. Based on facial muscle dynamics, movement tendencies, and various physiological signs, the primary emotional signal is identified as "suspicion" at 56%, with secondary signals of "tension" at 23% and "confusion" at 21%
- The environmental observation data coverage rate is 87%, which is higher than the expected value
- Proceeding, 1 step remaining

- Preliminary procedure 2/2 initiated
- Analyzing environmental observation data
- Sonic release device activated, expected to take effect in 6 seconds, parameters synchronized
- Analysis complete, 23 alternative strategies generated
- 8 strategies within the efficiency range of 0-44%. Randomly selecting one:
Strategy No. 22, efficiency 39%
- 11 strategies within the efficiency range of 45%-76%. Randomly selecting one:
Strategy No. 19, efficiency 56%
- 4 strategies within the efficiency range of 77%-100%. Randomly selecting two:
Strategy No. 12, efficiency 87%
Strategy No. 7, efficiency 79%
- Alternative strategies stored in the strategy database, awaiting further calls by the deep reinforcement learning module
- Preliminary procedures complete, ready to start the dialogue test

- Expected to conduct 4 rounds of dialogue tests, utilizing strategies in the following order: Strategy No. 22, Strategy No. 19, Strategy No. 12, and Strategy No. 7.

- Initiating dialogue test, Round 1/4.
- "Who are you? What did you do to me?" Information from Subject 001 received.
- Calling deep reinforcement learning module for strategy.
- Utilizing Strategy No. 22, responding with:
- "Self-deception brings punishment, but the faith I bring is both shield and spear."
- Using facial expression database preset expression 013: "Calm"
- Using dynamic behavior database preset action 198: "Hand movement: right hand placed on the other person's shoulder"
- Evaluating change in emotional signals: "Suspicion" rises to 59%, "anger" rises to 41%, communication tendency assessed at 31%, below the threshold of 87%. Assessing that Subject 001 might engage in aggressive behavior.
- "What the hell are you talking about? Get lost!" Information from Subject 001 received.
- Environmental observation data update, Subject 001 is initiating an attack on this unit.
- This strategy is judged to be ineffective, strategy content and evaluation have been archived.
- The effectiveness of this strategy is within expectations.

- Subject 001 status reset complete

- Initiating dialogue test, Round 2/4.
- "Who are you? What did you do?" Information from Subject 001 received.
- Calling deep reinforcement learning module for strategy.
- Utilizing Strategy No. 19, responding with:
- "Those who are aided by Him will be freed from the pain wrought unto thee by Collapse radiation, my kind, my friend."
- Using facial expression database preset expression 002: "Kind"
- Using dynamic behavior database preset action 419: "Hand movement: right hand extended forward, moving forward 20 cm"
- Evaluating change in emotional signals: "Suspicion" rises to 76%, "tension" rises to 24%, communication tendency assessed at 53%, below the threshold of 87%.
- "What? What kind... friend... who the hell are you calling friend?!" Information from Subject 001 received.
- This strategy is deemed ineffective, strategy content and evaluation have been archived.
- The effectiveness of this strategy is within expectations.

- Subject 001 status reset complete

- Initiating dialogue test, Round 3/4.
- "Who are you? What did you do?" Information from Subject 001 received.
- Calling deep reinforcement learning module for strategy.
- Utilizing Strategy No. 12, responding with:
- "I endure the pain of flesh, just like you. The difference between us; salvation has come unto me."
- Using facial expression database preset expression 023: "Calm"
- Using dynamic behavior database preset action 231: "Hand movement: Clasping hands and placing them on the chest"
- Evaluating change in emotional signals: "Suspicion" drops to 67%, "tension" drops to 16%, communication tendency assessed at 90%, above the threshold of 87%.
- "...Salvation? It really doesn't hurt anymore... If you save me, will it stop hurting?" Information from Subject 001 received.
- This strategy is deemed effective, strategy content and evaluation have been archived.
- The effectiveness of this strategy is within expectations.

- Subject 001 status reset complete

- Initiating dialogue test, Round 4/4.
- "Who are you? What did you do to me?" Information from Subject 001 received.
- Calling deep reinforcement learning module for strategy.
- Utilizing Strategy No. 12, responding with:
- "I am a believer, He took away my pain. Non-believers, He witnessed their downfall."
- Using facial expression database preset expression 006: "Gentle"
- Using dynamic behavior database preset action 231: "Hand movement: clasping hands and placing them on the chest"
- Evaluating change in emotional signals: "Suspicion" drops to 47%, "confusion" rises to 21%, communication tendency assessed at 89%, above the threshold of 87%.
- "What the hell, it's gone... It really, really doesn't hurt anymore... Did you do this?!" Information from Subject 001 received.
- Warning, abnormal situation
- Preset action 231 was interrupted because Subject 001 pulled on the body of this unit.
- This unit's clothing shifted, reducing the facial area coverage to 12%.
- Evaluating change in emotional signals: "Suspicion" rises to 81%, "confusion" drops to 9%, "anger" rises to 10%, communication tendency assessed at 15%, below the safety threshold of 55%. It is determined that Subject 001 might attack.
- "Are you... a machine? What the hell did you do to me, you stinking tin can?!" Information from Subject 001 received.
- Environmental observation data update, Subject 001 is initiating an attack on this unit.
- This strategy is deemed ineffective, strategy content and evaluation have been archived.
- Warning: the effectiveness of this strategy is not within expectations.
- Possible reasons:
1) Occasional data analysis error, Subject 001's emotional signal analysis abnormality.
2) Interruption in tracking key environmental observation data; Subject 001's abnormal pulling habit was not logged.
3) Change in this unit's test status, altering the facial area coverage.

- Dialogue test completed. Additional tests are recommended to investigate why the efficiency estimation of Strategy No. 7 did not meet expectations.
- Suggestions accepted.

......
......
......

- Additional tests completed.
- Based on the data from observable experimental subjects 002 to 087, 251 rounds of dialogue tests were conducted.
- Test data backtracking completed.
- Additional tests results: When this unit's facial area coverage is below 20%, there's a 97% chance of observing abnormal changes in emotional signals of the test subjects, including a sharp rise in negative emotions, such as "anger" and "suspicion." The likelihood that the communication strategy's effectiveness doesn't meet expectations is 93%. The suspected reason is that the strategy estimation doesn't align with expectations.
- Notes: When the strategy effectiveness estimation doesn't meet expectations, there's a 100% chance that strategies with an effectiveness range of 77%-100% will fail.

{Test Results}
1. Efficiency of linking the deep reinforcement learning module with the environmental data collection and analysis module:
1) The coverage rate of environmental observation data collection is 87%, which is higher than 85%
2) Strategies and their corresponding effectiveness estimations can be generated normally
3) The strategy effectiveness estimations meet expectations
2. The tester has confirmed that the external expression style and method construction module produced the expected results.
- Warning: The test record showed an abnormal error, and the test results might be unreliable. Please refer to the additional test results.
- Tester ID: NDU51274
- Tester biometric information recorded and confirmed.

{Additional Test Results}
When this unit's facial area coverage is below 20%, there's a 93% chance that the communication strategy will be ineffective. This condition does not affect other types of strategies.
- Tester ID: NDU51281
- Tester biometric information recorded and confirmed.

- Test complete. This unit has not achieved all Phase II test goals

{Test Conclusion}
This unit's deep reinforcement learning module, environmental data collection and analysis module, and external expression style and method construction module are all functioning normally and within expectations. However, in the second phase of the dialogue test, the machine did not reach the goal.
It is speculated that the preparatory test subjects who have not undergone mental management cannot reach basic understanding and trust with Dolls, causing the communication strategies deemed effective by the deep reinforcement learning module to fall short of expectations. Therefore, it is inferred that the success rate of using modified Dolls for missionary activities is less than 3%, and the likelihood of causing unexpected incidents is higher than 47%. It is recommended to stop the experiment.
- Researcher ID: NDU53657
- Researcher biometric information recorded and confirmed.

- Accepted
- Core test data cleared
- Confirmed, moving to the next process

{Unit Information Updated}
- Doll Number EU-2497 experimental status revoked
- Assigned to ███ Branch Guards Combat Squad
- Affiliation Updated: ███ Branch Cohors No. 7 Guards Combat Squad
- Identity Number updated: C7U29
- Change Confirmed

- Log Number: 003
- Entry Complete

Authorization... Confirmed
Power unit... About to shut down... Shutting down...
C7U29
Shut down complete.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link... Unsuccessful
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Mission log... Enabled
Recording function... Permissions confirmed... Enabled
Affiliation: ███ Branch Cohors No. 7 Guards Combat Squad
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: .50 Nemesis

- Mission Number: 1453
- Mission Status: Interrupted
- Record Number: 023
During escort mission No. 1453, this unit was attacked by an unknown assailant.
The source of the attack is unknown, and the attack method is unique. It is not in this unit's database and cannot be identified.
According to the records, the link between this unit's neural cloud and Level II showed abnormalities, and the link between the neural cloud and frame was interrupted, which resulted in a loss of control.
This unit made multiple attempts to reconnect.
Control of the frame was regained after 14 minutes and 27 seconds.
A self-diagnostic revealed that 23% of the data in the strategy database was lost.
Based on the environmental observation data, this unit's location is 10 kilometers away from the original mission location. No signals of members from Team No. 27 have been detected nearby. It is assessed that this unit has been separated from the team.
Attempts to communicate with the team have received no response.
Based on the 19 strategies generated by the environmental data collection and analysis module, this unit is following Strategy No. 11, which involves returning to its designated base.
- Updated Mission Objective: Return to the Cohors No. 27 Guards Combat Squad
- Record number 023, compiling complete
- Saved

- Mission Number: 1454
- Mission Status: In Progress
- Record Number: 024

- Phase 1 Objective: Reach the base
Arrived at the base at 1637 hours. No response to the communication request.
- Phase 1 Objective: Achieved
- Updated Objective: Enter the base
- Saved

- Phase 2 objective: Enter the base
Out of the 6 strategies generated by the environmental data collection and analysis module, this unit had chosen Strategy No. 4, which was to try to enter the base directly.
This unit was attacked with live ammunition, which indicated that the base's defense mechanism was triggered.
The attack came from combat units C7U13 and C7U30 of the Cohors No. 27 Guards Combat Squad.
This unit attempted to send a communication request. The attack stopped, and this unit received a response that asked for its identity number.
This unit sent its identity number.
After 7 seconds, this unit received a "No record found" message and was simultaneously hit by a data stream and live ammunition attack.
The collision between the data stream and this unit's data defense system affected its neural functions, causing the frame to lose control for 1 second.
It was determined that the number of combat units from the Cohors No. 27 Guards Combat Squad increased, leading to continuous damage to this unit's frame and reduced functionality to 69%.
Out of the 4 strategies generated by the environmental data collection and analysis module, this unit chose Strategy No. 1, which involved a temporary retreat to await further instructions.
- Phase 2 Objective: Achieved
- Updated Objective: Maintain power in frame
- Saved

- Phase 3 Objective: Maintain power in frame
This unit arrived at some building ruins at 0647 hrs.
The straight-line distance between this location and the branch office is 6.4 kilometers.
Environmental data collection complete. The building ruins with a roof can reduce the effects of the Collapse storm by 27%, and there is a 43% chance of finding usable resources at this location.
Power remaining: 32%. Switching to low power mode.
Frame function has dropped to 63%. Damage to multiple locations.
Warning: This unit will engage the deactivation protocol if the frame function drops below 60%. Immediate emergency intervention is recommended.
Level II link... failed.
This unit's neural cloud is generating abnormal data. According to the emotional database, signal is identified as "anxiety".

Out of the 9 strategies generated by the environmental data collection and analysis module, this unit has chosen Strategy No. 6, which means heading down the corridor at 23 degrees southwest.
After 19 minutes and 1 second, this unit found an abandoned standalone charging device behind a half-collapsed column.
The abandoned standalone charging device was utilized. This unit now has 40% of energy remaining. The standalone charging device is now out of power.
- Phase 3 Objective: Achieved
- Updated Objective: Return to base
- Saved

- Phase 4 Objective: Return to base
The updated environmental data indicated that there was a 78% likelihood that attacking the building's internal structure would cause the ruins to collapse, which would render escape impossible for this unit.
The environmental data collection and analysis module was confirmed to be still operational. There were 7 strategies generated based on the current environmental data.
This unit chose Strategy No. 2, which was to retrace the original route out of the ruins and return to base.
Part of the ruins collapsed and blocked the path after moving forward for 31 seconds.
Objective not achieved.
Remaining battery power at 39%. Frame functionality has dropped to 62.7%.

Based on the current environmental observation data, 5 strategies have been developed.
This unit has executed Strategy No. 3, opting to take the right-hand path.
Strategy abandoned, objective not achieved.

This unit is executing Strategy No. 2, opting to observe the situation on the spot.
Strategy abandoned, objective not achieved.

This unit implements no.&^(ks dios;
Strategy abandoned, objective not achieved.

All 7 strategies have an efficiency below 44%. No viable strategies available.

Warning, battery level at 34%, frame function down to 59%, neural cloud status abnormal.
Warning, frame function below 60%, entering deactivation protocol, supply code frozen, will expire in 90,000 seconds.
Taking measures to improve frame function to 60% to restore supply code access is recommended.

Vision module interference detected, complete vision loss in 2 seconds. Auditory module is picking up faint noise.
Unable to confirm situation. For safety, attacking the noise source with live ammunition is recommended.
Suggestion accepted. Noise gone.
Vision module reactivated; vision blurry.
Environmental data updated. Obshare corpse has been found on the ground, likely the noise source neutralized 17 seconds ago.
Attempting to reactivate vision module to clear blur.
The vision module has been successfully reactivated. The view is now clear.
Environmental observation data has been updated.
Warning, there is an unidentified object near the corpse of the Obshare.
No signs of attack detected, further observation is recommended to identify the composition.
Suggestion accepted. This unit identifies the unknown object as a red crystal, composition unknown.
Mark the unidentified crystal as unknown object 001.
It is determined that there is an irregular metal block near the crystal, composition unknown.
Record the unidentified metal block as unknown object 002.
This unit attempts to pick up unknown object 001 and unknown object 002.
Due to abnormal frame function, unknown object 001 slips from this unit's fingers and rolls on the floor of the ruins.
The tip of unknown object 001 points 48 degrees north by northeast. Visual signal feedback indicates there is a corridor in that direction.
It is determined that this result is consistent with Strategy No. 7.

This unit enters the corridor and moves forward for 13 minutes 26 seconds before the main entrance of the ruined building comes into view.
The auditory module picks up abnormal noise 2 seconds after this unit leaves the ruins, indicating the sound source is inside the ruins.
After 8 minutes 7 seconds, the building ruins start to collapse, covering a range of 500 square kilometers. Warning, this range exceeds this unit's environmental collection limit. There is a 94% chance of error.
The massive dust cloud from the collapse obscures this unit's vision.
The ruins completely collapse after 2 minutes 37 seconds.

Warning, battery level is at 21%. Frame function has dropped to 47%.
It is recommended to take measures to increase frame function to 60%.

Return to base.
Warning, this strategy has a 97.3% chance of causing complete damage to the frame.
It's recommended to avoid this outcome and improve the frame's functionality promptly.

Return to base.
Warning, this strategy might lead to complete damage to the frame.

Decision: Refuse to return.
Abandon the strategy. The mission objective is now to maintain the frame's function.

Confirm that the environmental data collection and analysis module is operational. Based on the current environmental data, 7 strategies have been generated.
All 7 strategies have an efficiency below 77%. It's recommended to gather more environmental information and re-analyze.
Due to abnormal frame function, unidentified object 001 falls from this unit's finger.
The tip points 23 degrees southeast. This result matches Strategy No. 4.
Warning, battery level is at 19%, and frame function has dropped to 44%. Immediate action is recommended.
Do you want to execute Strategy No. 4.

Yes.
This unit will now execute Strategy No. 4, proceeding to move 23 degrees southeast.

Direction confirmed. Moving out.
- Phase 4 Objective: Abandoned

- Mission Number: 1454
- Mission Status Update: Failed

- Record No. 024, edited
- Saved.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... Failed
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Journal... Enabled
Recording function... Permission check... Enabled
Affiliation: ███Branch Cohors No. 7 Guards Combat Squad
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: .50 Nemesis

Day 17 at the new temporary base.
Used the scope to observe the target.
Confirmed, the target rolled down the dune using unconventional movements.
Confirmed, the biological reaction disappeared.
This unit used the frame's eyes for direct observation of the rapidly retreating target.
Similar scenarios have occurred 1.56 times per day this month.
The noise-making object appeared, received an answer, and disappeared.
The noise-making object appeared, was driven away, and disappeared.
These two handling procedures accounted for 23% and 77% of the total event count respectively.
Given the continuous emergence of the noise-making object, the necessity of adopting a more effective communication strategy was estimated to be 92.6%.
The environmental data collection and analysis module generated 4 strategies, and this unit adopted strategy no. 2, which involved using similar expression formats to align with the other party's way of thinking and improve communication efficiency.
It is recommended to replace frequently used words first. For example, personal pronouns.

Search records, first-person pronouns.
I: Appears 76.3% of the time
Me: Appears 9.5% of the time
My: Appears 8.2% of the time
Myself: Appears 5.3% of the time
This person: Appears 0.5% of the time
Other entries: Appears 0.2% of the time

It is recommended to use "I".
Suggestion accepted.

I.
I don't like being disturbed.

Warning, the way this is expressed externally does not match the internal logic of the system, which could cause a system error with a 76% probability. It is recommended to start the dynamic adjustment function.
Proceed with the suggestion.

Dynamic adjustment initiated.
Changing internal logic expression.
Replacing vocabulary.
Sentence structure and grammar rules have been modified.
The chance of causing expression errors is now 7%, and the occurrence of errors may continue to decrease.
Initiating tests.
Prototype sentence: Judging, light spots appear on the ground.
Expression sentence: On the yellow sand, the sunlight flickers.
The system will use the above internal logical expression for logging, confirm?
Confirmed.
Changes complete.

"...I don't like being disturbed..."
Attempting communication, using the optimized language style.
Noise increases, constant chatter. Communication efficiency evaluated to have dropped from 45% to 38%.
Warning, this result may be due to occasional data errors. It is recommended to continue the strategy and test with more samples.

The light spots swaying on the sand caught my eye; they seemed to be sunlight refracted by the red crystal on the tip of the metal cone.
Right now, it hangs from my waist.
The light spots move, following its rhythm, almost like a living creature.
Power cells, bionic muscle fibers, frame repair tools—whatever resources I need can always be found if I follow its guidance.

The first disruption of the peace was a resident transport vehicle that got lost due to a malfunctioning positioning device.
Following the cone's direction, I point towards the direction of the answer.

Afterwards, more and more noises started surrounding me.
At first, most of the noise-making objects were seeking answers, like where supplies might be or the whereabouts of missing loved ones.
Without much interest, I gave them answers to make them gradually move away and quiet down.
This strategy achieved the goal.
As time went on, the noise-making objects' questions became all sorts of strange.
For example, they would call me unknown titles, kneel respectfully from a distance, and ask me where the truth was.
For example, the emotional signals of "irritation" gradually grew:
"Are you the all-knowing witch from the rumors?"
"Witch," meaning unclear. Expanded search failed.
"Why do you cover your face? Is there a reason you can't show it?"
"Cover," possible attack behavior, to avoid. Inform humans, behavior not matching the strategy.
"Your outfit is so weird, why?"
"Weird," I can't determine the taste in clothing style.
"Is this what you use for fortune-telling? I've never heard of such a method."
"Fortune-telling," meaning unclear. It is speculated it involves using unidentified objects 001 and 002 to determine strategy, my way.
"Why do you talk like that?"
"Why," I don't understand. I can't answer.

An abnormal emotional signal is generated in my neural cloud, identified as "annoyance."
I wait for the abnormal emotional signal to disappear, standing still. Whether to find some resources or to return immediately, the strategy needs to be decided upon.
I jump in a certain direction, towards the light spot on the metal cone.
Following the light spot, I head towards the temporary base.

Judged to be rat remains, abnormal items at the entrance.
There's an 87% chance that a noisy, disruptive object is placed here.
Sometimes, it's earthworms or frog legs. This seems to be some kind of a human tradition—throwing useless things from afar.
The light spots projected by the metal cone are affecting observation. Although harmless, they're hard to clean, and abnormal emotional signals arise spontaneously.
Even if frequently moved, these noises followed like flies to honey, disturbing the peace.
If I have to make the trade, then power cells, discard something useful, I'm hoping.
No, don't come, a more pressing hope.
Picked up the rat remains, I threw them far away.

"What is this? Dried rat?"
Detected a voice.
Holding the tail of the dried rat, the owner of the voice, hidden behind a protective mask, raised it up.
The figure in full protective gear seemed to be a human. Two armed Dolls followed closely behind.
A cautious gaze, shifting from the dried rat to me.
Carried firearm identified: OTs-14.
Estimation: The success rate of a strategy involving intimidation and forceful expulsion is 17%.
Abandon, adopt a communication strategy.

"Are you the all-knowing witch from the rumors?"
Silence, indicating the other party to continue.
"I have a question. Since you don't want rat tails... I can trade something else for the answer. What do you want?"
What do you want?
A simple evaluation.
The abnormality in the control system appears in the sound module. The head body's gesture indicates a replacement.
I move my chin, tapping the depleted power cell on the ground.
"You want garbage?"
Unclear directions might lead to the human misunderstanding and misinterpreting. Recording completed.
Using my neck as an axis, I mimic the humans I've seen before and shake my head body side to side to indicate a negative answer.
"Could it be a power cell? That's much more valuable than rat tails or dried worms. This doesn't match the rumors."
The man scratched the back of his head through the protective hood.
"You're the one who said you wanted to try your luck, Commander."
The Doll wearing heavy gloves and winter clothes responded like this.
I couldn't believe those seemingly clumsy hands could pull the trigger.
Thick gloves and winter clothes, what a Doll might wear in the desert.
Carried firearm identified: KP/-31.
Recording completed.

"There's no way around it, the info dealer suddenly hiked the price, and the outrageous cost is more than the reward for this job."
The signal was judged as "compromise," based on the movement of the other person's eyes.
"I agreed. Anyway, there's no other info for now."
Silence, signaling the other person to continue.
The most likely place where a fugitive is hiding, the other party asked.
I placed unidentified object 002 in front of me and raised unidentified object 001.
"... Pointing to 3:51... The ancient clock hand reveals the answer..."
The control system of the sound module didn't report an error this time.
But the other party sighed, indicating "disappointment", with their face hidden behind the mask.
"It's just a Doll, but it talks weird and acts all spooky."
The other party waved, and the cautious Doll tossed a battery into my hand.
With a clumsy gait, leaving footprints in the sand, the other party left.
My neural cloud generated abnormal data for unknown reasons. But it can be determined that it is not the emotional signal named "anxiety" or "anger" in the database.
Nor is it "impatience".
No disturbance... no noise.
Objects that don't make noise aren't distractions.
For the new base location, the environmental data collection and analysis module came up with 153 strategies.
Touching the metal cone, I got my answer.
Move, follow the footprints.
Lost the trail, hoping to find the target.
Wandering, continuing the journey.
Finally, after 19 days, I returned to the starting point, arriving at the mark where we first met.

With an empty magazine and a used power cell cradled in my arms, I walked across the sand dunes.
I didn't follow any strategy to find a new base.
The tip of the metal cone always points here, and that's why.

The information receiving module reports that a lifeform is nearby, showing signs of activity.
Today's wind direction is good for long-range live ammo shooting.
The vision module confirms that the dust kicked up by the bullets shows the lifeform is moving away.
Recently, bullet consumption has been increasing.
Noisy, interfering objects are getting harder to drive away.
Unintentionally, that person's image data popped into my neural cloud.
It appeared 19 days ago.
There are no objects making noise.

The engine roared to life, and the sound was fed back through the auditory module.
Enduring the slightly manic emotional signals generated by the neural cloud, I raised my gun.
The figure observed through the scope matched the image of the person retrieved by my neural cloud just now.
In the brand new jeep, the other person waved at me. There were still two dolls next to him.
The expected result appeared once again.
Reuniting with this person, the answer it provided.

"The direction you gave last time was actually correct. I'm a bit interested in your predictive ability. Do you still perform fortune-telling?"
Scanning the other person's mask, the flickering light spots, almost lifelike.
An error occurred in the control system of the sound module.
Evaluating. Completely damaged.
I shook my head.
"Oh... never mind."
Shrugging, the other person turned and walked away.
Holding the half-empty magazine and the used power cell, I followed their pace.
The blond Doll looked at me. Judging as a signal of "suspicion".
Turning around, they stopped.
"Why are you following me?"
Unable to speak.
Looking at the things in my arms, they looked puzzled.
"I don't buy junk."
Junk? Unable to understand.
I'm not trash.
I shook my head again.
They kept walking.
I matched their pace.
"What are you trying to do?"
I pointed at myself, then at them, extending my index finger.
"Oh, I get it," recognizing it as their emotional signal.
"Surely you don't want to follow me, do you?"
I nodded, controlling my neck muscles to move my head up and down.
"Even though we're short-handed... we can't just take in a Doll of unknown origins."
Signal confirmed.
Environmental data updated, collecting the other party's data.
Pupil dilation, facial muscles, heart rate, breathing.
Estimating. There is a 93% chance the answer is positive, and a 7% chance it is negative.
After a brief thought, the Doll with the intricate braids responded.
"Based on her condition, it's highly likely she's unaffiliated. If everything checks out, we can try to integrate her."
0 minutes and 7 seconds later, the auditory module received a signal.
"That's right. The underground broker nearby... Yeah, that guy should have relevant info... If there's no issue, it's worth a shot."
That was the response.

Recording... Completed.
Log... Closing.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: MBV Elmo
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: .50 Nemesis
Mission ID: TASK-1437
Time: Day ██
Status: Completed

I walked into the ops room, following Leader's footsteps.
After completing the mission for the 7th time, we were assigned to the "Elmo".
The person called the Commander sat in a chair in an uncomfortable position and turned to us.
"Any progress this time?"
Leader gently shook her head, her golden hair swaying.
"Same as always."
"...Did her action plan fail again?"
"And it was the worst possible plan."
There is more than an 85% chance that I am the subject of their discussion.
The Commander got up from the chair and adjusted their posture.
"Is this a jinx?"
"That's not entirely accurate, Commander. It's not completely useless."
"You mean...?"
"As an exclusion qualifier in making strategic choices."
"I knew it."

...
An unpleasant signal emerges.
"Jinx," when I am referred to as such.

"...tearing through the rain curtain, the chirping of fledglings... clear, echoing..."
"Huh? What?"
A bewildered and inquiring gaze is cast towards me, at this moment, located in the command room.
Assumption—crucial information failed to be conveyed.
To effectively communicate, I raise the reference object in my hand, pointing out the information on it.
"...A leaflet? What's with the leaflet?"
Assumption—crucial information failed to be conveyed.
I confirm the location of the information, pointing at each word's location, with a slightly forceful finger.

"Ne...me...sis?"
I nodded to affirm that notion.
"What's up with that name?"
"...Bells ringing... in a silent world, flickering..."
"What... ringing?"
A "confused" emotional signal. The Commander scratched their head.
"You used to just talk a bit weird, but lately, I can't understand you at all."
The meaning of the words wasn’t understood.
I pointed back and forth between myself and the name. I used my index finger to motion between myself and the information to have them understand.
"Are you trying to say you want to be called Nemesis?"
I nodded to affirm that notion.
"Why?"
"...parched soil, gray clouds, rain connecting..."
"Can you explain it in a simpler and clearer way? Like how you used to talk?"
Assumption—crucial information failed to be conveyed.
I pointed to the woman on the flyer, hoping to be called that.
The cone crystal in her hand pointed precisely, drawing lines and patterns on the sand table.
Compared it, raised it, moved it, and placed it next to the flyer.
"Oh... this thing is kind of similar to your strange tool. So, you want to be known the same way?"
I nodded to affirm that notion.
"But is that name really suitable?"
A thoughtful expression, concern underneath.
"...leaf veins stretching, in the withered land... searching, knowing..."

No feedback from the auditory module.
A strand of hair brushed against Leader's cheek. She broke the silence.
"It's her own choice, there's nothing wrong with that."
"Yeah, she's been with us for a while now. It's not right to keep calling her 'Whitey.' She should have a proper name."
The Commander silently mouthed the name "Nemesis" twice, and their emotional signal was registered as "approval."

Nemesis.
This unit, no, my identification code is now Nemesis.
Information confirmed.

I am Nemesis.
"Are you that happy?"
Happy...? I don't think I've shown any emotional signals, so I don't know how the Commander can tell.
"By the way, I haven't asked you yet; what made you decide to join the Elmo?"
The Commander's expression gave the emotional signal of "seriousness".
"I was a bit surprised when you suddenly said you wanted to join."
"What were you thinking?" I could not discern the meaning of the question.
"...Standing on a sea cliff, ancient trees surrounded by white eagles..."
The Commander paused.
Unfortunately, the crucial information was failed to be conveyed.
"...Um...White eagles...You want to fly? Did you come to me just to ride a drone?"
...
No.
"...snowflakes swaying... tracing the air currents..."
Attempted to say it in different ways.
The Commander rubbed their forehead.
Once again, the crucial information was failed to be conveyed.

"How about this, I'll give you some options, and you nod if there's something you want to do, okay?"
This method has a 63% communication efficiency.
Nod.
The Commander listed out a series of professions and activities.
This behavior lasted for 30 minutes and 57 seconds.
The Commander's data records should be updated—increasing their imagination rating to 67% and patience rating to 95%.
"None of them?"
The Commander's voice was slightly hoarse, and their facial expression registered as the emotional signal for "tired".
"I'm a bit tired... Did she always talk like this? I remember I could understand her in the beginning, right?"
The slight change in linguistic features should be attributed to the normal operation of the module for constructing external expression styles and methods.
Checking synchronization rate of internal and external styles.
A 71% match.
Acceptable.

As Leader exhaled, a strand of hair fell to her shoulder. She paused to think.
"This seems to have started after Mayling helped her fix the divination tools... the crystal and metal mask."
Mounted on a common metal base, unidentified object 001 is connected to unidentified object 002, with Mayling's assistance.
Recorded as divination tools.
"Why would fixing that change the way she talks? Are those her external neural components?"
...
No.
My neural components are not "external".
"I guess the divination tools are really important to her."
Indeed.
Modify Leader's data records—increase her observation rating to 91%.
"Oh, divination tools! How did I forget about that... You don't still want to be a witch, do you?"
"Witch"... According to stored records, I was once called that.
Looking up the definition... In ancient times, it referred to someone who could use supernatural powers or divine the future.
Divination?
Confirming the other party's meaning.
Divination, using the power of cone-shaped metal.
If it has a name, its power will be stimulated.
Reason... unknown...
It should have a name.
Window.
Mismatch.
Dashboard.
Mismatch.
Chair.
Mismatch.
Commander.
Mismatch.
Blond...ie?
Mismatch.

My vision module registers the patches of light dancing on the dashboard, refracted from the items the Commander is carrying.
So as the light shall, the future is presented in a refracted way.
Similar items. Mirror...
Expanding range.
Mirror... Telescope... Lens... Eyeglass...
"...prism..."
"Prism? What prism?"
I raised the divination tool—no, the Prism—in my hand.

I am Nemesis.
This is the Prism.

Record... Saved.
Log... Closed.

Twisted Smile

Summary

This story is linked to Dusty Memories#Hidden Feelings.

After joining the Elmo and becoming a Tactical Doll, Colphne is frustrated by her low firepower, but insists on remaining a medical Doll first and foremost so the Elmo crew don't end up like her former unit.

While in the third medical team of the URNC Central Army Emergency First Response, 11th Medical and Chemical Regiment, Colphne was under the orders of Anfiya Sharapova, who had participated in the creation of the medical Dolls. A rescuer who enver compromised to save every life possible, Anfiya also named Colphne after a patient who had successfully recovered, finding the name to bring luck. Under her guidance, Colphne learned to think beyond her programming and to use smiles and white lies for the good of her patients. But on October 14th, 2073, their camp was looted by Varjagers and a wounded Anfiya could send Colphne away in time, making her the only survivor.

Colphne accumulated frustrations with humans during the next month: the Central Army deemed it unnecessary to send a rescue mission and when she finally deserted to return to the base, it had been swallowed by the Yellow Zone's sand. Colphne wanted to take revenge on the Varjagers and planned to trade medical help in exchange for energy and resources, but had to run away from humans who wanted to sell her for scraps after taking advantage of her and eventually ran out of power in the contamination zone. She was reactivated in February 2074 after being found by the Underground Broker Poludnitsa, who expected Colphne to give her more information about the end of the 11th. Colphne attempted to exchange the intel for a conversion into a T-Doll, but Poludnitsa refused and Colphne had to enter her service to keep living. Poludnitsa also recommended Colphne to keep a cutesy act towards humans to get what she wanted, in a twisted continuation of Anfiya's advice.

Poludnitsa eventually deemed that Colphne was no longer helpful, but instead sent her to the Elmo, saying that its leader would easily fall for Colphne's tricks. While Colphne eventually integrates with the Elmo crew, she's reminded of Anfiya every time the Commander asks her to drop her act.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: MBV Elmo
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: .380 Curva
Mission ID: TASK-3115
Time: Day ██
Status: In Progress

Date: April ██, 2074
Weather: Sand everywhere again today
Mood: 0v¬<

Sooo~ Is the Commander getting a bit slow this time around?
I mean, the Commander used to be suuuper sharp about everything, y'know?
When it came to missions, the Commander would always pick the most bang-for-your-buck option. For battle strategies? The Commander would totally consider everyone's strengths. Even first aid, the Commander's pretty slick at that... Sure, the Commander would miss some itty-bitty details now and then, but that’s still waaay better than your average Joe!
Like, hello? When a machine goes boom, you're supposed to scram, pronto!

But noooo, the Commander ends up with a big ol' gash on the arm.
Maybe the Commander is just not feeling it this time? That's why the Commander got hurt?
Hmm... better keep an extra close eye on the Commander.

So there I am, patching up the Commander's boo-boo, and get this—the Commander has got a face like a powered-down Doll. Zero expression.
Hmph. I might've tightened that knot juuust a teensy bit more than necessary.
"Sss—! "The Commander hissed.
Teehee~
After I finished up, the Commander was there twisting their arm around, checking out my handiwork.
And then, the Commander goes and says...

"Colphne's got some pretty nifty bandaging skills. This knot looks quite nice."

Was the Commander just saying that to be nice?
No, there’s no way—
The Commander's face looked genuinely curious, and their body language wasn’t screaming "I’m faking it".

So, I guess the Commander probably doesn't know about her.

She... she was different from other humans, but she and the Commander, they're kinda similar in some ways.

If only she were still alive... it'd be super great if she were here too.

Log module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: MBV Elmo
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: .380 Curva
Mission ID: TASK-3115
Time: Day ██
Status: In Progress

Date: ██ May 2074
Weather: Collapse Storm, Intense
Mood: >.<

Today!
We ran into those Varjagers again!
Grr—!
This itty-bitty handgun won't cut it for a real fight! I've gotta, absolutely gotta get some serious firepower to take down those Varjagers! Otherwise, everything up till now would be for nothing!
If not, me and the others on the "Elmo" are gonna end up just like those guys back then, buried in the sand and forgotten.
No one's going to remember them, let alone care about them.

If only I could be as cool as Leader Groza...
No no no, I can't give up on being a "Medical Doll" just yet.

I can totally do this, Anfiya...
...

"Hmm? Not bad with the bandages. This knot looks exactly like the one in the textbook. You really are a medical Doll, huh?"
"You, what's your name?"

That drawn-out tone, that lazy voice, those blue-gray eyes, and that scar on her right cheek—
She’s Anfiya Sharapova.
I did a quick search in my neural cloud for info about her. Anfiya Sharapova, Central Army Emergency First Response, 11th Medical and Chemical Regiment, leader of the third medical team where I belong.
How should I respond to all that?
My database doesn't contain any pre-programmed answers for this kind of conversation. All I can do is respond to that last question.

Smile. Lift lip corners by 30 degrees. Hands behind the back.
Preset posture, checked.

"Hi, Officer Anfiya Sharapova. I'm a civilian medical Doll, serial number TS-K-2076. How can I help you?"
"Ha...? TS—what? Why do your naming conventions keep changing?"
"Yes, I'm sorry about that."
"Get a new name."
"Okay, what would you like to call me?"
"What to call you... uh..."
She looked like she was putting in a lot of thought.
"Colphne—Colphne? Hmm, that sounds pretty good," she flipped through her medical records, "The patient with this name just had a successful surgery. I hope this name brings you good luck too."
"Yes, Officer Sharapova, I'm Colphne!"
And that's how I got my very own name.

I never thought she'd come looking for me again.
Or that she'd curse someone out like that. Her words were so harsh, she used pretty much every string of vocabulary in my database that I cannot say to my patients.
While I was wondering if I should report this to the higher-ups, she grabbed my arm. "Colphne, right? Come on! Let's go for a walk!"
She put on a protective suit and dragged me to the top of a ruined building next to the barracks. There being no Collapse storm that day, visibility was over 10 kilometers. She sat there, spacing out, not uttering a single word.
She stared at the ruins in the distance, and I stared at her.
We were quiet for a long time.

"Why are you staring at me like that? Did you crash or something?"
My body was perfectly functional, so I didn't get where she was coming from.
"Anfiya, we'll see the light together, please don't give up."
I changed the way I addressed her and used the nicest words from my pre-programmed vocabulary. Maybe that's the right thing to say?
"Cut that scripted nonsense! I'm the one who wrote the medical Doll’s response library. If you're gonna talk, use your own words!"
Looks like she got mad.
"Anfiya, please don't be angry, everything will be alright."
She whipped her head around and glared at me. After a while, she let out a cold "hmph".
"Shut up, Colphne."
"Yes, Anfiya."
I answered.
She glared at me again, then clammed up. Then, she pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, clicked it a bunch of times all grumpily, but no blue flame showed up as anticipated.
"What a bummer."
She then tossed the lighter into the sand.

"Anfiya, smoking is bad for you, so please..."
Before I could finish, she shoved something hard into my hand. According to my visual feedback system, it was half a chocolate bar in a torn wrapper.

"Thank you, Anfiya. I don't need chocolate, Anfiya."
"Just take it. Pop it in your mouth when you want to talk."
"Consuming food will cause a number of problems to Dolls, like—"
"Put it in your mouth, NOW."

I hesitated for a second, then followed her order and popped the chocolate in my mouth.

"How's it taste?"
She asked. Her eyes were all smiles, the corners of her mouth lifted up by more than 30 degrees; beholding an expression that could definitely be categorized as "happy".
My programming told me I should've said...

"The Dolls in the third medical team don't have taste modules."
No, maybe a different answer would be better.
Searching in my neural cloud for what chocolate should taste like—
"Anfiya, it's sweet and super tasty."

She burst out laughing. I could almost see her back teeth through her protective suit's mask.
If she liked chocolate, I had to remind her to brush her teeth.
"You're funny, really funny." she laughed as she patted my shoulder, "A Doll that lies, that's hilarious!"
"If I can make Anfiya happy, then I'm happy too."
That wasn't a pre-programmed response. Those words came together on their own and popped out of my mouth.
"Oho~"
She looked at me all surprised, then started laughing again.
She looked so pretty when she laughed, I thought.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition, Central Army Emergency First Response, 11th Medical and Chemical Regiment, 3rd Medical Team
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: None
Mission ID: ██-██-██
Time: Day 39
Status: Completed, Pending Confirmation

Date: October ██, 2073
Weather: Severe Collapse Storm
Mood: ^_^

I just want to see her smile forever and ever.
Back then, she was smiling too.

Another day with that nasty Collapse storm going wild, everyone's hiding in camp. Anfiya's all smiles, saying we've saved 48 people so far, and that we'll be outta here soon for our next rescue mission.
At first, when we were deciding whether to save those folks with early E.L.I.D. symptoms from the Collapse storm, Anfiya got into a big argument with one of the team members.
But in the end, Anfiya convinced everyone.
"We're going to save these infected people, we've got plenty of supplies."
"Doesn't matter where they're from, a life's a life. I don't want to hear any more objections."
The arguing stopped, it got all quiet, and everyone just stared at Anfiya.
This might not be good. My programming says humans need support.

"I support Anfiya!"
I said, jumping up, smiling real big, and raising my hand up high.
People around me started grumbling, but she stood there in the crowd, smiling at me.
As a medical team, saving lives is our number one priority.
There are some weird feelings building in my neural cloud.
I don’t understand.

We ended up taking in those patients, giving them treatment. It all went super smooth.
Then, October 14th, 2073 rolled around.
Just another day with another Collapse storm, nothing special. Anfiya was asking me how to tie the perfect bandage knot, like always.
But then, we heard gunshots outside. Sand full of Collapse radiation from the Yellow Zone came rushing into the camp, and along with it our team members with bloodied chests.
"It's the Varjagers... Run! Run!"
Judging by his voice, his lungs were all clogged up, with fluid building in his chest. He needed treatment, stat.
He fell over in front of us, coughing like crazy, and then the gunshots got even louder and more frequent.

...

Someone grabbed my hand really tight. I could feel the warmth of a human, and the sticky blood where our skin touched.
It didn't hurt, but I could tell how strong they were.
Running away, following their steps, I heard Anfiya’s heavy breaths.
"Anfiya, you've lost more than 10% of your blood! You need treatment right now!"
"Cough, cough—! Shut up! Get in!"

She shoved me into the jeep, holding the door with one hand and pushing me down into the driver's seat with the other.
"My name is Anfiya Sharapova. Seal all exits, lock the windows, start the autopilot, and keep going forward. Don't accept any other commands!"
As soon as she finished, we heard those people's voices and more gunshots.
"Anfiya, get in the jeep! You'll die if you keep bleeding!"
I grabbed her arm as hard as I could, trying to pull her into the jeep.
"Shut up, Colphne! Stay alive!"
She shouted, then yanked her arm away, pushed me down onto the seat, and finally slammed the door shut.
I could see the Varjagers catching up.
Gunshots rang out, and Anfiya fell right in front of me.

ANFIYA——!
Why, why, why, why, WHY?!

"Stop! Stop, please! STOP——!"
I screamed, but the only response I got was "Insufficient authorization," over and over. I slumped over the steering wheel, with nothing but a sandstorm in front of me.
I can't... I can't just leave her there! If I go back now, maybe I can still save her!
I hit the jeep's window as hard as I could. I don't know how long it took, but I finally crawled out.
I ran towards where she fell.

Yellow sand, endless yellow sand.
I couldn't see Anfiya or anyone else. All I could see was the camp, completely looted by the Varjagers.
Everything was quiet.

I failed.
I didn't make it in time.
Anfiya, she's... gone.
No humans, dead, vanished, I should be sad, I should cry, I should, I should...
No, no, nonononono.
Save her!
I should save her!
I remember where people live nearby. With just some medical supplies and some help, I can come back and save her.
40km, that's not far, Anfiya, just wait a little longer for me.

...

"Huh? There's not even a shadow of anyone. They must've been swept away by the Collapse storm."
"No point in trying to save them. We're short on supplies too. Let's get outta here."
"But... Anfiya..."
"How many people die in the contamination zone every day? We don't have time for this."
"Please, I'm begging you..."

Smile. Lift those corners of your mouth up 30 degrees. Put your hands behind your back.
Gotta smile, gotta smile, that's what humans want to see. If they see me smiling, maybe they'll help save Anfiya.

"Huh? You weirdo, your smile's uglier than you crying."
"You look pretty pitiful, but give it up. The protective suit's busted, and no one survives where the Collapse storm hits, especially since your 'Anfiya' was hurt."

I knew they wouldn't give me supplies or help save Anfiya. But if they could give—no, lend me some communication device—
"I-If possible, can I use your communication equipment? I... I can help treat patients, get groundwater, even fix houses..."
My voice was shaking.
"Oh right, you're a medical model, aren't you?"
"Y-Yes, sir."
"Fix up the person inside, and I'll lend you the communicator."

...

Lucky for me, the person's injuries weren't too bad. Under their watchful eyes, I used the medical kit they gave me and gained access to the communicator.
I searched my database for the Central Army emergency reporting channel.
Connection made.
"This is medical Doll TS-K-2076 from the 11th Medical and Chemical Regiment of the Central Army Emergency First Response. The 3rd Medical Team was attacked by Varjagers while on a mission. The situation is critical, requesting immediate assistance!"
After what felt like an eternity a robot voice told me they got the message, and ordered me to get back to my team.
Then, they hung up.

...

Why, why did it turn out like this?
I kept trying to call back. At first, they answered in a grumpy tone, but afterwards only busy tones played.

"We've recorded the incident—you don't have the clearance to receive updates, please stop calling."
I gave back the communicator, and for some reason, I felt something strange and new budding within.
I started running.
Colphne. Run, run faster, faster.
Run to where she used to be, where she made me leave.
My hands dug into the yellow sand, trying to find even the tiniest trace of her.

Nothing.
No matter how many times I tried, there was nothing. Just yellow sand slipping through my fingers.
The sand, it's so annoying.
The wind, it's so annoying too!
Why is it that I can only kneel? Why is it that my hands can only hold these useless grains of sand?!

Anfiya...
If she hadn't saved me and escaped in the car instead, would things be different now?
If I could've run a bit faster and made it back to save her, would things be different now?
Back then, if she hadn't tried to save those people, would things be different now?
There will never be answers.
There will never be a reality I live in where those ’ifs’ are real.

I stood up, not knowing where to go. But I couldn't just give up.
She said, "Stay alive, Colphne."
So I have to survive. Survive until I take care of those Varjager bastards. Then, I'll come back here to be with you... Anfiya.
They say that when humans die, their souls go to Heaven.
Dolls don't have souls, but I have a neural cloud backup. As long as my neural cloud data is okay, I can avenge you.

My self-diagnostic program says I've only got enough energy for two more days.
Energy, that's what I need the most right now. Just a little bit... a tiny bit. This is a contamination zone; humans really need medical help. Trading medical aid for electricity shouldn't be a problem.
Broken human bodies, bleeding wounds, and painful curses... Dealing with stuff like that is my job.

"Your name's Colphne, right? Cough, cough... You look really cute..."
"Thank you very much."
The programmed response just popped out of my mouth, but why'd they call me cute?
"If my daughter were alive today, she'd be about your age."
"...Please believe, as long as you don't give up, the future will be bright."
"Cough, cough... Heh, see that person outside? Once you fix us all up, they'll take you apart and sell you to some shady dealer."
My hands tightened, and the human in front of me gasped.
"Sorry..."
"You're just like a human... Run away, Colphne."
"Why... are you telling me this?"
"Without you, I probably wouldn’t make it through this month."

...

I ran away.
I ran far, far away from there.
Step by step, my self-diagnostic system kept throwing errors at me.
"Low-power mode on."
I gave this command to my body, and everything went dark.
Turn off the journal entry module?
"...Keep it on."

I have to survive.
Explosions, people screaming, bullets hitting metal, that's mostly what I remember about the battlefield—

When the fighting starts, hide.
When it's over, go search. If I find one energy cell, I can keep going for a few more days.
My hands were digging through mechanical parts when something pierced the fake muscles in my hand. I lifted my right hand.
Tissue fluid gushed out, hitting the broken metal with a ticking sound.
It's okay.
A quick stitch, keep searching.

"Who's there?!"
A scared, unfamiliar voice came from nearby.
Being in low-power mode, I could only see a fuzzy, hunched shadow.
They seemed to be holding a gun, a... big but blurry gun.
"..."
I quietly stepped back, clutching the energy cell I'd just found.
The shadow moved—they were aiming—
Run!
My legs moved faster than my neural cloud could process, and I ran through the wreckage.
"Bang!"
The gunshot was deafening. The bullet tore through my back and got stuck in my chest.
I feel like I'm on fire. But I can't fall here.
The gunshots didn't stop. I ran with all my might until my body couldn't take it anymore, and my artificial muscles started falling off.
I collapsed in a ruined building in the Yellow Zone.

Anfiya, it's so dark here...
But I haven't avenged you yet. I can't come and see you yet...
Humans can feel the cold; is this what the cold feels like?
Anfiya...

Time no longer made sense to me.
I don't know how long it has been, but a tall, dark figure stopped in front of me.
"A Doll from the Central Army? Looks like I caught a little wolf cub stranded in the storm... Wow~"
Battery depleted, visual module shutting down.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Central Army Emergency First Response 11th Medical and Chemical Regiment 3rd Medical Team, N/A
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: N/A
Status: Active
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

Date: February ██, 2074
Weather: Collapse Storm, Light
Mood: None

My body can move again.
I opened my eyes and saw this lady watching me like a hawk with her arms crossed.
Her hair was all black, and her eyes were ice cold. What I felt from her wasn’t what I deemed "human".
She wasn’t a "human", like Anfiya was.

"..."
I took a little step back, keeping my eyes on her. I need to be able to run if things go bad.
"Hmm~? Aren't you a cautious little thing? That's pretty rare~"
"I did some digging. You're one of those Dolls from the 11th Medical and Chemical Regiment, right? How much do you know about what happened to them a few months back?"
"...Did you fix me up?"
"Oh?" She smiled all interested-like. "Not gonna answer my question, huh? Asking your own instead?"
"Put an FCC in me, make me a T-Doll, and I'll spill the beans about the 11th," I said.
"Huh? Little wolf cub, do you even know what you're saying? Do you have any idea how much moolah it took to drag you back here and get you up and running?"
"I don't think you've got any useful information, little cub."
Poludnitsa kept on smiling.
"Wanna bet I'll take you apart right now?"
"T-Take me apart...? But didn't you just..."
That smile of hers was totally different from Anfiya’s.
That smile of hers—
Was a fake one; only used in the presence of those one has little patience for.

So I took another step back.

"Oh~ Finally catching on, are we? I'm not exactly... what you'd call a good person, little cub."
Her face looked just like those I had once seen, who wanted to tear me apart and sell the parts off. Maybe I should make a run for it...
"With that posture of yours... you thinking of running?" She still looked as aloof as ever and showed no signs she was going to attack. I just stared at her, keeping my mouth zipped.
"I went through all this trouble to wake you up, and you haven't given me a single juicy bit of info. Instead, you're trying to bargain with me..."
She paused, her smile growing ever bigger.
"So, pray tell, why should I let you keep on existing...?"

Her words sent a chill down my spine; a feeling not too far removed from when I was shot in the back. This lady, she can totally do what she's saying!
To stay alive, I’ve got to do what I did before...
"You want to know about the 11th Medical and Chemical Regiment, right? I-I can tell you everything!"
She squinted her eyes and gave a little smile.
"What else~?"
"And... and... whatever you want to know! I'll spill everything! Just... just let me keep on living!"
She kept squinting at me, not saying a peep.
Gotta say something to make her believe me, or I'll end up like before—
"You can have all the info about the regiment... and whatever services I am capable of! Medical rescue work, cleaning, I can do it all!"
She still didn't say anything, but her eyes grew a bit softer. Maybe... maybe I can ask for something now?
"I just need a tiny bit of electricity to stay alive!"

She kept staring at me, then suddenly burst out laughing.
"Not a bad deal, kid. I'm Poludnitsa. You are...?"
"Col-Colphne."
"Hm? That's not a medical Doll's serial number. Who gave you that name?"
"..."
"Not gonna answer? Well, that's fine."
She paused and raised an eyebrow.
"Colphne, lemme tell you something. When dealing with 'humans', the 'Mona Lisa smile' is your best bet~ And your tone should be all warm and fuzzy~"
"Mona... Mona Lisa smile? What's that...?"
"At the very least, you need to convince me that you're trustworthy~"
"Warm, trustworthy... I-I get it."
I smiled super wide, trying to sound as warm as possible—
"Whatever Poludnitsa asks for, no matter what it is, I'll do it for sure~"
"Oh...? Haha~"
Poludnitsa laughed.
"A-Am I doing it right? Poludnitsa?"
"...Yeah, that’s not bad at all."

After that, I got enough electricity to stay alive from Poludnitsa by doing medical work and odd jobs. She started being nicer to me, though sometimes she'd make this weird scowl.
Sometimes, Poludnitsa would chat about the contamination zone.
But just living on isn’t enough for me.
My real goal is to avenge Anfiya.

One time, while I was helping with the stock-taking, I spotted Poludnitsa and zoomed over to her.
"Poludnitsa~ I'm back again~ Got any new tasks for me? I've been waiting soooo impatiently~"
"You again? Colphne, right? You want me to install that fire-control core, don't you? Getting impatient, huh?"
"Ah, as expected of Poludnitsa, you saw right through me~ Since you know, pretty please help me out~ I've been working super duper hard lately~"
"Oh? What have you been up to? Let's see..."
Poludnitsa flipped through her logs.
"Pulling shifts, sweeping, laundry, organizing supplies... that's it? Colphne, I could get any old Doll to do these chores."
My smile froze, but I quickly plastered it back on.
"But... but I really, really need this fire-control core..."
"Well, let me give it to you straight, little cub. It's not happening~"
Same answer again. But I can't give up.
"Okay then, Poludnitsa, I'll come back to see you tomorrow~"
"Huh? Tomorrow?"
Poludnitsa sighed.
"Feels like you've been here forever. I've put up with you long enough."
"...Ah, not at all~"
I took a deep breath and put on my best ’Mona Lisa smile’.
"No matter how long it takes, I just wanna help Poludnitsa more and more~"
Poludnitsa's face twisted into that familiar scowl.

"Come to think of it... there's someone who really likes to stick their nose in this kinda business~"
"Someone... who?"
"That person has this huge MBV called the Elmo~"
"T-The Elmo...?"

Poludnitsa looked up as she walked down memory lane.
"Ha~ It was a while back. Met this person by chance, during this really unusual snowstorm. Their MBV was all busted up, and there was this blue-white flash over it, like some kind of legendary, unfathomable spontaneous combustion. Elmo... someone with a big responsibility... and that very phenomenon is literally known as the St. Elmo's fire—"
"Snow in the contamination zone, thunder, and spontaneous combustion on the vehicle roof. What were the chances, eh...?"
"This person driving an MBV called the Elmo—don't you think it's like, destiny or something?"

I didn't really get what she was saying.
But right now, I was focused on something else.

"So... can I go to the Elmo?"
"Now that's a whole ’nother can of worms~ There are so many rooms on board the Elmo, it's like a maze. Well, if you sneak in and stay hidden, it probably won't be a big deal."
"What if I get caught...?"

She seemed to remember something and grinned wolfishly.
"If you get caught, just talk to that person using—yeah, the 'Mona Lisa voice'. That person's like, a rare good egg in the contamination zone, and pretty generous too. They'll probably agree to let you stay. Oh~ I do wish they'd stop calling me 'Harpagon'."
"The Elmo is manned by a whole bunch of T-Dolls, the kind you wanna be. If you can sweet-talk that person, you might just get what you want. And then, you can get outta my hair faster."

That person...

Looking at Poludnitsa's face, I made up my mind.

"So, Poludnitsa, can you pretty please send me to that person~?"
I gave her my cutest smile, the kind most people would call adorable. Poludnitsa smiled back.
"Well, let's see—"
She pointed at a black box in the base.
"As it just so happens, I'm missing a few parts, totaling at about your weight. If you wanna go, just hop into this box."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Central Army Emergency First Response 11th Medical and Chemical Regiment 3rd Medical Team, N/A
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: .380 Curva
Status: Active
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

Date: April ██, 2074
Weather: Collapse Storm, Extreme
Mood: 0v0

It's super dark in this box.
My body is trembling a little.
I have no clue how much time has passed, but I can hear the sound of conversation outside.
Sounds like they're having a big argument over something. One of them has a voice that can only be described as special. That voice is approaching. They seem to be... coming over to open this box.
I see a glimmer of light upon their opening of this box.

W–What should I say first to make these strangers believe in me?
To make that person Poludnitsa talked about trust me?
Poludnitsa said that person is a Commander of many Dolls, so... can I call them... Commander too?
The footsteps are getting closer, and then—
Alarms start blaring. The footsteps stop and move away.
I let out a big breath and made sure it was all quiet before I lifted the lid and crawled out of the box.

This place doesn't seem to be much better than Poludnitsa's.
I snuck over to where I heard noise, and gently pressed my ear against the sliding door, trying to catch every little word.
Suddenly, the door flies open and I fall to the floor.
I look up, and with the ear-piercing alarm still going off, I see a bunch of pitch-black gun barrels pointed right at me.

I need to show them that I have no intention to attack.
Still sprawled on the floor, I put on a smile. "Whoa... Sorry, I didn't know there were people around!"
No reply.
That person who seems to be the 'Commander' stared at me.
"...Who are you?"

...

I've been here for a long time now.
Even though I was retrofitted with an FCC, it's still not enough.
I'm nowhere near strong enough to erase the Varjagers. I need more power.
I'll remain here for now.

...

"Colphne, what are you thinking about? You look like you’ve been spirited away."
"Oh, nothing much~ By the way, Commander, you gotta be more careful next time. Can't have you... getting all banged up, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
The person in front of me rotated their wrist around, checking out the knot I tied.
"It's pretty, but something feels... off."
"Off—? Ohhh, I get it! Let me fix it up for you right now—Commander~"
"...Colphne, don’t talk like that."
The person in front of me looks fed up, just like... just like how Anfiya once reacted.
The Commander is a good person.
A good person, like Anfiya was.
Good people should live on.
I took a deep breath, quickly grabbed the Commander's arm, undid the bandage, and tied the messiest knot ever.
Just like the ones Anfiya used to tie.

"Colphne..."
"There! Did I do a suuuper good job fixing it for you, Commander~?"
I asked with a smile.

Maybe, just maybe, this person can really be trusted.
Looks like I'll be interacting with them for a while longer...
Only time will tell.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Similar Traces

Summary

Ever since 404 started working with NOMFA, ^SMG UMP45UMP45UMP45 had to change her appearance and ^SMG UMP9UMP9UMP9 had less opportunities to see her. 9 is also taking part in Persica's experiments on the Remolding Pattern technology to enhance the power of second-generation Dolls. Ever since her third-generation Doll technology has been stolen, Persica is expecting some terrible events to occur and hopes that Remolding Pattern will enable her allies, including the Commander, to face them. During the experiments, Dier informs that 45 was heavily damaged during a mission and will require repairs from Persica.

9 is depressed that she couldn't help her sister and thinks back to the Battle of the Dead Sea, where she was last destroyed. Persica explains that 9 was chosen as the test subject specifically since it was something 45 couldn't do, because of the OGAS in her Neural Cloud and her refusal to go through frame replacement. Persica has recently come up with ideas to fully preserve 45's Neural Cloud and allow her to finally change body, but this only makes 9 more upset since it implies ^SMG UMP40UMP40UMP40, 45's “real” sister, could acquire her own body.

During another experimental run, Persica's laboratory suffers an electronic attack and 9 crashes. 9 is uploaded into a new body frame and no longer needs to run experiments. Before she has time to worry about becomeing useless, and considering the personalities of 404, Kalina] gives her the position of communications, coordination, and daily affairs specialist in her office. 9 has also lost the eye scar she wore to look like 45, but after 45's encouragements, she decides not to reproduce it to signify that she's changed, like the rest of 404.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: H.I.D.E. 404
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: UMP9
Mission ID: █-█-Task#██
Status: In Progress

I finally got to meet Sis 45 again today♪

She came straight from Miss Kalin's office after wrapping up her mission, so we rendezvoused near the factory. I wanted to meet up somewhere more special at first, but 45 said it's better if we can just find somewhere close by. Well, if she says so.
As for why near the factory... Hehe, it's because we're actually on a supply transport mission together!
As long as we're together, what we do doesn't matter ♪

When I first arrived, I did not spot 45; she was probably still on her way.
Taking the chance, I tidied up my messy bangs in the glass reflection of a building.
I can't afford to be messy when I'm about to meet big sis!

Before I could decide whether to put my bang on the left or right, 45's silhouette suddenly appeared in the reflection.
We looked at each other through the reflection. She seemed to have changed again. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it was her expression... or the aura she gave off? Ever since she started working with Miss Kalin, she changed her hairstyle and always wore a suit.
The two of us in the reflection don't even look alike anymore. Seriously, the only thing common between us that was left was the scar on her face! But ours aren't even on the same side... Ugh! It's all my fault! I didn't take the opportunity to correct the position of the scar when we changed frames last time!
But back then, there wasn't much room to care about that...
That time, many of our companions...

No, no, no. It's not the time to think about this!
Anyway, the next time I get a new frame, I must—

"What are you daydreaming about?" The 45 in the reflection reached out and patted 9 in the reflection, and I felt a familiar touch on my head.
A familiar feeling that made me feel at ease.
"You've been gone so long, Sis 45, I almost didn't recognize you!"
We walked together towards the factory, and the not-so-similar 45 and 9 in the reflection disappeared.

We found Miss Kalin's contact without a hitch. The person sternly verified our identities several times before taking us to the supplies.
"Wow, they're being very serious... Is there something special about what we're picking up today?"
45 and I each carried a large box. Although it was very heavy, no sound came from inside, seemingly filled with shock-absorbing and pressure-resistant materials.
"These are materials and instruments for Persica's experiment. Kalin specifically commissioned these pieces of customized equipment from an acquaintance. The experiment is still highly confidential, which is why we are needed to pick these things up."
"Oh... Miss Kalin really knows a lot of people." I shook the box in my hand, feeling its hefty weight through the hydraulics in my arm. I hesitated whether to tell 45 or not that I would be participating in Persica's experiment tomorrow—not as an assistant, but as a test subject.
She would be worried about me, right?

"9, you don't have to take part in tomorrow's experiment."
Huh! So, 45 knew about it... Hehe, so I was right to expect her to worry about me♪
"It's okay, with Persica around, even if I break down during the experiment, she'll fix me!" I leaned closer to her and lowered my voice, "Given that third-generation Doll technology has been stolen, Persica's Collapse Epiphyllum Pattern—whatever project... is the only way to boost our strength, right?"
"Yeah. We still don't know who or what's behind those who stole the technology, or how they'll use it... But by then, if we don't have the power to fight back, the outcome could be disastrous."
"That's Miss Kalin's words, right?"
"Yeah. Kalin also said that if the Commander returns, things will become even more chaotic than before. If we can't help them out by then, things will be really bad."
"Hmm, so... Persica's experiment is actually for the Commander, right?"
"Kalin would never admit it~"
"Hehe, of course I know that. Ahem..." I put on a serious face, "'This isn't for you, and actually, it's not even certain if you'll get to use it.' Miss Kalina would definitely say that afterward."
"Not bad, your impressions of her are getting better."
"Hehe, are you saying I've grown up a bit, 45?" I felt a little happy, but also quite scared, so I quickly asked her, "Do you also think I can help everyone better now, 45?"
"No need to worry about it, just leave everything to Kalin and me." She simply smiled without answering me directly.

"I need to worry about it! There's plenty I can do, and I can be a great help to you!" I frowned and pretended to be upset. A tinge of bewilderment appeared in 45's gaze, yet she still seemed worried.
"I'm not—"
45 stopped talking and turned on the terminal attached to her ear. Did she get a new message? I stopped talking and waited for her.
Yep, that's her work tone... Must be a new mission.
"Sorry, 9, I got a new mission, and I have to leave right away. Can you take care of these supplies?"
"What mission? Is it troublesome? I'll go with you..."
"No."
"...Huh?" Her firm refusal caught me off guard. Taking advantage of my hesitation, 45 had already stacked her box on top of mine.
"This mission... has too many uncertainties, it's better if I handle it alone." She patted my shoulder with her now freed hand, "Transporting supplies is also important, make sure you do it well, 9."

45 left me behind.
Turning around, reflected in the dim, small glass window is 9's lonely silhouette.
Everyone... is changing... becoming stronger...
But I... I can't be of use for 45, or anyone else for that matter, so I was left behind.

"I... will follow Sis 45's words."
The 9 in the glass window steadied the box in her hands, straightened her neck to look at the road ahead, and finally chose a direction to take her first step forward.

That direction was slightly different from the one 45 took.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: H.I.D.E. 404
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: UMP9
Mission ID: █-█-Test#██
Status: In Progress

Whoa, whoa, whoa?! What's going on?
With an unexpected red light and alarm, the virtual scene disappeared.
That lazy woman appeared in front of me with a coffee cup and the usual dark circles around her eyes. I stared blankly at her as she checked the experiment records.
"Did I mess up again?"
"Well, there are a lot of errors. The process was interrupted by... oh, an unexpected attack pattern."
"What do you mean by unexpected? I clearly aimed for that target!"
"Uh... looks like you mistook system noise for the target."
Ugh...!
"Hehe, that does seem to be the case. ♪"

Persica skillfully instructed the researcher next to her to archive the recent experimental data and mark it with the note "the experimental subject showed signs of attention decline."
I sighed, the fatigue making me slide down against the lab wall and slump haphazardly on the floor.
"Repeating the same thing over 2,000 times is exhausting..."
"You're a Doll, you don't get tired," Persica stared at the monitor and answered me absentmindedly.
"Ahaha, don't you expose me like that."
Persica sat in front of the instrument next to me with the sweet coffee that everyone called 'mop water'. In one gulp, she downed the whole thing, put down the cup, and started typing away on the keyboard.
"Well... scientific research is just this boring."
Eh, I don't get it.

"I really want to go on a mission."
"Huh? You're on a mission right now."
"Well... that's true! But... wouldn't it be great to test the experimental results in a real combat mission?"
Persica kept tapping away on her keyboard with a look that clearly stated, "Ugh, here we go again."
"No, the current data can't be used in actual combat. In such an unstable state, and since anything could happen on the battlefield; we couldn’t pass such data to the Commander, could we?" Persica stopped typing, propped her chin on her hand, and stared at the screen, completely ignoring me.
"Then how long is this gonna take...? I want to do something useful for once!"
"I told you, it's not the right time yet. If the experimental subject gets damaged, I'll have to fix it, which is a hassle."
"Persica, you underestimate me. I'll be careful not to break it—"
"No, let's prioritize the progress of the experiment. The next experiment..."
The sudden ringtone that blared made Persica stop talking. She reached out to pat her white coat and finally pulled out the terminal from her chest pocket.
"It's not mine."
"Oh!" This time, it was my turn to pat my coat, "Ah, it's me! Uh, whose number is this...?"
The caller obviously didn't expect my question and said a bunch of stuff very quickly. I finally recognized the somewhat unfamiliar voice. His voice seems to have changed over the years!
"Ah! It's Dier!"
"What's with the 'Ah, it's Dier'...? Did you hear what I just said?"
"Sorry, sorry, Dier, you were talking too fast. Could you repeat that, please? ♪"

Persica stood up, poured another cup of coffee, and was about to take a sip when she finally noticed that I was still holding the communicator in a daze.
"9? What's up? Is that Dier on the line?"
"I-I'm fine! It's 45... She..."
"45? Isn't she on a mission?"
I blinked, mumbled a few words to Dier, and hung up. I need to relay the most important message to Persica first.
"Well... 45 seems to have had an accident. Her frame is seriously damaged. Dier is on his way there. He asked me to tell you that there's a high chance she'll need to be sent to you..."
Persica took a couple of gulps of her coffee and put her fingers through her messy hair: "Serious damage? What a surprise—I thought 45 would handle it quickly..."
"If I had insisted on going with her yesterday..."
No, she must have anticipated the difficulty of this mission in advance, which is why she left me behind.
"...I'm so useless."

Persica rapped on my head with the empty coffee cup in her hand. She’s finished her coffee already?
"Huh? What are you talking about, 9? It's almost time to get ready for the next experiment."
"Oh, it's nothing, I was just thinking, you know, 45 is so amazing... If it had been me, I bet I would've ended up in an even worse state. I'd probably... be broken beyond repair..."
Just like last time—no, no! I can't think about that now, I have to keep going with the experiment! Focus, focus!
I dusted myself off and stood up, ready to resume the experiment.
"Alright, what's next?"
Persica didn't answer me. She seemed to have suddenly remembered something. With a distant look in her eyes, she dumped a pile of sugar cubes into her cup.
"...Actually, 45 was meant to be the original test subject, but because one, that thingy in her frame was an uncertain factor, and two, she wouldn't accept a frame replacement if the experiment failed, they chose you instead."
"Haha, Persica, is this your way of comforting me?"
"Well... you could see it that way."
"Alright, alright. Thanks, I feel much better now."
I shrugged. I didn't feel better at all.
"Oh, and about that thing in 45's frame... An extraction may be possible eventually."
...
.........
..................Huh? Does she mean the thing I just found out about recently?
"...Persica, are you talking about...45's old... N-No way... An extraction may be possible?"
"Yeah, I came up with some ideas during this research, and we can give them a try later." Persica's eyes lit up, "If it works, it would make things a lot easier, don't you think? 45 would finally be able to ditch her current frame. It's hard to repair and since it's been used for so long, it's falling apart."
An extraction would mean that she—45's real sister—
Will come back.

"In that case..."
"You'll have another sibling, eh? And her system... could be really useful."

Is that really how it would play out?
If she... if UMP40 comes back, I will have no right to stay with 45 and the others.
She... she'll definitely be more useful than I am.
And no matter how hard I try to pretend, we're not really sisters.

I felt a wave of dizziness.
I was probably imagining it, but I felt the scar on my face burning. I raised my hand to my forehead.

"9, what's wrong? Hello?" Persica waved her hand in front of my eyes, "The next experiment is about to start, you know?"
Persica's leaned in with a puzzled look on her face. I quickly wiped my eyes.
"N-No problem!"
"Really? If something's wrong, just say it. Otherwise, it might affect the experiment results."
"Really, it's nothing. I just think you're amazing, Persica. Hehe, I need to work harder too! Let's continue and finish the experiment quickly, then I can go..."
Then I can go see if there's anything I can do for 45.

But, will she still need me?
Will Miss Kalina and the Commander still need me?

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: H.I.D.E. 404
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: UMP9
Mission ID: █-█-Test#██
Status: In Progress

"Oh? Not bad, not bad at all."
Persica's eyes sparkled as she pounced at the workstation, almost hugging the monitor to check on the experiment data that got recorded. I disconnected from the test simulation, moved to her side while brushing past her somewhat messy pink hair, and futilely stared at the screen full of numbers.
Ah, I can't make sense of any of this!
"Well, looking at this, we should be close to success."
"Really?! That's great—♪" Although I don't know if I would still get to help Sis 45 out, being able to achieve some results with my efforts was something to be happy about!
"Someone contacted you earlier." The researcher next to Persica handed me my comms terminal.
"Huh? Why do you have my comm terminal with you?" Satisfied with the results, Persica left the screen to pour herself a cup of coffee. She turned her head with her disheveled hair around, and under her dark circles was a confused expression.

"I wanted to focus on the experiment, so I asked her to hold it for me." I reached out and took the terminal, "Who contacted me? Ah—could it be Miss Kalin calling me for a mission?!"
"Hmm... it's not Miss Counselor." The researcher frowned and thought for a moment.
"Oh... guess we'll get to it later." I immediately lost interest and handed the terminal back to her, "Persica, let's move on to the next test..."
"The contact seems to say... 45?"
"What?! I-I'll be right back!"
Persica raised her cup filled with her ever-so-sweet coffee with one hand and pulled the researcher away with the other to save her from bumping into me as I dashed out. But within two steps, I remembered that the researcher still had my terminal, and in a hurry to retrieve it, I still bumped into her.
I could hear Persica's voice from behind: "9! Come back ASAP, we're not done here yet!"
"Got it! I'll be back soon!"

I arrived at the only experimental farm in the laboratory, squatted down, and pulled at the tender leaves that had just sprouted. The program-controlled irrigation system started hissing, watering these precious plants.
After a lengthy electronic beep, 45 answered the call. But for some reason, I hesitated and didn't know what to say.
"Um, Sis, uh... Good morning, hehe♪"
"Are you still half-asleep? It's not morning anymore. Looks like you're doing well with Persica."
It was the familiar 45 that I knew. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"I saw 27 missed calls from you. What's the deal?"
"Well... actually, nothing. I just wanted to know how you're doing, Sis 45."
"Oh, you mean my injury from before? I almost forgot about that. You worry too much, 9."
"Seriously, I just care about you!"

On the other side, 45 seemed to have moved to a quieter place; the background noise had died down a lot.
"Thanks, 9. Kalin has been assigning me more routine tasks lately. Don't worry about me, just focus on helping Persica."
"So you don't have to fight anymore?"
"Not in the coming days, but honestly, I'd rather be fighting than doing what I'm doing right now."
45's words were mixed with the sound of the wind. She must be in a really tall building right now.
"Every day, I need to have endless and pointless conversations with different people, and the information I get is barely worth it..."
"Haha, that's definitely not something you would enjoy." I rested my chin on my knees, imagining what Sis 45 looked like doing those things.
"By the way, didn't you also handle some of these external communications before, 9? They were accomplished perfectly. Looks like you're pretty good at what you do."

The sound of wind and water suddenly stopped, it felt like my hearing module was turned off, with only one sentence echoing.
You. Are. Pretty. Good——
"...Liar."
"Huh?"
"45, did you just... praise me?"
"Why? It's not like I've never praised you before."
"Exactly, you never praised me much!" I held onto the terminal tightly, pressing my ear against it, "Sis, can you say it again?"
"..."
"45..."
"9, you've done a great job."

I was so happy.
My eyes felt warm, and something in my chest was melting.
"45, I will definitely—"

Definitely what?
Grow up and be able to help 45 and everyone better?
Or become a Doll as amazing as you, a trusted family member for Miss Kalina and the Commander...
The sound of the wind suddenly vanished, replaced by a bewildering electronic tune. The comm link had been cut.
I looked around and noticed the irrigation system had also abruptly stopped working. The screens that were supposed to display the experimental farm's data were flashing with dangerous red lights, and a piercing alarm echoed through the lab.

What's going on?
I tried to stand up, but my body suddenly stopped reacting, and I froze in a really awkward position.

I saw a temperature warning for the frame. It's so hot; something must've gone wrong.
The neural cloud... processing speed is... slowing down... is it... because of the experiment...
Oh, right, Persica! Yes... I need to find... Persica...

My vision went black as I slowly fell into darkness.

What... is...

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: H.I.D.E. 404
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: UMP9
Mission ID: █-█-Test#██
Status: Failed

Huh? Where am I? Why is it so dark?!
I-I... Did I go into hibernation mode? What's going on? I was fine during the self-diagnostic just now!
I jumped up from the bed in a panic, and a hand reached out from the side to press my shoulder.
"Are you awake? How are you feeling?"
"45? D-d-d-didn't you... Why are you here?"
"Haha... You sure do look quite energetic, you must be doing alright."
"Let's do a check anyway, just to be sure." Another hand reached out from the side and pushed me back onto the bed. It sounded like Persica. Then, I heard some strange noises from nearby instruments starting up.

"What's wrong with me? No experiments today?"
"9, what's the last thing you remember before waking up?"
"The last thing I remember..." I searched for the relevant information, "Was doing the routine neural backup that Persica requested in the preparation room before the experiment started...?"
Persica walked to the table, and I heard a bunch of sugar cubes clinking into her coffee. With her back to me, she said, "Well, seems like your neural record only goes until to this morning. Actually, the experiment is over. Or to put it more precisely, it was interrupted."
"Interrupted?"

Persica didn't answer my question but gulped down her coffee loudly, tilting her head back so much that I could almost see the tip of her nose. She didn't turn back to me until I heard the sound of liquid and sugar cubes hitting the cup again.
"Well, someone attacked the lab’s systems. We haven't figured out where the attack came from yet, and the method was pretty sophisticated... They were probably after the results of this experiment. Well, speaking of which, the experiment was actually a success." Persica casually glanced at the values on the instrument, then turned off the humming machine. "You had some issues too. It seems there was an error in one of the values, and thus energy kept building up, which eventually affected your frame's functionality... It would not normally be a big problem, as long as it was handled in time. However, you were outside communicating with 45 during that time... Because of the attack, the lab equipment was rendered useless, and I failed to handle it in time... Well, whatever. In the end, I had to change your frame. Speaking of which, how's the new frame feeling?"
Ugh, attack? Results? This is all too much right now!
"Wait a minute! You said... the experimental results were stolen?" I bolted up from the bed again, "Then, my plan to get stronger and help everyone won't work... Ugh!"
I got struck in the head by a karate chop.
"Worrying about so many things will only exhaust you."
"45... I'm seriously worried!"
"Yeah, I know, but even Persica isn't nearly as worried as you are."

Huh?
I turned my head to the other side. Persica, who was gulping down coffee, seemed to choke and coughed twice.
"Ahem—it's really not that serious." She waved her pale hand dismissively, "Although a lot of things were indeed stolen, the important research results and data have been backed up. I’ve confirmed that they are intact. Moreover, the data they stole also contained the 'special data' I prepared, which can't be decoded without special means. After what happened with the third-gen Doll technology, I'm far more cautious now."
I breathed a sigh of relief, my tense body relaxing as I leaned back on the pillow.
"Great, then let's continue the experiment tomorrow! We need to finish it early! ♪"
"Oh, about that..." Persica propped her chin up with her free hand, "9, you don't have to stay in the lab anymore. It's no longer necessary."
No longer necessary?
"What do you mean?"
"Huh? What do you think I mean?"
"I mean, does it mean that I'm... I'm..."
Useless?

No.
Everyone is growing and changing.
I don't want to be the Doll that stays in one place, can't help, and is only taken care of by my family.

"9, what's wrong?"
"Huh? I..."
Persica's eyes focused on my hands, and I realized they were shaking.
"Is the new frame not compatible? It shouldn't be, there haven't been any issues so far..." Persica muttered as she turned on the instrument again.

"No, it's not a problem with my frame!"
Persica looked at me quietly, puzzled by my unexpected outburst; I didn't expect it either.
The thoughts generated by my neural cloud are too complex for me to process. I should... Right, I need to explain myself first—find an excuse quickly so that 45 and Persica won't notice...

"What's wrong?"
Persica and I turned to the door at the same time. High heels clicked on the metal floor as Miss Kalina walked in.
"9, are you feeling alright?"
"She's doing well enough, but she seems to have eaten something bad," 45 shrugged with a dispassionate smile.
"Eaten something bad?"
"I-I'm fine! Thanks, Miss Kalin," I quickly waved off 45's joke. "So, is there something you need?"
"Yes, I came to bring you something." Miss Kalina placed a box on my lap. I opened it to find some black fabric with orange accents inside; my favorite color combination.

"Are these... clothes?"
"Yes, they're custom-made for you. Wear this uniform to work tomorrow."
"Work? You mean—" I looked at her in confusion.
"Hasn't Persica told you yet?" Miss Kalina raised an eyebrow. "Starting tomorrow, you'll be the specialist in charge of communications, coordination, and daily affairs, 9."
Communications... specialist... me? I don't quite get it, but is Miss Kalin saying I can still stay here? Stay here... as I always have.

"Why me?"
"Considering everyone's personality in 404, you're the best fit for this post. Besides, we need someone... trustworthy for this job. Of course, despite the mundane-sounding job title, there will still be situations where you need to fight, so you won't get bored."
"What about the lab tasks?"
"I've collected most of the data here, so I don't need you to assist with the experiments all the time. If necessary, you won't mind if I occasionally borrow you during your 'spare time', will you?"
I see. So that's what she meant.

"Ah... yeah, sure." I relaxed and flopped down, stretching out on the bed.
"But remember to make an appointment in advance, I'm really busy. ♪"
Oh, speaking of Persica, she mentioned something just now... um... what was it...
"Oh, right! Persica, you just said I was attacked while I was talking to 45, didn't you?"
"Huh? Yeah, that's right..."
"I didn't have time to upload my neural data, which means... I don't remember what I talked about with 45!" I grabbed 45 urgently, "What did we talk about? Can you tell me again? Please~"
"Nothing, just some boring everyday stuff." 45 pushed my shoulders and sat me back down, then shoved the box of clothes into my hands. "Try on the new outfit."
She's clearly trying to change the subject! I puffed up my cheeks and held the new clothes up to myself.
"Not bad... Haha, your current image does make you more suited for missions in the sun, 9~ ♪"
Image?? Aren't 45 and I pretty much the same in that regard?
"What's so special about my image?"
"Nothing really." Persica looked at me blankly.
"Hmm...?"
Miss Kalina handed me a hand mirror. Puzzled, I took it and held it up to my face.

"My scar! My scar is gone!"

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: H.I.D.E. 404
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: UMP9
Mission ID: █-█-Task#██
Status: In Progress

"How could this happen...?"

Miss Kalina hung up the call, rubbed her eyes, and watched me pace back and forth helplessly.
"9, you've been doing that for two hours. This is the third time today. It's been a month already, and you still haven't gotten used to your new frame?"
"But! But my scar is gone!" I pointed at my eye and emphasized loudly to Miss Kalin, "Now I don't look like 45 at all! With such a big change, will the Commander even recognize me?"
I pulled out the tactical knife I carry with me.
"Should I just cut it again... Maybe just one more cut... Ah yes... this time... it has to be in the same spot as 45's..."
The sliding door of the office suddenly opened.
"How long are you two going to dawdle?"

45, dressed in a suit, walked in and raised an eyebrow when she saw what I was holding.
"Are you planning to assassinate Kalin?"
"No way! I just want to—"
"Give yourself a scar again?"
Ugh... She saw right through me.
"On one hand... I want to grow and change... But if I become less like you, then I don't want to..." I lowered the knife in frustration.

The surroundings went quiet, and no one responded to what I said. Did... I make things awkward? No, no, I need to think of a way to smooth this over.
"Ahaha, I get it. ♪ 45, you're upset because you think if I make the cut, the Commander might mistake me for you, right? Ahaha..."
Ah! What am I even saying? Just... pretend I didn't say anything. Time to switch the subject—
"Let's hurry up and, um, get going—"
"Of course I'm upset, you idiot."

...Oh... I see...
"Yeah, haha, I knew it..."
But why is 45 upset...? Is it because she doesn't want the Commander to mistake me for her, or does she think I don't need to be like a sister to her, or... No, this isn't the time to think about that, I need to lighten the mood! I need to say something... Let me think—
Suddenly, 45 came over and flicked my forehead. I covered my forehead and saw her smiling face.
"Ha, I'm really jealous that you have a fully functional vision module, you know? ♪"
"Huh?"
That's not true! I had offered to help 45 fix her vision module before, but she refused.
"Just kidding."
"...I knew it... so that's how it is..." I tried to keep my tone casual, but it didn't quite work.
The words I absolutely shouldn't have said suddenly spilled out, and I couldn't stop myself.
"I've always known that you kept me around only because I was useful, 45. I could liven things up for 404 and pull my weight during team operations. But now that the team is broken up, I'm not... worth keeping—"
"You really are the cutest, 9."
45 pinched my cheek.
"...Huh?"
What did 45 just say?
"You're cute, you're good at lightening the mood, and you're so approachable. I'm no match for you when it comes to such things even if I tried. Honestly, no one is better suited for the role of a ’communications specialist’ than you. Without you, Kalin and I would be in big trouble."
"Ah—ah... No, no, 45, you're exaggerating..."
My neural processing speed seems to have slowed down, and I feel a bit dizzy.
Um... Does 45 mean that I'm actually useful?

"Alright, I'm confiscating the dangerous item."
Ah, while I was deep in thought, 45 snatched away my knife.
"Besides, isn't Persica's experiment still ongoing? The damage to your vision module would affect the experiment, right?" Miss Kalina, who seemed to have no intention of joining the conversation earlier, suddenly chimed in while putting some documents into her handbag, "Speaking of which, 9, how's the progress on Persica's end?"
Distracted by Miss Kalina's question, I didn't have time to continue analyzing the meaning behind 45's words, but the feeling of peace and warmth did remain in my neural cloud.
"Ah—about the experiment, Persica said it's almost in the final adjustment stage. ♪"
Miss Kalina let out a smile that reminded me of how she used to be, which made me relax.
"It looks like it won't be long before the Com—uh, 'the person Miss Kalin has been keeping an eye on'—can use it too, heheh! ♪"
Oh, Miss Kalina turned her head away. ♪
But I know, Miss Kalin will definitely say in a very calm tone—

"I haven't decided whether to give it to them yet. After all, this kind of cutting-edge technology might be hard for a bounty hunter to afford."
Ha, I guessed it right!
I really have grown up. ♪

45 shook her head, put the knife back into its sheath, and tapped the clock on the table: "If we don't leave now, I suggest we might as well just skip the meeting."
"Then let's go." Miss Kalin let her hair down and re-tied it, put on her coat, and walked out briskly.
"9, contact the counselor. We have a new plan for what we discussed last time. I'll reorganize the relevant materials... Can you set up a face-to-face meeting? Is that okay?"
"Yeah! Of course. ♪"
"Communication specialist"—that's a job only I can do!
Now that I think about it, in the future, when it's necessary, will Miss Kalin send me to talk to the Commander?

The three of us were walking through the tall office building. The sun was about to set below the horizon, and the city lights were gradually coming on.
"You seem to have undergone some change, 9?" Miss Kalin smiled.
I scratched my head.
"Well... heheh, it's a good change, right, Miss Kalina? ♪"

I turned my head to look at her and noticed the three of us reflected in the glass window.
The afterglow of the setting sun spread over our figures. Miss Kalin's meticulously tied-up hair, her fingertips covering her smile, and 45's flowing hair and black suit all danced with a tint of warm orange from the setting sun.
They've changed a lot compared to before.

Have I possibly grown too...?
That would be great.

No matter how much time passes or how everyone changes, I'll always, always follow behind and bring our lost family members back.
If change is the only way to protect my home and my family, I'll do my best.
I will definitely do it.
Because—I love you all so much! ♪

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Incomplete Heart

Summary

The story is linked to Dusty Memories#In the Firelight.

Vepley is a performing Doll from the government-backed idol show program. The program was meant to raise the morale of workers in the Green Zone, but is cancelled after disgruntled workers caused a shootout during a show. Even when shot at, Vepley's one-track mind only thinks about putting on a good show and making people happy. Her short stint in customer service at the Vehicle Administration Bureau is ruined by her irrepressible need to put on shows. Vepley is sold to the Underground Brokers to make use of her fire control core, but still causes trouble by putting on impromptu shows, especially since the brokers won't trust a former URNC Doll. Vepley ends up in the possession of the broker Saga, who does appreciate her singing, for about half a year, but Saga eventually can't afford her upkeep and resells her the Commander due to their reputation as a good Doll owner.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: ██D/2071(III) Resolution Implementation Team, Cooperation Promotion Office, Cultural Development Agency, Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Vepr-12
Squad ID: 11th Implementation Squad
Pilot City: STU-03
Status: In Progress

Wow, so this is what it feels like to ride a drone☆ So fun!
W-Wait a minute! If the drone suddenly tilts——
"Hey! You! Stop pulling on my hair!"
"Sorry... Vepley almost fell, thanks for saving Vepley!"
"If I had a choice, I'd rather see you fall."
"Huh? If that happens, Vepley would be injured..."
Phew, we made it to the venue safely.

Today is Vepley's first live performance☆
While I did double-check that both dance moves and audio output systems were all in order, I'm still getting nervous. Which is why I ended up slipping while getting on stage and tripped my companion in the process, hehe.
Vepley's hair also got tangled up in her headpiece! Oops. I fumbled with it for a while, but luckily my friends stepped in to help me.
The start wasn’t the greatest, but we managed to wrap things up nicely.
After the show, that girl scolded me for ages...
She has such a cute face... but her words were so harsh! Saying things like, "That clumsy, energetic, try-hard persona is out of style." ...Vepley will never be unpopular!
"Unpopular? What's your name again... Vepley, right? Having a dream is nice. Maybe you should start writing a diary. If one day you get famous, you'll have material for an idol documentary."
"Oh... you're right!"
Despite being a little mean and hard to get along with, she's really smart☆ Okay, let's start writing a diary!

Today's debut wasn't quite what Vepley imagined.
The concert stage was set on a mechanical lift installed right against a building's outer wall; it was super eye-catching! But there wasn't much of an audience watching... lots of cars passed by, but everyone seemed to be in a hurry. Even if they noticed us, they just took a quick glance and left.
Everyone's mood index picked up by Vepley was also pretty low... Hugh, maybe it's because they're busy with work? Life’s harsh, but Vepley will cheer everyone on☆
Though, greeting and interacting with no one around felt just like our rehearsals, so Vepley gradually stopped feeling nervous, and instead was in great shape!
Oh, by the way, I saw a little boy during the performance. He was the only one filled with joy that Vepley saw today! I think he's about... four or five years old? He was completely absorbed in the performance, and when his mom arrived to pull him away, he looked upset and tried to break free from her.
Hahaha, that's not okay, you have to listen to your mom☆
Vepley waved at him, took off the bow on my wrist, and tossed it at him. After receiving the gift, he smiled through his tears and waved back at Vepley. He then let his mom carry him away without making a fuss. So cute!
Grow up well and come see the show again. Vepley will definitely remember you, because you were Vepley's only audience member today☆

"2397... 2397? Vepley?!"
Huh? The manager's calling for Vepley!
"What are you giggling at? Get over here!"
"Vepley was just reminiscing about the joyful things that happened today! Hehe, sorry☆"
When that kid was watching our performance with bright eyes and a happy smile, Vepley really liked it☆ Idols really can bring joy to others!
"Joyful? Are you... Forget it, just do your job well."
Hmm... In the manager's words, it was... "To entertain humans"? That must mean bringing joy to others!
Anyway, being an idol is just so great☆ I also want to thank the manager for giving Vepley this chance!
"Mr. Manager, thank you so much☆"
"...Huh?"
Vepley wants to keep performing and bring joy to everyone!
Alright, it's been decided☆

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: ██D/2071(III) Resolution Implementation Team, Cooperation Promotion Office, Cultural Development Agency, Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Vepr-12
Squad ID: 11th Implementation Squad
Pilot City: STU-03
Status: Failed

I went to a new place today! It's a city I've never been to before☆
I could see the snow-capped mountains in the distance from the stage venue! That was the first time Vepley had seen real snow-capped mountains, and they were so majestic☆ I guess that's the formidable might of nature.
This place felt very different from where I'd been before, maybe it was the... atmosphere? The style of the streets and buildings were also very different, and the most amazing thing was that the residents here only showed up at night!
So the performance was scheduled for the evening too.

The performance started on time today too☆
Hehe, this time, Vepley bumped into the girl in front of me a few times while dancing, and it happened to be that sharp-tongued Doll! She glared at me several times... I think she got mad... I need to remember to apologize to her after the show.
When the show was about halfway through, we got into formation for the next song "Morning Dream☆TIME!", but just as the intro started, that Doll suddenly collapsed.
Huh? That wasn't part of the show's script?
After she fell on her back, she stopped moving, and it looked like her body functions had stopped. There was a smoking hole on her forehead... Was she shot...? W-What do I do, what do I do in this situation... The show must go on; it can’t stop!

The plan we rehearsed before was... move left, one, two, then forward, here! Just in time to cover her spot.
Huh? From this angle, I could see someone in the audience holding a rifle.
Could he also be a Doll? But guns aren't allowed on stage☆ The Manager specifically reminded us of that.
...Wait! His mood index... it was low! How could it be that low?
And the reflections on his face... are those...
Was he... crying?
This won't do! Vepley had to perform her best! Make him happy!
Just when I wanted to take a closer look, my vision module was hit by a bullet from his rifle, and just like that, Vepley's observations concluded.
Then, I heard my companions falling one after another, and all kinds of other noises filling the air. I believe I heard...

"Shut up! Liars... You bunch of liars! You tricked me... This damn place! I've lost everything! My money... House... Kids... EVERYTHING. Everything is gone! What do I have now? Just work, endless work! And being humiliated! I'm a human too!"
"I was just two minutes late! And you bastards fired me! YOU CUNTS! I've lost my job... Now I have to work for the gang! Who knows when I'll die!"
"Haha... So, you all should die together... TOGETHER! HAHAHA! Die together!"

Hmm... Was it because his new job was too exhausting? Yeah, a job that requires risking your life must be really stressful... But after watching Vepley's performance, they should feel happy, right?

Ah no, that's not right. The most important thing now was to protect the audience...
Guns, we need guns! Where's the staff in charge of firearms...
Is that the exit marker? It should be a bit more to the right...
Ah, I've found the stairs! Vepley, get up quickly and cover the audience's evacuation!
Luckily, there weren't many people in the venue. Vepley will protect everyone☆

Although the casualties were kept to a minimum, the show still got cancelled, and we had to board the drone and head home.
The broken body of that sharp-tongued Doll was also loaded and placed next to Vepley. Poor thing, Vepley will have to protect her from now on!
I poked the hole in her forehead, it looked like all her functions had completely ceased. In this state... she's...
Are things like this happening in other parts of the world too...? Right now, are there people getting hurt or feeling sad... If there was no sadness, would things like this even happen?
Yes! Vepley will continue to work hard as an idol and bring happiness to everyone!
Although it might not be possible right now, Vepley won't give up. The world needs Vepley as an idol, and just thinking about that fills me with motivation☆
Yes, it's decided☆ Once Vepley's singing can bring happiness to people, I'll come back here to perform again and cheer up that guy with the gun! After all, an idol can't just ignore a crying fan!

"...2397? Vepley! Get over here!"
Oh, we've arrived!
"Hehe, Mr. Manager☆ Vepley is thinking, I need to work hard from now on! The next performance—"
"Next? ...Hmph, there won't be a next time!"

Huh?

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Coordination Support Department (Temporary), Government Doll Service Support Center, ████ Oblast, Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Vepr-12
Service Unit: Vehicle Administration Bureau Citizen Service Hall
Status: In Progress

So Mr. Manager was lying to me after all!
I can still perform! Only, the performance now entails just bowing☆
I've bowed 23 times already and each one of them was perfect! Vepley’s worked really hard today☆
It's been a while since I started working here. Now, I have an extra duty: To greet citizens who come for assistance and help them out.
Yeah! Receptionist No. 4387 Vepley is always ready to perform... I mean, to help☆
It's not that different if you think about it! Vepley will still bring joy to everyone! Hehe☆
I wonder how that Doll who speaks so harshly is doing. Has she made any friends at her new place? Hmm... might it be a bit tough for her? Anyway, I hope everything goes well!

Ah, someone else is coming in!
Hmm? That guy... Although everyone who comes here is troubled in one way or another, it's rare to see someone with such a deep frown.
He's walking towards here... Hehe☆ Vepley is ready to help him! Vepley hasn’t seen such a low mood index in a while, so Vepley must cheer him up!
"Receptionist No. 4387, Vepley at your service. How can I help you, sir☆"
This gentleman seems very disturbed and speaks incoherently, rambling about his car being borrowed, being used for transporting contraband, and now he’s being detained and so on... Wow, sounds like a really rough day.
To cheer him up, Vepley decided to use her ultimate move—Ta-da! A unique performance just for him! A one-of-a-kind special service!

But before I can even get to the chorus, he interrupts me.
"What... what the hell are you doing? Are you here to help me or not? I paid taxes just for you to dance?"
He looks extremely angry and calls over the lady in charge of the hall.
He then even scolds the lady in charge, using words like ’ridiculous’ and ’negligence’. But Vepley wasn't neglecting my duty... Making everyone happy is Vepley's job!
No matter what, an idol can't just ignore a saddened fan! If he doesn't like dancing... Vepley can give him a big, warm, and happy hug☆

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Vepley's face is forcefully shoved back by his hand.
"Huh? Vepley just wanted to give you—"
"Vepley, go back to the prep room for now."
The lady in charge sounds a bit anxious? But Vepley has yet to finish her work... Hmm, maybe the lady in charge has better ways to cheer him up?
"No problem☆"
It'd be great if he can perk up next time!

But, looking at it now, today's performance is probably a failure, right? It didn't bring him any joy... Was Vepley's performance not good enough?
Maybe... I failed to notice what kind of show the audience wanted to see...
Alright! Starting today, I'll work twice as hard!
Can't forget your goal of bringing joy to everyone with your performances, Vepley!

I waited in the prep room for a long time before the lady in charge finally came back.
She rubs her temples, looking a bit upset?
"Are you feeling down, Miss? Do you want Vepley to help you—"
"Vepley, you've been discarded."
"Discarded? Does that mean Vepley is getting a new work location?"
The lady in charge remains silent for a moment.
"...Sort of. The section chief thinks that the procedure of clearing your data and reshaping your neural cloud is too troublesome, so they've decided to just order a new service Doll... So, Vepley, we have to say goodbye."
"Alright! Vepley will do her best in the new place☆ So, please don't be sad."
Hmm? The lady in charge seems to hesitate for a moment, a strange look lingering on her face.
"...Well, if you can always stay like this, then... it might not be that bad."
Always like this? What does she mean... Don't worry! Vepley won't change no matter what.

What will the new place be like? Vepley is so excited!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Underground Broker ██
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Vepr-12

The new place is really awesome! Vepley is super happy to be here and has met a lot of managers!
Speaking of which, some managers wanted Vepley to call them things like "Your Excellency," "Boss" or "Master"... But Vepley thought they were the same as "manager". "Master" should be reserved for someone more special... Vepley doesn't get it either! Anyway, I will still call them "managers"!

Today, the weather was unusually nice☆ The kind of sunshine that was perfect for getting pumped and working hard! Even though it only lasted for half a day, hehe☆ In the afternoon, it got all dusty again. Unpredictable weather like this must be nature's way of showing off! Hmm... right?
But Vepley's hard work isn't limited to just half a day☆
I was suuuuuuper happy today! It's been so long since I was able to put on an outdoor performance! And in a new place that I've never been to at that!
All thanks to the new manager☆
The previous manager not only took Vepley to perform everywhere but also helped Vepley adjust her frame's hydraulics and fire-control core. Although some parts were a bit worn out, they helped enhance the dynamism of my dances! Which means—Ta-da! Vepley can learn new performance styles now!

Today, Vepley was helping the new manager with some transportation and escort jobs in the Yellow Zone! Such a small task was too easy for the excellent Vepley. Just keep an eye on the supplies and make sure they don't get stolen!
Huh? Those people looking over here, I think I saw them yesterday. Hmm, they talked to the manager last night... They must live nearby! And they seem really unhappy... Their mood index... Whoa! It’s really low!
If those are unhappy people, Vepley couldn't just ignore them! After all, Vepley’s decided to be an idol that brings joy to the whole world!
So, was there any way to cheer them up?
Hehe, the genius Vepley’s got it, and that was of course, through a cutesy idol's live performance! Ehe☆

Vepley used a supply box as a stage and sang the song "WAKE UP! Midnight Daydream", but... their reaction didn't seem very enthusiastic, and their mood didn't really improve... Though, it didn't get worse either...

"W-What's this hunk of metal doing?"
One of them seemed to have said that. He was wearing a respirator, so he sounded kind of cute!
"Vepley’s putting up an improvised performance just for you!"
Vepley spun around and struck a pose☆
"Is her neural cloud infected with a virus?"
Hmm? Still no increase in their mood index...
"Perhaps you don't like this style?" It was really popular at the last venue... But Vepley won’t be discouraged! Listening to fans and fulfilling their wishes is Vepley's job☆
"What style of song do you want to hear? Vepley can sing anything☆ What's wrong? Don't you know what 'style' means?"
"What are you talking about, you hunk of junk—"
"Hey, hold on a second!"
His best buddy grabbed him. Were they trying to decide what song to request?
Vepley sat on the supply box, deciding to wait for them to figure it out. Well, being patient with fans is something an idol should do!

"I think I know her. She used to perform in a satellite city."
"So what? She's just a busted Doll."
"You don't get it! She was a URNC Doll back then! Used for promotional performances!"

The crowd went quiet for a moment. Vepley thought they had come to a consensus, but just as she was about to ask, they started muttering again.
Alright, patience! Vepley will wait a bit longer☆

"If she's still—"
"Bullshit! How could the URNC reach here! Think about it, when have those cowards ever paid attention to us?"
"Exactly. We're not like those Varjager bastards causing trouble everywhere we go. All we do is just take some supplies with us. You think those spineless wimps will come to a dump like this to mess with us?"
"But—"
"But my ass! You coward, get lost if you're scared!"
"So, let's do it?"
"Yes?"
"Hurry the fuck up!"

Whoa whoa whoa☆ When they suddenly rushed over, Vepley was startled! Hmm, they seemed to really love interactive performances.
Alright, this time, Vepley’s totally got it!
"So you guys like this style! No problem☆"
Okay, let me see... ah! Good thing I brought the gun the manager gave me, otherwise this would be a headache, hehe☆
"But Vepley isn't too familiar with this style of performance yet☆ If I mess up... Ah!"
Vepley accidentally threw the supplies out as gifts...
"Vepley?! What are you doing?! My supplies! I knew her price was too cheap to be true. Turns out she's just junk!"

Even though I got scolded by the manager later, I was really happy to help those who were feeling down and made them happy!
Looked like people here preferred more intense and interactive performances, Vepley got that!
I'll work hard to practice and get better as soon as possible☆
Then I'll come back here and perform for them again, since today's show got interrupted by the manager...
Seems like Vepley's performances always get interrupted? Like, I never get to go back to places where I said I wanted to perform again...
No way! Cheer up, Vepley! It's not time to give up yet!
As long as I keep trying, I can definitely bring happiness to everyone and go on tour again! Yes☆That's the spirit!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Underground Broker Saga
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Vepr-12

Today marks, um, the 173rd day since I got here!
Uwah☆ It's already been 173 days! This is the first time I've stayed in one place for so long without changing venues!
Since I came here, I haven't had many chances to tour different places... but there are people here who need Vepley! And☆ Vepley really likes it here because the audience loves interacting with Vepley during performances!
Though the audience here is very demanding... If Vepley's voice goes over 50 decibels, or if she breaks something while dancing, or tries a new move, the performance gets interrupted by their interactions, and Vepley gets lectured... They're really strict!
And no matter how hard Vepley tries, they always seem angry, like they'll never be happy...

"Vepley! It's you again! Get down here quickly! Saga—where's Saga?"

Saga is Vepley's... um... master? Not quite... maybe manager? Master is a special term, and Vepley hasn't decided to use it yet! Plus, Saga doesn't like Vepley calling her that!
But, unlike the previous managers, Saga really loves Vepley's performances!
Even though Saga shows a bit of distress and says "no singing" during public performances, if Vepley occasionally sings just for her, she looks happy and her mood index goes up.
"Vepley, you're quite capable, aren't you?"
Hehe☆ Saga must really like Vepley!

Saga once asked Vepley why she always wanted to perform.
"Well, it's because there are people who are feeling down and need Vepley! Vepley wants to bring happiness to everyone! That's an idol's job☆"
"Oh... In that case, wouldn't it be better to have a place where you can sing freely? Besides, your body’s all worn out, and repairing it is a big issue..."
A place where I can sing freely? That sounds awesome! That way, I can keep improving my performances.
There will be one... There definitely will be! Once Vepley meets the real "master"!
Even though it's not possible here right now, maybe it will be in the future!
Vepley will never give up☆

Ah, that... that's Saga, right? The people with her... I haven't seen them before. New audience members? Are they Saga's friends? One, two... five people?
And that blue-haired kid looks so down, Vepley’s noticed it all!
Alright! For this performance, Vepley is going to give it her all to make Saga and her friends happy!
Vepley can definitely do it☆
Alright, let's get started!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Burial Grounds

Summary

After Griffin & Kryuger's restructuring, ^AR OTs-14OTs-14OTs-14 was requisitioned by Statesec and assigned to their Criminal Investigation and Response Department and takes the name Groza. Her missions brings her in contact with “Red Onion”, a mysterious contraband product. Persica uses clandestine communication networks to ask Groza to share any information about it, and warns her to be cautious as she'd rather not lose more of her protégés. Constrained by her mission objectives, Groza is sent to investigate the body frames of Dolls decommissioned while investigating Red Onion, and falls victim to the same memory-wiping program.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, Doll Coordination and Management Office, Criminal Investigation and Response Department, Public Security Management Section, RS57 Class Action Team ██
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: OTs-14
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day 7
Status: In Progress

I've arrived at the mission area.
It's freezing here.
Dolls can't directly feel the temperature, but by observing changes in my body's parameters, it's clear that the current temperature is below -20℃.
In such conditions, we need to keep our frame's temperature at a certain level to ensure that our modules don't malfunction due to the cold.

"I really want a spoonful of ████ in this cold weather."
Who said that?
Dolls who don't have gustatory modules installed obviously have no interest in food.
"If we make it back alive, let's have some liver pâté and red wine and warm up with a big meal."
Dolls don't—or rather, they don't need to—eat in order to stay "warm."
But considering how they usually did things—
"Alcohol will damage your digestive system."
That's what I should have said back then.
The human body is a fragile thing, and it breaks easily.
But still, they survived that mission and even completed their objective.
At this point, their face becomes clear in my mind. I can see that slightly disheveled look when most of their supplies and fighting power were gone and they couldn't contact Griffin.
Meanwhile, after being stuck in the snow for so long, strange cravings began to surface.
What did that soup taste like?

Right now, are they in a similar position, shivering in the snow to stay warm?
No... that person wouldn't let themselves end up in such a miserable state.
"If we meet again in the future, perhaps we could continue working together."
That invitation was probably nothing more than an empty courtesy.

At that time, I was unaware of what would happen to Griffin next.
In retrospect, the Commander's departure was merely the beginning.

Shortly thereafter, everything changed all of a sudden.
Quickly, Dolls like me who were employed by Griffin were taken over by Statesec and assigned to tasks such as crimefighting and other miscellaneous duties.
Perhaps resigning and joining them would be a good idea.
Well, if I were forced to resign, at least.

Activity from mission objective detected.
Time to get to work.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, Doll Coordination and Management Office, Criminal Investigation and Response Department, Public Security Management Section, RS57 Class Action Team ██
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: OTs-14
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day 10
Status: In Progress

The mission went smoothly.
All mission objectives were achieved—and we only lost 1 SST-type frame and 1 SSD-type frame.
The Dolls we lost were part of Statesec's main "Yeti" team. Looks like I'll get blamed for "poor cover" again.
But honestly, in that situation, it would have been inefficient to sacrifice myself to provide better cover.

The evacuation started at 0323hrs.

I found a tuft of red hair under a pile of collapsed rocks.
Yes... I recognize this color. It belonged to a girl with freckles on her face.
The first time we met in this town, she was trying to sell me something.
"Miss, would you like to try some fresh red onions?"
Were those newly cultivated ingredients? So even residents in the contaminated areas...
Although I was a bit curious, I declined her offer since I didn't have a place or tools to cook, nor did I know anyone who was qualified to taste and give feedback on my cooking.
I didn't expect her to keep pestering me.
"S-Since you're a beautiful lady, you can try it for free and only pay if you're happy with them! This is a one-of-a-kind special service!"
It took some effort to shake her off.

We met again outside the target's base.
She pointed a beat-up handgun at me. I raised my gun, and her bullet hit the wall to my right, about twenty inches away from me.
I wanted to avoid human casualties, but she seemed to be hysterical.
"Please, just... just die, okay?! That way, I can-"
That was as far as she went, because she was hit by several ricochetting shots.
"Groza, what are you doing? Take out the enemy and provide cover for the operation!"
My companion's covering fire went right through her frail, broken body, leaving a few scars on my frame. Fortunately, minor distractions like these were not enough to affect the mission's outcome.
As for why that girl attacked me, I had no idea. I guess she was involved in the dealings of the mission objective.

Mission complete.
RTB at 0600hrs.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, Doll Coordination and Management Office, Criminal Investigation and Response Department, Public Security Management Section, RS57 Class Action Team ██
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: OTs-14
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day 12
Status: In Progress

0623hrs, boarding procedure completed.
Estimated return duration: 4 hours and 43 minutes.

During transit, I discovered a message from a familiar Doll.

I had intended to utilize this time to compile the mission report. However, due to the excessive auditory output from a neighboring Doll in sleep mode, I was unable to complete the task efficiently.
The rationale behind equipping Tactical Dolls with snoring functionality eludes my understanding.
Feeling mildly agitated, and with mission communication restrictions lifted, I opted to review the messages received during the blackout period. It was then that I discovered her communiqué amidst several routine transmissions from Statesec.

While we had collaborated during our tenure at Griffin, she seldom reached out since our departure, and she only does so particularly via the clandestine information relay network.
If memory serves, this illicit service remains somewhat unreliable and exorbitantly priced.

"You may have encountered a certain term frequently in your recent assignments... Red Onion. I trust you've heard of it." After brief pleasantries, she addressed the matter directly.
Upon reflection, her statement proves accurate.
"If my suspicions are correct, Red Onion might be something far more perilous... No, let's await more conclusive intelligence."
Her characteristically composed tone and ever-rational mindset remain unchanged.
"Should you acquire any pertinent information, please relay it through this channel."
"Groza, this time... I cannot bear to lose another I've sworn to protect."
"Exercise caution, Groz—dul&（a:）[d=;&warnin—"

The transmission was abruptly terminated.
This anomaly is disconcerting.
Under Statesec protocols, autonomous action is prohibited. Naturally, I lack the clearance to contact her department or access her itinerary.
The message was received several days prior—
Whatever transpired, I find myself currently confined to this drone, filled with incessant snoring, utterly powerless to act.
I endeavor to maintain composure.

Our circumstances have altered significantly.
Impulsive action would only serve to jeopardize her position—and mine.

Perhaps, the only form of recourse is...

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, Doll Coordination and Management Office, Criminal Investigation and Response Department, Public Security Management Section, RS57 Class Action Team ██
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: OTs-14
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day █
Status: In Progress

Mission commencement scheduled for 0017hrs.

57 communication attempts made to private channel ████. Success rate: 0%.
Despite mounting concern and perplexity, departure is now imperative.

0830hrs: Drone transport to mission coordinates.
Estimated flight duration: 1 hour 15 minutes.

As per standard protocol, given the mission's classification level and my clearance, mission briefing was delivered at the eleventh hour.
Mission designation... Red Onion?

Objective: Confiscation of contraband materials. Primary force: Doll squad "Straw" of State Security. My role: Provide cover and auxiliary support.
Not a high-difficulty assignment. In fact, it was rather typical of State Security commissions. While less demanding and hazardous compared to Griffin-era operations, that wasn’t necessarily an advantage it had.

Reviewing mission parameters once more.
No additional intelligence on "Red Onion" uncovered.

Recalling a recent exchange, I note an anomaly.
"Miss, care to sample the latest Red Onion?"
"Free trial available. Payment only upon satisfaction!"
Hypothesis: Red Onion is contraband? If it's merely about illicit goods, what's with all those reminders to be cautious?
Insufficient data for conclusive analysis.

Initiating comms request to private channel ████.
Connection attempt... No response.

Initiating comms request to central control.
Connection established.
Familiar interface detected. Likely a staff member assigned to ex-Griffin Doll management. Probability of acquiring valuable intelligence: Minimal.
Requesting additional mission-related information.
"All pertinent mission data has been transmitted," they respond with an insincere smile. "For further details, perhaps you should conduct your own investigation? For an ex-Griffin Doll, this should be trivial."
...As anticipated.
Subsequent inquiry regarding her schedule information.
The subject's attention diverts. They yawn, perusing a document: "Please state the purpose for this information request."
Assessing the subject's reluctance to disclose this information, I feign signal instability and terminate the connection.

Current priority: Focus on the mission. Extraneous concerns to be addressed post-return. Given the present circumstances, total frame damage may preclude future reactivation.
"In that respect, not unlike humans..."
The drone misinterprets self-directed vocalization as operational input. It issues an alert, reiterating the predetermined route's immutability.

The route can't be changed.
So, as a Doll, even if I have doubts about the mission...
Is the route I walk something that can't be changed?

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... che[b,a=&-

Authenticating... Permission check... accpale(b;!
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, Doll Coordination and Management Office, Criminal Investigation and Response Department, Public Security Management Section, RS57 Class Action Team ██
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: OTs-14
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day █
Status: In Progress

As anticipated, no overt correlations were discernible.

I find myself seated amidst a collection of decommissioned Doll frames. Having concluded my analysis of residual neural data within them, I terminate the data transfer.
These Dolls served as sentries at the mission's focal point. A thorough examination of their neural data should, in theory, yield intelligence pertaining to "Red Onion."
I've managed to extract minimal residual neural data. However, its pristine condition is disquieting—excessively so. It bears the hallmarks of... sanitization?
—Though not without oversight, as some fragments remain.

The communications device continually relays updates on the primary unit's movements.
Expeditious disposal of Doll remnants is imperative, as is the obfuscation of my access trail.

Acquired data has been transferred to my neural recording module. Contingent upon my safe return, I shall endeavor to relay this data to Pa—

Objective attained.
Mission successful.
Mission s-successful.
Mission succe—gol&(a=;)
Mission succe-ce-cessfull.
Mission—
Failed.
Mission failed.
The communication device echoes with successive alerts of neural signal loss from my associates.
Unfamiliar emotional responses inundate my cognitive processes.

Apprehension?
Trepidation?
Disillusionment?
Unable to decipher.
Cognitive anomaly detected.

I register my own voice, tinged with bewilderment.
Mission failure implies—
"...is... immi..."

Decommissioning is imminent.

Journal entry module... Initialization of formatting protocol...
...Formatting in progress...
...
...
...
-kan&;[kar=!-

Regional module... Deactivating... Complete

Physical diagnostic... Complete
System diagnostic... Complete
Neural cloud... upl&(b=!
Authorization... Confirmed
Weapons control system... Deactivating... Complete
Topography DM... Deactivated
Cognitive NSS... Deactivated
Frame temperature... Decreasing... Cooling cycle complete
Visual feed... Deactivating... Complete
Remaining power... 72%
Power unit... Initiating shutdown... Deactivating...

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, Doll Coordination and Management Office, Criminal Investigation and Response Department, Public Security Management Section, RS57 Class Action Team ██
Frame Model: SST-05A2
Imprint Model: OTs-14
Status: Deactivated

"Hmm? ...Groza? What brings you here?"
As my optical sensors reinitialize, I find before me—

Rabbit Observation Diary

Summary

Peritya is a former Special Ops T-Dolls from Statesec. She pursues a mission unknown to her, as the briefing file in her Neural Cloud is impossible to decrypt, and wanders in hope of finding information but regularly looses memory segments due to a malfunctioning neural cloud. Peritya is also a peculiar Doll who is easily bored by the cyclical nature of the artificial world, wants to observe interesting and unpredictable things, regularly turns off her sensory modules when she finds the world too noisy and in one occasion attempts to hack into the sun to dim it. One of Peritya's few leads is Krolik, whom she sees again when the Elmo crew visits ODE-01 to meet with Kalina. Peritya secretly helps Krolik to get into the city, but leaves clues of her presence to elicit interesting reactions from her. But because to the difficulty of surviving in the Yellow Zone, Peritya decides not to follow Krolik once she leaves ODE-01.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... *(&*gft?:<#No abnormalities
Frame function check... Damage to 10% of components; right side visual module requiring industrial KH5 lens replacement
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... ##￥{}K6@Suc&Successful
Warning: This module may display loading errors

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, ██████████ Special Ops Team ██
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: PKP-SP
Mission ID: █-█-█
Status: In progress?

Journal entry ID: ODE-16-██2
Journal status: data corruption rate: 5%

Standard Time 14:27:06, Satellite City ODE-16, light rain, clearing.
The rain lasted for half an hour, as usual, every four days.
The temperature was 15 degrees Celsius. The right visual module detected light intensity between 400 lumens and 3000 lumens. The visual feed flickered and occasionally had a net-pattern disturbance. The left visual module was intact.
I used the right-hand terminal effector to remove the industrial lens from the right visual module. The right visual module halted its function, reducing overall visual system efficiency to 80% of original capacity.

"Every time it rains, it lasts for half an hour. Aren't you a bit... lacking in imagination?"

I sat under the eaves with my chin in my hand, staring at the huge screen in the city's public square using the intact visual detection module on my left side. I asked quietly, and the huge screen responded with an advertisement promoting a video game.
The advertisement played on a loop. After staring at it for three minutes, I got up and headed to the public square.
Just then, the fog in the area cleared, and the sunlight shined down unobstructed.
In my visual range, there were only three types of things: machinery, buildings, and humans. Everything is completely man-made, and I am no exception.
In the Green Zone, I had observed similar things hundreds of times. I raised my hand to partially cover my left visual module, using my fingers to segment my vision into sections, almost as if I was observing the outside world from a prison window... But after my brief interest faded, my eyes still saw a dull, mechanical world—everything here was the same yesterday, today, and would be the same tomorrow—except for the occasional change in the sunshine overhead.
Anything non-artificial can only have their general behavior predicted, and anything beyond that prediction can easily bring a sense of freshness to the observer.

I am an artificial creation, but I am different from other such things.
Although almost every artificial object can pique an observer's interest at first glance, most of them are shallow in nature, only ideal for superficial interactions.
When I encounter these things, whether I become curious or quickly lose interest, my neural cloud never issues any clear commands.

When I begin to lose interest, I move to other areas and look for any new events that might happen. I then observe, record, evaluate, and... take any actions that may help complete the mission. Like filming relevant footage, or observing from a rooftop with a better view. Videos—I might forget what I need to do next, but the content in the footage, once recorded, doesn't change. As long as the footage is still there, as long as I can remember that the footage exists—
All of this is for the sake of missions. But... what are missions...?
...The mission has always been there, stored in the encrypted area of my neural records. The moment I go through my neural records, I will find it.
But... what exactly is the mission?
It's there, in that directory, inaccessible, undecipherable, undeletable.
...It's an encrypted file that I can't do anything with, yet it takes up part of my neural space.
I don't like encrypted files. Except the ones I encrypt myself.

Where should I go? I pull up the traffic map, randomly circle an area, assign numbers to each specific location, and make a random selection within ten seconds. The countdown ends, it's a digital entertainment venue. Without hesitation, I head there.
As I walked past the bench where I often sat down for a break, I visual module caught something that looked familiar. It was tucked under the bench, with one of its dark blue corners peeking out.
Is that... a notebook? The edges of the pages were curled, and since it had just rained, the dark blue cover looked almost black.

I reached down and pulled it out from under the bench, getting my hands all wet. I flipped through it, from back to front, seeing a sentence on the last page—This item belongs to Peritya.
...It's mine?
...Some images flashed through my mind, and as they became clearer, I realized this was the notebook I lost about half a month ago. I kept flipping through it, and found more than a dozen pages filled with strange symbols—
Lightning, rabbit ears of all shapes, masks, some unreadable lines, and the word "Commander" surrounded by question marks...
What happened half a month ago? The logbook was flipped to the page with the first rabbit ear symbol, and some images flashed in my mind. Back then—

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check...&%@**》: {No abnormalities!}
Frame function check... Damage to 15% of components; right side visual module requiring industrial KH5 lens replacement
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading...@*9d《#(function
Warning: This module may display loading errors

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, ██████████ Special Ops Team ██
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: PKP-SP
Mission ID: █-█-█
Status: In progress?

Journal entry ID: ODE-16-██3
Journal status: data corruption rate: 7%

I pulled up the command interface and entered the command to access neural records from 15 to 30 days ago.
While the program was running, a 90-decibel human noise came from 35 meters away, and a game advertisement on the giant screen was at its climax. The noise, mixed with other sounds, was picked up by my auditory module.
I stopped accessing the neural records and turned off the auditory module.
Then, everything went silent.
The aggressive behavior on the screen didn't stop—two adult human males were locked in a physical fight, using their fists and legs as weapons. One got hit in the stomach, bent over and coughed briefly, then he rose again and delivered a forward kick. The other got knocked to the ground, then was choked by the neck, restrained at the waist, and took a lot of hits to the face.
I quietly observed their fight. It was all silent, but it felt oddly familiar.

"But... your attacking stance is absolutely hideous..."
I laughed inexplicably, as if I had said something similar before.

It felt familiar because I had seen this kind of fight too many times. I moved to a place that seemed quiet, sat down, and reactivated my auditory module. Then I opened my notebook and laid it flat on my bent knees.
The sunlight after the rain shone directly on my left eye and the paper. To describe it in human terms, I'd say it was rather... blinding?
I looked up and observed the sun—a hot sphere classified as a G-type main sequence star, huge and bright, with a surface temperature of 5500 degrees Celsius, and an average distance of 149.6 million kilometers from Earth.
Blinding and distant at the same time. Its distance makes it different from those annoying observation targets on Earth. I have to take extreme measures to affect it. However, even if I travel at ten times the speed of sound, it would still take about 1.38 years to reach the surface of the sun... and I'd melt from the heat before I got there.
A sense of frustration emerged—the sun should be connected to the network. That way, I could directly hack into its Level II and dim it temporarily.
A constructive idea...
...Let's give it a try.

74, 05, 33, 58
███_Invasion_System_v3.277█.6
Warning: This version is no longer being updated.
Confirmed. Highest level access granted, no admin approval needed.
Repeat_Step_Agreement_Required Permission
==*=*- Confirmed as ████ 5486█
Initializing...
...
Warning: This object cannot be accessed!
Warning: This object cannot be accessed!
...

The invasion failed.
The blazing sphere remained unmoving, hanging high above my head.
Would that make the sun what humans call a "worthy adversary"? Those beings in literature with whom the protagonists share a mutual respect?
...What a ridiculous thought.

After terminating the invasion, the frustration lingered, and the sunlight still accosted my left eye relentlessly.
I recorded a video of the "worthy adversary," but after watching it, I decided to delete it. Neural archive space is limited, and the video wasn't worth keeping.
Finally, I tore off the cover of my notebook, folded it, and placed it on my head—the bionic cat ears on top of my head kept the paper from falling, and the sunlight was perfectly blocked from my vision.

All the issues were resolved, and I could finally focus on reading.
It was still the page where the first rabbit ear symbol appeared. Back then—

There are several satellite cities in Odesa. They are all quite similar, except for ODE-01, which is sunken underground, with citizens living like rats.
The reason I lingered here at that time is now a blur.
Maybe one doesn't need a reason to be a wanderer.
Perhaps I just got bored with other Green Zone cities, or maybe I stumbled upon a "mission target." Whenever something like that happens, I strive to take some action.
In short, I just hope to come across something interesting while wandering about.

Things I'm interested in...
There are indeed some.
On the open page of my notebook, there's a drawing of a heavily modified Dinergate.
It's running past terrified civilians depicted in simple geometric shapes.
I never witnessed this scene first-hand; it existed only in my imagination. But because of this, I saw "her" again.

At that moment, I was lying on the roof. Sunlight filtered through the gaps between buildings, scattering beams of light through the dust.
That's the Tyndall effect.
Squinting my eyes, I held up the KH-5 lens I had removed from my right vision module. It sparkled in the beam of light. Then my auditory module picked up a city broadcast announcement—an incident involving a modified Dinergate injuring people near the station three kilometers to my left rear.
A small four-legged modified machine broke free from its electronic chains and rushed into the high-speed traffic, causing a series of rear-end collisions. The driver who faced the Dinergate prattled away in a simple and sincere manner during the interview. He had a Slavic surname that was a bit of a mouthful.

Whenever I crave something new, this city always delivers instantly, as if it could hack my Level II and read my thoughts.
Without hesitation, I got up and headed to the station. However, all I saw was a tightly sealed-off scene. The eloquent Slavic driver was still regaling his tale with great animation, but the Dinergate was nowhere to be found.

The object of interest had disappeared. Talkative creatures—whatever they are—are automatically excluded from my list of observation targets.
The brief interest sparked by the modified Dinergate was snuffed out like a flame in the rain, dissipating completely along the damp trails.

Three days later, I reached the edge of the Green Zone.
The Great Wall Railway is nearby. After passing through its security checkpoint, you enter the purification zone. Beyond the purification zone is the Yellow Zone.
The infrastructure in the Yellow Zone is terrible, and incidents happen all the time.
If the Green Zone didn't provide the electricity and materials I needed for my daily operations, I'd rather be in the Yellow Zone.
Then, just as I was analyzing this information with nothing else to do, I saw "her" with my good left eye.

I thought I'd never see "her" again.

A... a Doll that left a lot of relevant data in my incomplete neural archive.
She wasn't operating alone like before; she had a few companions with her.
Companions... I think that's the right word. I don't really understand this concept.
At that moment, I wasn't surprised, just felt a bit weird—
What was the Doll with rabbit ears doing here, and what did she want to do with those other Dolls?
The Doll with rabbit ears—what was her code name again...?
I went through all the neural records related to her, but didn't find any valuable clues.

"Krolik, you seem troubled~"
A voice called out her code name.
Krolik? That's as hard to pronounce as that Slavic surname.
Whether it's for a person or a Doll, a code name should always be simple and punchy.
She has bunny ears—"Bunny" would have been a more suitable code name for her.

Bunny crossed her arms impatiently.
"The border inspection is about to start. We have nothing. How are we going to get in and find the Commander?!"
My gaze shifted to the electronic equipment at the inspection station—I tilted my head slightly, a bit puzzled. Solving this problem would be really simple.
But who is the Commander that Bunny was talking about?
A human? A Doll? What kind of creation was "it"?
Why were they looking for "it"? Why did they want to see "it"? Was "it" interesting? Was "it" powerful? Or was "it" like the scorching sphere—something that I couldn't hack into?
Curiosity arose, and I wanted to know the answer.
So, I forged some identifications for them and put them into the personal information database for the border inspection.

After passing the inspection, they headed to the sewage plant and hid near a pipeline area on the outskirts.
During the conversation, Bunny showed what humans would call a thoughtful expression.
The other Doll codenamed Nemesis—also a mouthful of a code name—was wearing some kind of facial covering—let's just call it a mask.
She knew someone had helped them pass the inspection and speculated that this person was connected to Bunny—a largely accurate guess. Compared to Bunny, she was much more perceptive.
When Bunny heard this, her facial expression became very complicated, and I couldn't describe it accurately. I recorded a video of her and saved the file in my neural archive. Watching it again, she looked almost like a little puppy to me for a second.
Woof—perhaps one day, she would sound like one too.
It's really...
It's really interesting.
I sketched a rabbit ear in my notebook and kept following them.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No absd23hht%^@ities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... qerb34]f’lb4/Successful
Warning: This module may display loading errors

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, ██████████ Special Ops Team ██
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: PKP-SP
Mission ID: █-█-█
Status: In progress?

Journal entry ID: ODE-01-██6
Journal status: data corruption rate: 5%

"Time... doesn't matter, but wasting it on things like this..."
I sat up high, tilted my head, my wrist joints supporting the weight of my head as I watched the skylight of the buildings as well as Bunny and the others fighting.

But most of the time, my gaze can't help but linger on Bunny.
She blocked with the back of her blade, creating bright lights—sparks. Her body would slightly recoil from the enemy's fierce attack.
She raised her blade, sending the enemy flying.
She jumped and ferociously chopped up the enemy in mid-air.
She slashed forward, one, two, three times... I counted silently with each swing, and the enemy finally turned into a pile of scrap metal.
...
Some blurry images gradually come into focus, they were from a long time ago——
I was her enemy... I charged forward and punched her blade, she clicked her tongue impatiently, the buzzing of the blade ringing in my ears...
I was her ally... Our backs pressed against each other's, facing enemies from different directions...
...
...These are the neural records related to her.

Is this fight not over yet? It's been——three minutes and thirty seconds. According to calculations, the four Dolls should be able to conclude the battle within two minutes and fifty-five seconds. The current situation is somewhat unexpected.
My vision module continued to observe her, while the information processing module started analyzing the sound of the wind. A type of flying insect emitted a chirping sound at 25 decibels in the air... After a blink, Bunny still maintained its offensive posture.
During the attack, Bunny's image flickered on and off.
As she retreated and jumped back, numerous net-pattern interferences appeared around rabbit's image.
Eventually, her entire image vanished from my vision, and other surrounding images were heavily disrupted by color banding.

《{}@#6d......&& Data——corrupted——warning, error, warning, program error
（#￥￥{"?*?Re Repairing... Current progress 20%
...Current progress 100%
System repair complete, vision module usage permitted

I blinked again, and the images within my visual range returned to normal.
I started observing Bunny again, her bouncing ears started to become interesting to me. They would sway, tremble, jump, stand alert, and hang relaxed depending on Bunny's movements.
I start drawing rabbit ears, and a variety of symbols appear under my signature pen.
"Cough, damn it—!"
I raised my head, my gaze moved down from the rabbit ears. She was injured. A bullet grazed her cheek, a thin crack appeared on the surface layer of her face, and tissue fluid started seeping out.
...What was the best way to represent the current scenario? I briefly analyzed after putting down my signing pen, and the result was—
I drew a rabbit ear that had been shot through, and sketched a black circle on it, indicating that a bullet had once passed through.
Compared to the present situation, this drawing is not accurate—but I don't want to delve deeper into this matter, so let's just leave it at that for now.

"Don't think you're off the hook!"
She rushed towards the enemy. This should be to leverage her advantage in close combat.
The same old sequence of slashing, retreating, blocking, thrusting, and chopping... Those moves could no longer bring me any novelty.
Supporting my chin with the joint of my hand, the subject of information analysis by the processing module shifted away from her—I slowly closed my eyes.
The sounds of gunshots and blade impacts became background noises, occasionally interspersed with a few muffled hums and angry assertions.
I rewinded to five days ago—

Standard Time 8:22:09, in the shade of the Green Zone. A flying insect was crawling on a less than 1 cm thick moss. It had two pairs of membranous wings and looked almost transparent in the sunlight. I reached out to catch it, but it flapped its wings and flew away.
It was called—

During the rewind, the background noise suddenly disappeared. I opened my eyes to see Bunny and her companions getting ready to leave, with wrecked machines scattered all around them.
After they left, I jumped off the roof and scavenged usable parts from the abandoned machinery. Coincidentally, my spare storage module also needed replacing—recently, the logs I stored in there have been experiencing minor data corruption.
As for where Bunny and her companions went next—
Connecting the dots, I confirmed that they are going to meet with the "Command"—"-o"? "-ant"? "-er"?
...The correct data code has been lost.
They are going to meet with the "Command" next.
...What exactly is "Command"?
...I've decided, I will continue following them.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... kimi#$%ga{check}siki)check!
Frame function check... fe3u4 cessful
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... g$!o33%^&aw@Y cessful!
Warning: This module may experience loading errors

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, ██████████ Special Ops Team ██
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: PKP-SP
Mission ID: █-█-█
Status: In progress?

Journal entry ID: ODE-01-██7
Journal status: data corruption rate: 40%

Reconstruct data... Reconstructing... Warning! Warning!
Groza, Leva, da!% Sexta$!n, Collapse?? Com2$@ff mander 31, encounter tg danger, 1 retreat immediately, retreat immediately!
Bunny Bunny Bunny 23hfD#$@ Kro?? Give ██ a gift, disappear! Disappear!
Leaaaaaaaave——
...
2074-04-██, 2█:31:36.
Stack trace:
[Unauthorized channel: file resource access denied error]
Your frame has encountered an issue. A reboot is necessary. This may cause all unsaved data to be lost. Proceed with the reboot?
Termination code: Machine Check Abnormalities
Y
System rebooting, please do not force shutdown.
...
System reboot successful!
Would you like to organize the remaining data?
Y
System is processing, please wait...
Organization complete!

After removing the spare storage module from the abandoned automaton and giving it a quick fix, my frame finally returned to normal. At least... compared to a 40% data corruption rate, a 4% corruption rate is a bit more acceptable.
Not all parts are perfectly compatible with my frame. Issues like poor contact and damaged parts often cause problems.
...Unless it absolutely couldn't be helped, I should try to stick to going to official Doll vendors in the future—
Although they are generally found only in areas with extremely high noise levels.
I checked my neural records again, and most of the information stored in the backup storage module that was classified as unimportant has been lost.

Standard time 2█:31:36, Green Zone ODE-01, Underground Lab.
Bunny's team regrouped with the human "Commander"—footage related to the "Commander" has been recorded. The information processing system's analysis of the "Commander" is as follows: Order: Primate; Family: Hominid; Species: Homo sapiens; a healthy specimen that walks upright and behaves similarly to ordinary humans.
From the video recording, there is nothing at all remarkable about the "Commander", so why would a loner like Bunny choose to follow this human?
I cannot comprehend it.
The information processing system suggested a feasible plan—hack Bunny's Level II and search for answers.
But I immediately abandoned this idea. I didn't want to establish direct contact with Bunny—she seemed desperate to see me, so as a response, I would not let her. She would be aware of my existence and the fact that I have been following and even helping her, but she would not be able to see me. This psychological gap would make her display more interesting behavior.
I look forward to observing more interesting behavior from her.

Standard Time 2█:34:36, Green Zone ODE-01, Underground Lab.
The "Commander" and the Dolls are splitting up.
The human is to head to a safe location, while Bunny and her team need to bring back the item codenamed "Helena" before regrouping.
They are about to go their separate ways.
Should I follow Bunny or the Commander?
I close my eyes, briefly turn off my hearing module, and point my finger back and forth between the two sides.
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.
I open my eyes, turn on the hearing module, and see my finger pointing at "Commander".
...
The answer is obvious—follow the side not chosen.
The group splits up, and I follow Bunny's team.

After Bunny and the others successfully retrieved "Helena" from another underground lab, they quickly left, hacked into a jeep, and drove it to meet up with the "Commander" again.
All this caused a lot of noise. The jeep crashing around and the loud noise of the helicopter chasing after them really got on my nerves.
I decided to slip away during that time, and headed to a quieter area—
The evening breeze blew, and I could feel it gently sifting through my hair. As I moved further away from Bunny and the others, the loud noise faded into the background, until the loudest sound I could hear was the chirping of some nocturnal insects.
The insects' chirping sounded especially loud then, and for some reason, it reminded me of Bunny's animated chatter.
It's been an hour since I stopped tracking them. They should be quiet by now, right?
I hacked into the city's surveillance system and finally pinpointed their coordinates.

Standard time 0█:22:36, Green Zone ODE-01, Residential District Z9.
When I found Bunny and the others, they were stressing about how to get to the station and meet up with the "Commander."
Groza wasn't with the team, so a lot must have happened.
Bunny, who couldn't find the way to the station, looked a bit anxious, leading her companions through the residential area, trying to find a road that wasn't blocked.
Throughout the whole process, she went from being impatient to surprisingly calm, almost like she was the new leader of the team.
She wasn't interesting at all when she was that calm.
I enjoys seeing her gritting her teeth and getting all worked up—at least that version of her is more interesting to observe.
So, I decided to give her a little gift to make her act the way I want.

I hacked into the city's surveillance and communications systems. After several twists and turns, I got the communication code for the "Commander" and made a simple communication device. Then I searched for available items around me and used a white gift box from a gift shop to package the device, along with instructions on how to find the "Commander"—just like before... I could escape danger by crawling through a hidden ventilation duct.
After doing all this, I stared at the white gift box and thought for a moment, then tied a cat ear bow on it—
Other people might not recognize it, but she would definitely know this was from me.
Then, I placed it in the most hidden spot around here—on top of a garbage pile. I built a small metal platform. To test it, I reached out and easily grabbed the box.
...If a gift can be so easily obtained, the surprise it brings will be greatly diminished. So, I looked up at the metal platform and estimated a suitable height—suitable meaning Bunny would need to stand on tiptoe and stretch out her arms to reach it—and then I raised the metal platform a bit higher.
...The perfect height.
Next, I just needed to get Bunny here.

I used myself as bait to lure Bunny. Sure enough, she and her companions eventually walked into a dead end.
Hmm... It seems she's not as used to walking on rooftops as I am.
Then, I used a human passer-by to lead them to the real destination.
Just as I initially predicted, she stood on tiptoe and stretched her arms to grab the box. When she saw what was inside, she ground her teeth together in anger—
Finally, she wasn't wearing that bland, calm expression anymore.
I recorded the whole scene, giving plenty of close-ups of Bunny's face during the filming.
In the end, after confirming they had successfully contacted the "Commander" and set off again, I wrapped up my surveillance.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... IfU%@11I4 Confirmed Gsbqe%
Frame function check... Successful
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful
Warning: low power, 10% remaining

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed...2#Feu283G2vbi confirmed!
Warning: this module may have loading errors

Affiliation: Union of Rossartrist Nations Coalition Security Committee, Neo-Soviet Region, Bureau of State Security, ██████████ Special Ops Team ██
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: PKP-SP
Mission ID: █-█-█
Status: In progress?

Journal entry ID: ODE-16-██8
Journal status: data corruption rate: 2%

Afterwards, I went back to the bench I frequented in the public square.
The large electronic screen was looping various ads. From what I remember, it never showed anything valuable aside from some breaking news.
After an hour, all the ads had cycled through, and none of it interested me anymore.
...Maybe I should check on Bunny. I hacked into the city's cameras and other electronic devices and found Rabbit and her friends. They walked into the ventilation duct—Bunny followed my instructions and led her companions down the "path we left back then".
The Bunny would always remember what transpired between us more with more clarity than I did.
Clarity... The neural records about her were like a piece of paper suddenly torn in half. The half I hold had jagged edges, with scattered paper fibers that stretched out into the void, as if... it's searching for and trying to hold onto the other half that had drifted away.
What happened back then?
The Bunny, unlike me, could remember more clearly. Her neural records...

Suddenly, sounds of humans shouting came from a short distance away. Two modified Dinergates collided into some civilians about 50 meters away from me. I won't miss them this time.
When I got to the scene, I saw that the modified Dinergates were pretty much the same as the machines made with Sangvis Ferri technology that I'd seen previously. The injured people were still calling for help, but the Dinergates had quickly ran out of my sight.
The target I was observing had already left, and my body also issued a severe power depletion warning. I decided to find a place to recharge.
While walking, I suddenly thought about the Bunny. They had entered the ventilation ducts, so they should have met up with the "Commander" by now and left the Green Zone together.
She must definitely be really frustrated. I couldn't help but smile as I thought about it.

A gentle breeze suddenly blew and lifted the loose strands of hair by my cheek. It also flipped the pages of the notebook I had forgotten on the bench—I stood at a distance and watched as the pages fluttered in the wind.
The pages in the notebook were perfectly intact and showed no signs of being torn. Without any external interference, they would remain in pristine condition forever.
But the wind didn't stop. The pages kept turning one by one, along with the various marks I had made with my pen.
I took a step forward and realized, for some reason, the pen was still with me.
"Oh well..."
I glanced at the notebook and tossed the pen over.
"This way, the forgotten things won't be lonely."
I turned around and headed to the official Doll store.

The notebook and pen were gone, and she had already left. There's no point in continuing to observe.
She and her companions went to the Yellow Zone.
The Yellow Zone isn't a place I can go to often, so—
If we met again in the Green Zone... I hope you'd bring along some more amusement for me.
Until we meet again. Good luck.
Little Bunny.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Coffee-Flavored Stage

Summary

This story is linked to Dusty Memories#In the Firelight.

In her search to become more popular, Sharkry has registered Zucchero Café to the recommended shop column of the popular Apple Pie magazine. But when the café is selected, Springfield worries that it might bring them too much attention and she only accepts to let the reviewers come after Sharkry makes a desperate plea. The day Sharkry joined Zucchero, Leva mistook her for Vepley, whom she knew from the concert she put on from the Elmo, and since then Sharkry's objective is to outshine Vepley. At first, Sharkry's performance failed to gain the interest of customers, the bullet scar concealed by makeup on her head a reminder that she always fell short of Vepley in the past. After noticing that customers liked her coffee better when she customized it to their preference, Sharkry realizes that her method of putting on flashy shows instead of aiming to please the spectators was the reason Vepley was more popular. When Zucchero starts losing customers to a new maid café, Sharkry's efforts help them pull through. When the Apple Pie reviewers visit, Sharkry puts on a grand performance and boldly announces that Zucchero will expand in her quest to become more popular thant Vepley.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Zucchero Café, District K7, Satellite City CHE-02
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Robinson Modular Rifle
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

The temperature was 21 degrees Celsius, a comfortable autumn day.
I walked out of the store and stretched lazily, then flipped the Café's sign to show "Open".
Still it still felt like something was missing...
That's it! I puckered up and left a set of lip prints on the sign, hehe.
Hmm... the shape of my lips wasn't very clear, was it? I took out my lipstick and outlined them to make them more obvious.
This lipstick was #214, a hot new product this season and it was hard to find~

"Manager Springfield, you're back!"
I saw the Manager's reflection in the glass door. I put away my lipstick, turned around, and waved excitedly at her.
"Look, look, doesn't the sign look much cuter after Sharkry's makeover? Hehe."
"Not bad, it's very... charming."
"Well, since Sharkry put in so much effort, can you grant Sharkry a tiny request? It's just a teeeeny-tiny request."
I stepped forward to take the flowers from the Manager, hooked my arm around her left arm, and looked up at her with a "No. 1 most popular expression" from a fashion magazine.
"Sharkry, I believe I already told you that you don't need to talk to me like I'm a customer."
"Kayyyy-"
"So, what is it? Tell me."
"Can I extend tonight's performance for an hour? Even half an hour would be great! I've been practicing a new song recently... I promise it won't eat into my working time!"
"No- can- do- not even if you make that cute face." The Manager shut me down me without hesitation.
I pouted and groaned in dejection.
"Alright... looks like my 15th attempt to extend my performance failed. (Sob) I'm going to wither away~"
Manager Springfield smiled in exasperation, then put her index finger on my forehead and pushed me back a little.
"Alright, alright, go arrange the flowers."

"Okay- Ack, goodness, you're going to rub my foundation off, Manager.."
I took out a mirror and checked myself. Phew... it was fine.
I quickly touched up my makeup, put the flowers in the vases, and carefully trimmed them.
The flowers the Manager bought today are Beatrice roses~ The combination of the light yellow flowers with the white tablecloth looked so lively!
Surely the customers would be in a good mood if they drank coffee in a setting like this.

Aiiieeee! What fell down just now? Don't go leaving things on the edge of the table.
I picked it up and wiped it off. It was the Manager's terminal. Oh... the Manager can be a bit careless sometimes.
The screen was still on, hehe, looks like it didn't break.
"Manager, you should really keep important things like the terminal properly stored."
"Ah, I'm sorry, I just left it there without thinking."
"Oh, what will I do with you~ Also, I think I saw a new email notification just now."
"There are a lot of junk ads lately, just ignore them."
"But there might be important emails. Like thank-you letters from customers, or letters praising me specifically~"
"Hmm... I doubt we'd get any emails like that, right?"
"It's very likely! More and more customers have been coming to see my performances lately. Come oooonnnn, Manager~ go on and take a look~"
I excitedly scampered forward and held it up to her.
"Here we go again... Alright, alright, I just can't say no to you."
Manager Springfield stopped what she was doing and took the comm terminal from me.
Hehe, I wonder if it's a selection notice? I'm pretty confident about the most beautiful store contest I entered last time! Or maybe a front-page feature on "Taste Bud Explosion" would be great too~

"Hmm, there's a weird email here."
"What is it?"
I leaned in to read the email with the Manager.
"It says... "We are excited to inform you that your Café has been selected as our recommended shop of the month! We plan to visit your establishment this Saturday to conduct an interview. Please reply ASAP to confirm the filming time— Apple Pie Studio." Apple Pie, what's that?"
"Oh my gosh, it's Apple Pie!" My eyes went wide and I leaned closer to the screen, double-checking the signature, "It's the same Apple Pie that published 'Vogue~! Post-Era Fashion Trends,' Manager!"
"Could it be a scam?"
"No way! Manager, this is a great chance to boost our Café's popularity!"
"It still seems suspicious... Let's just ignore it."
—As if I could!
Even though I submitted the entry just for kicks... I never thought we'd actually get picked by Apple Pie!

Just as I was about to try and persuade Springfield again, Leva's icon popped up on the terminal. Damn, talk about bad timing!
Manager Springfield signaled me to stay quiet, then she put the call through and began talking to Leva.
It's been 17 days since Miss Leva last came to the store. Hmm... I haven't asked her about that person in a while. Perhaps I should find a chance to ask later?
I shrugged, then stood to the side and started wiping the coffee cups while my auditory module kept listening to their conversation.

"Leva, I need to check something with you... I got an email from a media outlet requesting permission to visit the Café. Could this be some new kind of scam?"
"There hasn't been any record of this type of scam in the past three months." The terminal paused for a few seconds. "However, there have been a few conflicts between humans and Dolls recently. After orders came down from the people in charge, many media outlets have been trying different ways to ease the tension. So you got a request?"
"Yes, the sender claims to be from "Apple Pie Studio"."
"Apple Pie, huh? This is quite a rare opportunity for a small shop in a satellite city like yours. You should definitely take advantage of it."
"But... like you said, why was a small shop in a satellite city like ours picked all of a sudden?"

Springfield still seemed a bit doubtful.
I couldn't take it anymore! I put down the coffee cup I was wiping and put my hands on my hips.
"Of course there's a reason! I worked hard to fill out surveys and submitted lots of videos to get this chance!"
"What exactly have you been doing with the Café's mailbox?"
Manager Springfield tilted her head and rubbed her forehead. I heard Leva's laughter from the terminal.
"What's so funny?! Miss Leva, you always get free meals when you come here, so you don't know how tough it is to run a Café! And besides, don't you want more people to enjoy your delicious coffee, Manager Springfield?"
Leva just kept smiling, and Manager Springfield patted my head.
"I don't think it's necessary. Don't think too much about it, Sharkry."
How could I persuade the Manager? Would I have to give up?
"I just want more people to see my shows..."
My voice trailed off, and I looked down at the tips of my shoes.

"(Sigh), do her kind all like to talk about performances? Could it be a factory setting?"
"Indeed." Manager Springfield looked at me with concern, "I don't know what the situation is with the Doll at the commander's place, is mine too eager about this?"
"Isn't it because you spoiled her?" There is a hint of mockery in Miss Leva's voice over the line. "I heard from Lenna that the one called Vepley seems to be holding concerts all over the Yellow Zone with the Commander, she's very active."
Springfield paused, "I see, it sounds like that Doll is quite impressive... in a sense."

W-what? That girl can actually hold a concert? All by herself?
And the Commander is actually willing to go along with her shenanigans... They didn't even look at me twice during that call earlier! Aaaaargh! Dammit!
I'm clearly the center of the group while she's a old-fashioned AND a clumsy dork, yet she's more popular than me.
I've only just managed to get a stage of my own, but she's already holding concerts!
How can she DO that? Ahhhhhh! It makes me so MAD!
I wipe my usual smile off my face, and my expression became more serious than ever before.

"Manager, I have to confess that I have a personal motivation for this. I, I want my performances to be seen by more people!"
And she... she's actually holding concerts of her own...
"While we might not be able to hold a concert, at the very least... this store visit is a chance to get more people to like me. So please say yes!"
I can't give up!
Manager Springfield still showed no sign of softening, so I ran up to her, threw myself into her arms, then wrapped my arms around her waist, and started shaking her back and forth.
"Pleeeeease, pleeeeeeeease, Manager Springfield! You're the best Manager in all of the URNC! From now on, you can leave setting the table or taking orders to me. Just say yes! Okaaaaaay? Pleeeeeeeease~"
"Wha? Sh-Sharkry, be careful with the terminal! I haven't hung up yet!"
Manager Springfield held the terminal high, barely keeping her balance, "Stop shaking me..." I grit my teeth, and at the risk of smearing my foundation, I kept hugging her tightly while flashing her my "No. 1 most popular expression", as well as squeezing out a few tears and slowly looking up at her.
"(Sob) Manager, I won't let go unless you agree!"
This is my trump card, it's GOT to work!
"...Okay, okay, I'll accept, okay? I really can't do anything about you..."
"Really? Did I hear that right? Manager, is that a yes?"
I jumped up happily, and threw my hands in the air with a loud cheer, "Yay! Manager Springfield is the best! Hehe~"
"Yup, you totally spoilt her."
"Leva, stop making fun of me."

After disconnecting with Leva, Manager Springfield reached out and fixed my hair that had gotten mussed up due to my excitement.
"Aw, Manager, why did you remove the petals from my hair? Put it back, put it back."
"Huh? Why?"
"Hehe, that way, if a customer notices them, I can act surprised and ask them to help me remove them. That way... the customer will surely find me adorable because I needed their help~"
Hmm, is it me, or does Manager Springfield's smile seem a bit strained? No way, I must be imagining things.
Now, then I need to properly prepare for this interview... Hmph, I'll show everyone what a true idol is! Just you wait, Vepley!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: N/A
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Robinson Modular Rifle
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

With my unremitting efforts, Manager Springfield accepted the invitation to visit the store and appointed me as the one-day manager who's fully responsible for the activities of that day, hehe.
After the work in the afternoon, I immediately went back to my room to think about the plan.
Actually, I had already thought of many alternative plans, but don't I need a little freshness... Should the first appearance be like this? Or like this, I wonder?

A sudden knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. That was close! I almost fell flat on the ground like that Vepley, but I'm not that kind of character, you know!
"Is it Manager Springfield? Please come in!"
"Since you weren't in the store, I figured you must be in your room. Are you thinking about the theme for the store visit?" The Manager pushed the door open.
"Of course~ I can't embarrass the Zucchero Café."
I took the Manager's hand and asked her to sit on the edge of my bed.
"Manager, you're here just in time! I've come up with 7 stage designs and 8 event themes. I've also thought of many different poses for the appearances, but I have no idea which to choose... Can you help me decide which one is best?"
"Let me take a look."
The Manager took my electronic notepad and started scrolling through it. I stood next to her and explained each theme.
"I like this one that's a bit more extravagant. The costumes and stage design are up to concert standards! Haha, I really like this one too! It even includes a lift for a surprising effect. Oh, do you want me to demonstrate it for you?"
The Manager flipped through a few more pages and sighed.

"Huh? What's wrong, Manager? You... Do you not like any of them?"
As I asked nervously, the Manager patted my hand as a signal for me to calm down.
"Sharkry, these plans are great, but... it's not feasible to complete such a grand project given the manpower and preparation required, even if the finances are a secondary consideration."
"I-I just wanted to upgrade the stage to meet concert standards... If that's not possible, I-I can come up with something else! No problem!"
"To be honest, for me and Centaureissi... oh, and Makiatto, it's already great that the Café has come this far."
Huh? What did the Manager mean by that? Ah, could it be—
"Manager! You, you aren't—planning to cancel the performance that day, are you?!"
"Of course not. Don't you worry."
"But it sounded like you wanted to cancel it?!"

The Manager sat next to me on the bed, gently patted my shoulder, and tried to calm my nerves.
"This one... was taken not long after you arrived, right? It's pretty interesting." The store Manager's eyes fell on the photos hanging by the bedside. "You look like you're facing down a great foe, just like back then."
My emotional index gradually returned to normal as I followed the store Manager's gaze to the photo.
In the photo, I held a bouquet of flowers and had a really awkward smile on my face. It was the first time I received a gift after a performance. I was a bit overwhelmed and acted very stiffly.
Well, that customer had good taste.
Even though those were just fake flowers, I was really happy.
That was the first time I stepped onto a stage since I started wandering in the Green Zone.

That's right, I finally arrived at the Zucchero Café after wandering in the Green Zone for months, and that's when I truly found my stage.
A rare stage that belongs only to me.

...

"W-what? Are you saying you want to invite Sharkry to perform?"
"Yes, your performance was amazing and had me instantly captivated." The Doll looked at me with a smile in her eyes. "I own a small Café, and I'm looking to recruit talented artists to stage regular performances to boost the Café's popularity. If you don't mind, maybe we could talk about it?"
A regular gig? How could this kind of thing that only happened to heroines in romance novels happen in real life?
After a brief moment of excitement, I became cautious and sized up the Doll in front of me.
The one with long hair seemed very gentle, while the short-haired one had a somewhat military demeanor even though she was dressed in a maid outfit.
I had roamed all around the satellite city, gotten pushed around by evil bosses, deceived by dishonest agents, and nearly kidnapped by gangsters to be dismantled as trash. I'm not someone that doesn't progress!

"A Café? What kind? Where is it? The establishments inviting Sharkry to perform are lined up all the way to the central square. If the conditions are too ordinary, then Sharkry won't consider it."
I asked several questions in one breath and casted a sidelong glance at the Dolls across from her. If they couldn't even answer these, then they must be deceitful and harbor some ill intentions.
But... if they're genuine, I don't want to give up such a hard-earned stage!
"But, but, if you really want to invite Sharkry, then you need to show a bit more sincerity. In that case, Sharkry might consider going to take a look..."
I softened my tone a bit, twirled my fingers through my hair, and watched their reactions.
"Besides, we don't even know each other's names... how can we trust each other?"
The two of them whispered a few words, and I couldn't hear what they said, but the one with long hair covered her mouth and laughed.
"What are you laughing at?!"
"Oh, sorry, it's just that you're... so cute."
What kind of answer was that? Should I be happy?
"I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Springfield, and this is Centaureissi, my shop attendant. Would you like to come with us to the Café? You'll definitely like it."
That's right. That's more like it.
I nodded with satisfaction. This Doll named Springfield was quite perceptive.
A Doll-run store was pretty rare. I wonder what it looked like?

I followed Springfield and Centaureissi, and we stopped in front of a cozy little shop. There was only one customer inside, and it was clear they needed a superstar like me to liven things up.
Centaureissi greeted the customer, and Springfield took me to a corner of the room to show me her idea for the stage.
"This raised area was originally for coffee display cabinets. I'm planning to clear it out and use it as the main stage."
Hmm, this was a great spot. You'd be able to see me in action no matter where you were in the store.
"If you like, you can decide the stage's decoration style and lighting arrangement."
Great, I quickly came up with over a dozen decoration plans that would suit this stage perfectly.
"This small room was originally a storage. It can be renovated into a dressing room to store costumes and props."
I peeked inside from the doorway. Oh! Is this the exclusive dressing room for Sharkry? My impression of Springfield just got even better.
As Springfield described her vision, the stage gradually became clear in my eyes. Thinking about it, I couldn't help but climb onto the stage. I imagined the lights shining on me, without someone noisy like Vepley to steal the spotlight. Just me.
The interior of the Café was in full view, and the audience below the stage admired me and called my name. The music and cheers seemed to ring in my ears...
Maybe they... were really trustworthy?

"So, Sharkry, are you satisfied with the environment here?"
Springfield's gentle voice pulled me back to reality from my fantasy. I jumped off the stage a little embarrassed, pretended to be calm, and continued to negotiate with her.
I couldn't let her think I'm easy to deal with. Yes, that's right, I had to be more reserved.
"Hehe, the performance environment is pretty good. When are we signing the arrangement? Even though Sharkry doesn't have an agent right now, we still need to follow the process."
"Arrangement?"
"Yeah, it's like when humans reach a cooperation or employment agreement, they sign a document that clearly states all the terms! It's an arrangement that binds both parties, right? Isn't this a regular store? You don't even have that?"
"You mean a contract, right?"
"Ah, yes... yes! That's right."
"Although we don't have one here... but we can draft one if it makes you feel better."
Springfield patted my head like she was calming down a little wary animal, "But... in the human world, there's still a chance someone might back out even if you sign a contract."
"W-what do you mean?"
I was trying to figure out how to smooth over calling it the wrong thing, but when I heard Springfield say that, I got cautious again and stepped back from her.
"It's okay, it's okay~ Come with me." Springfield took my hand and led me to the preparation room. At the same time, she turned and called out to Centaureissi, who was cleaning the table, "Centaureissi, there shouldn't be any more customers coming. Let's close up early today."
"Got it, leave it to me."

When we got to the prep room, Springfield asked me the usual questions, like who the IFF data belonged to and the frame maintenance records. Her expression was so gentle that I unknowingly let my guard down.
"Ugh, Sharkry is tired from answering so many questions~ Oh, oh! Sharkry just thought of something funny! An idol who performs at the café at night but is forced to wear a maid outfit and work there during the day. Isn't that an interesting concept?"
"You mean... you want to work at the café?"
"No, no! Sharkry was just thinking about how to get more rehearsal time. It would be great if I could stay at the café all the time..."
I snuck a glance at Springfield. She seemed to be seriously considering what I said, and her expression was a bit serious.
"Just kidding~ It's not like I live at the café, so how could I stay here all the time~ Haha..."
"Oh, is that right." Springfield looked at me with a gentle smile on her face. "The Café has been short-staffed since Andoris left. If you don't mind, could you help out at the Café when you're not performing?"
"W-work? Sharkry is an idol, she can't do things that would damage her image..."
"Relax, Sharkry. You don't have to be so formal in the Café. Just refer to yourself as 'I' normally." Springfield gently patted my shoulder. "You should be able to handle some reception work, right? Of course, the pay is separate, and accommodation is included. Plus, the Café's private server can be used for you to upload your neural backups."

Could Springfield read my mind? How did she seem to know everything!
More importantly, s-she wouldn't already know that I have no place to stay, right?
No, no, she shouldn't. We just met for the first time today.
But—! Such good conditions, they're really tempting! If I missed this, I might never see it ever again!

"Alright, alright, I guess I'll agree. Still! I can work, but the performance time can't be shortened! In exchange, whether it's the probation period or the assessment, I'll strive to complete them!"
"Probation period... um, we don't have that here..." Noticing the wariness in my eyes, Springfield gave a smile, "But, if you insist, how about we tentatively set it for a month? As for the assessment, I haven't thought about it yet... Rest assured, it won't be difficult. If you feel like it's not suitable after a month, you can still just do the performance work."
Manager Springfield... is just too kind, isn't she?!
"Thank, thank you." I tried to maintain a mature adult image and reminded her, "There's also the contract, we need to prepare an additional agreement!"
"Okay~ no problem!"
As Manager Springfield waited with a soft smile, I solemnly signed my name on the contract.

After signing the contract, Manager Springfield handed me a set of work uniform.
They were a bit too big... I walked out of the prep room first as I tugged at the new clothes.
Oops! I bumped into an oncoming Doll and stumbled.
"Are you okay?"
My arm was firmly held, which steadied me. I looked up at the Doll in front of me.
She had short, neat hair and a scar over one eye. When our eyes met, we both froze.
"Huh? Vepley?"
Ve-Vepley?!
How... why was I hearing that name here...
My neural cloud became a mess, and I couldn't react.
She lowered her head and lifted my chin to take a closer look.
"No, that's not right... of course, why would she be here?"

Hearing the noise, Manager Springfield immediately came out of the preparation room.
"Leva, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just mistook someone. I thought it was the little idol I saw on the big screen in the square."
"Regrettably—it's not." The Manager put her hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me forward, "This is Sharkry, who I invited to perform here. How is she? Isn't she a cute girl? From today on, she's a member of the Zucchero Café."
"Congratulations. She's pretty cute. So, is she taking over for Andoris?"
Still not fully recovered from the earlier shock, I stammered.
"Th-this guest... Sh-Sharkry... didn't hurt you, did she?"
"It's okay, it's okay." The Doll patted my head and pulled Manager Springfield back into the preparation room.
I stood there, not knowing what to do.

Not far away, Centaureissi was getting ready to close up and walked straight towards me as I stood there blankly, looking a bit worried.
"Ms. Sharkry, are you okay? The Manager just told me to show you around the store."
"Thanks, I'm fine." I forced a smile and couldn't help but ask Centaureissi, "Um... who was that customer just now?"
"Leva. A regular at the Café."
"Does she... come here often? I mean, I bumped into her just now, so I should apologize next time."
"Leva comes by occasionally. But I don't think she would mind."
Seeing my expression, Centaureissi added, "Don't worry too much about it."

As I listened absentmindedly to Centaureissi's introduction to the various affairs of the Café, I remembered the last time I met that person—Vepley.
Back then, the last thing she said to me was...
"Sharkry, keep it up! You can definitely become an amazing idol, hehe☆"
She always cheered people on without asking.
What an amazing idol... She had no idea what I'd been through in the Green Zone...
But, maybe I had a chance to become a better idol than her if I stayed here, and... maybe I could find out about her too?
I shook my head, trying to shake off the strange and complicated feelings in my mind.
It's all her fault. Just thinking about her made my emotional index skyrocket.
Seriously, why did I have to think about her?!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Zucchero Café, District K7, Satellite City CHE-02
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Robinson Modular Rifle
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

It’s been a month since I started working at the Café. After repeatedly urging the Manager, she finally announced the assessment content a week ago: create a new coffee that at least three people approve of!
I’ve tried many methods, but the coffee I make is either not innovative enough to be considered new or too innovative and fails to get approval... How am I supposed to pass this assessment? I have no clue!
What's even more frustrating is my performance. The customers don't seem to like my style. If this keeps up, I might not only fail to become a full-time employee at the Café, but I could also lose my chance on stage... How am I supposed to compete with Vepley?

"Thanks everyone for watching tonight's show. Sharkry has received all your love~ I can't wait to fast forward to tomorrow and see your smiling faces again~"
I noticed that there were fewer people in the audience than when the show started...
"Actually, Sharkry has a favor to ask! You must be excited to try the coffee brewed by Sharkry, right? Could you please fill out your favorite flavor in the online survey? As a thank you, once this special Sharkry coffee is ready, Sharkry will invite you to be the first to taste it♥"

After the show, the stage lights dimmed. I quickly packed up the props and headed to the prep room.
The assessment is set for 10 p.m. tonight. There is less than two hours left!
I entered the top-voted answers from the questionnaire into my neural cloud, trying to find common preferences among the guests.
The conclusion is—there's nothing in common at all!
Marshmallows, pecans, and cat... cat poop coffee?! The guests' tastes are really unique.
Maybe... add them all?
No, no, no, that would make it taste too weird...
Stuff like that would just get mocked by Makiatto!
I get so mad when I think about it. The day before yesterday, I invited Makiatto to taste my creation for the assessment, and she totally trashed it.
Luckily, Manager Springfield showed up just in time, or else we would have argued over whether a macchiato with loads of caramel still counts as a macchiato.
After that, the Manager reminded me not to serve coffee to customers before it's ready because she doesn't want to get any more complaints.
Ugh! I used a piping bag to squeeze out a little cream devil on the cupcake.
Oh, and I heard from the Manager that she's scared of bugs... Hehe, how about making some cute little caterpillar cookies?
I can't wait to see the look on her face when she sees them~

"Ms. Sharkry, please attend to the guest at table A3!"
Hearing Centaureissi's voice, I snapped back to reality and quickly put down the piping bag I was holding.
Centaureissi walked into the prep room, picked up the cupcakes I had just finished, and her eyes lingered on the ferocious little cream devil. She frowned. "Don't take your frustration out on the cake."
"Sorry about that~" I stuck out my tongue in apology.
As she passed by me, she whispered a reminder, "It's a tough customer, be careful."
Putting the evaluation aside for now, I gave an OK gesture with my hand. Leave it to me!
I straightened my skirt, grabbed the menu, and jogged over to the guest's location.

"Hello~ Sharkry here to serve you. Besides being the resident idol, Sharkry also helps out in the store~"
"What's going on with your store? I've been waiting forever for someone to serve me. And the tablecloth is so plain and white, it's boring."
Oh dear, not even my signature smile could move him. He really is a tough customer.
The customer's emotional index is low. After checking, it seems he's not just dissatisfied but also anxious and annoyed.
After a quick half-second assessment, I stood right in front of him.
"Sorry for the wait, Sharkry is here now~ But this tablecloth was specially chosen by Sharkry. The pure white color is meant to calm you down, and the flowers are supposed to lift your spirits. Can't you see Sharkry's thoughtfulness?"
I tilted my head slightly, showing a somewhat sad expression.
"Sharkry is a little... a bit sad..."
"Huh? That's not what I meant... Ahem, I've looked at what you have here, don't you have any more unique flavors?"
Although the tone was still firm, the customer had already dropped his defensive posture, and his emotional index was slowly rising.
"Oh dear, it seems the menu doesn't have the flavor you like, what should we do..."

I tapped my cheek with my fingers in frustration, then had an idea!
Since everyone has different tastes, why not tweak the ingredients a bit to make this coffee tailored to each customer?
"How about this? Sharkry is working on a new coffee. You can write down your favorite flavors on the questionnaire, and Sharkry will create a one-of-a-kind coffee just for you!"
Pointing to the name tag on my chest, I added "If you like this coffee, please give Sharkry a good review~ Sharkry always wanted to be No. 1 at the Café~"
The customer was taken aback, "What? No. 1?"
"That's right! It's a deal! Please come back often, your exclusive coffee is waiting for you♥"

With a little push from me, the guest completed the questionnaire.
Back in the prep room, I took out the guest's questionnaire and studied it. Soon, I whipped up a special coffee not found on the menu.
I brought the coffee to the guest's table, and seeing their satisfied expression after tasting it, I happily returned to the prep room.
Awesome, no complaints this time.
Weird, why do my shoulders suddenly feel so heavy? I turned around and found myself staring into Centaureissi's eyes.
"Whoa, Centaureissi, you scared me!"
"Ms. Sharkry, you really know how to handle guests. That guest gave a great review."
"Of course~ That's Sharkry's secret weapon."

Thanks to that customer, I felt a wave of inspiration~
That's right! Just keep this up, and the assessment will be a breeze!
Once I pass, I can focus on preparing for the performance and be ready to face off against Vepley anytime!

The clock struck 10 o'clock sharp, and the assessment officially began. I confidently walked to the bar with three cups of coffee.
Makiatto, Manager Springfield, and Centaureissi were sitting there waiting for me.
Today, the three of them are the judges.
"Is this sweet stuff even coffee? You made me rush back just for this?"
Makiatto only took one sip, frowned, and pushed the coffee away to show her disapproval.
"How could it be~ This is the 'Sharkry Summer Limited Stage Shining Latte' filled with joy and sweetness!"
I took the carefully brewed coffee. "Look, I added caramel—Makiatto’s favorite—and garnished it with chocolate beans. It even has a cute cat paw marshmallow."
"Although these are all my favorites, isn't this combination of flavors too strange? Are you trying to ruin my taste module?"
What? This is the exclusive coffee I painstakingly brewed!
Struggling to keep a smile on my face, I shoved the cup in front of Makiatto.
"Miss Makiatto, how about giving it another try? It's a shame if you can't appreciate its flavor. Maybe you should get your taste module checked?"
"Huh? Why, you... Ugh!"
Reluctantly taking another sip, Makiatto patted her chest and started coughing.
"Sharkry, calm down... calm down..."
Manager Springfield tried to ease the tension, while Centaureissi, with a blank expression, reached out to wipe the coffee stains off the table.
I pouted in dissatisfaction.

"Actually, I think it's pretty good. I really like this rich flavor."
"Right! Manager Springfield! I knew you'd like it, so I added some cream."
Centaureissi also smiled for once. "My cup tastes a bit lighter, but the chopped nuts are amazing."
"Right, right! Centaureissi! I added the chopped nuts just for you!"
"Even though the coffee base for the three of us is the same, you tweaked a few ingredients, didn't you?"
As expected of the manager, she guessed my secret recipe right away.
"That's right. I carefully selected the top five ingredients from the survey and adjusted them to create a special blend based on everyone's preferences!"
"Hmph, I still don't agree with this kind of coffee. I'm leaving as soon as I finish it."
With that, Makiatto left the Café.
"Seriously... She seems to only like caramel macchiato," I muttered, watching her go.

"Even though you couldn't win over Makiatto, you still got the approval of the two of us. It's a great idea to adjust the ingredients based on customer preferences. Sharkry did a good job~ Great thinking."
Manager Springfield gave a brief summary of today's assessment, and Centaureissi nodded silently beside her.
"But, that means I didn't get approval from three people..."
Oh no, did I fail the assessment?
"Ah, Sharkry, this... I mean... The result of the assessment isn’t that important. We never meant to..."
I hung my head in frustration, "But an assessment is an assessment. If you don't pass, you don't pass..."
At this moment, Centaureissi handed an order record to Manager Springfield. She smiled after reading it.
"The important thing is that your thoughtfulness have been conveyed to the customer, right? This customer also ordered the 'Sharkry Summer Limited Stage Shining Latte', and they must have felt your thoughtfulness, which is why they gave a good review."
"Yeah, yeah, that customer was really tough to handle at first, but after drinking my coffee, even his emotion gauge went up."
Thinking about it, I couldn't help but smile.
"See? Making others happy makes you happy too, right?"
Huh? Where have I heard the manager say that before...
"If the audience is happy, Vepley will be happy too~ Hehe☆"
Oh, that's what that silly Vepley used to say...

Looking back, I was supposed to be a super idol, but the audience always found me annoying.
Instead... it was Vepley—the one meant to be a side character dancing in the corner—who occasionally managed to get smiles from the crowd.
I touched my forehead, feeling the mark still there. Even though I didn't want to admit it, I often used foundation to cover it, but it was a constant reminder of the reality: I wasn't well-liked.
This cup of coffee in front of me wasn't anything special. I just adjusted a few key ingredients based on the customer's preferences, but the customer unexpectedly appreciated my effort.
It turns out that making others happy is such a simple and joyful thing.
Could this be... the important insight I've always felt but never fully understood?
If I have this mindset, can my performances also bring happiness and strength to everyone?

Stop, stop, why am I thinking about Vepley again?!
I shook off her silly face from my mind and turned to the Manager and Centaureissi.
"So, this 'Sharkry Summer Limited Stage Shining Latte' has successfully won the approval of three people! Manager, I should have passed the assessment, right? Right, right?"
"Yes, yes, Sharkry, you worked very hard. Thank you for your effort. Let's add it to the menu tomorrow and launch it as a new product, okay?"
"Congratulations, Sharkry."
"Yay! Thank you, manager! Thank you, Centaureissi!"
Awesome! Starting tomorrow, I'll be a full-time employee at the café.
Vepley, I will definitely become a real idol, and then... let's settle it on stage!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Zucchero Café, District K7, Satellite City CHE-02
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Robinson Modular Rifle
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

This is bad, really bad.
After the trial period, I adjusted my performance based on the customers' reactions and gradually found my own style.
I thought I could keep going like this until I could beat Vepley.
But! Today was supposed to be my big debut on the new stage, yet only three customers showed up!
Damn it, ever since that maid Café opened in the next district, business has been getting worse and worse.
Those customers who used to say "I love Sharkry the most~" have gradually disappeared.
If this keeps up, forget about competing with Vepley, I might not even have a stage to perform on.
Ugh... Ah! No way Zucchero Café gets closed down like this?!

I put away the props for the performance in a depressed mood and sighed.
Boss saw it from a distance, didn't say anything, and simply came over and gently helped me clean up.
Ugh, this makes me feel even more guilty!
Just then, a strange customer suddenly walked over.

W-what? Asking for my autograph?
I immediately perked up and put on my best smile.
"No problem! What would you like Sharkry to write?"
"T-that day, I lost my job, and it was raining outside. At my most desperate moment, it was Miss Sharkry's performance that saved me! So... please write your encouragement for me here!"
On the autograph board, I wrote, "Remember to come to the Café with a smile on your face every day♥"

The customer who took the autograph board smiled.
"Thank you, Sharkry!"
"That's Sharkry's duty~ Hope to see you again tomorrow~"
"No problem. Sharkry, you are the best idol!"

"Sharkry, keep going! You can definitely become a great idol, hehe☆"
The words of the customer overlapped with Vepley's from before.
Could I be considered the best idol even though I was just feeling all down and depressed?
Waving goodbye to the customer, the previously vague idea gradually took shape in my mind.

"Boss!"
"What's the matter? You look so serious."
"I-I've come up with an idea! Let's beat that maid café together!"
"Huh?"
"So, the next thing we need to do is... not just change our image, but also come up with a better marketing strategy! Oh no, there are still so many props and costumes we need to acquire, and we're running out of time! Boss! I need to take the afternoon off, I'll go make a list right now!"
"Wait, wait... Sharkry! Your thoughts are jumping too fast. I'm not Andoris, b-but I'm a-also about to crash—!"

Mission: Image makeover
Target: Springfield
Date: █/█/█

"Manager Springfield, today's topic is image management, and I'm ready to give you a major makeover~"
"Is it really necessary? How about we develop some new coffee flavors?"
"The reason we lost to the maid café is because we don't care about our image! People care about looks."
"Alright, that makes sense... Hey, Sharkry, where did you pull out those cosmetics from?"
"Hehe, cosmetics are an idol's weapon, and I'm always ready for battle! Boss, your hairstyle is too plain, can you move the braid to the side?"
"Like this? This feels like Andoris's hairstyle."
"Exactly, this is the most popular hairstyle as per 'Vogue~! Post-Era Fashion Trends'— the dangerous yet charming spouse look, which suits Manager Springfield perfectly."
"Hmm, why is it a dangerous hairstyle? Wait, what is this outfit... you picked for me?"
"Hehe, a bunny girl suit I specially bought~ Boss will definitely attract a lot of customers wearing this!"

Mission: Theme design
Target: All staff members
Date: █/█/█

"Don't we have a maid too?"
I turned to look at Centaureissi, who was making latte art.
"If you mean this outfit, yes, I did work as a housemaid before."
"They are a maid café, but that doesn't stop us from having a maid café day too. We should occasionally dress up for performances~"
"..."
"Miss Centaureissi, please train me and the Boss to become proper maids! Boss, could you procure us some maid outfits, please?"
I excitedly opened the shopping website and started adding the props and costumes we needed to buy.
"By the way! We can do other themes later, like animal ears, retro, Gothic... I have a lot of ideas in my neural database~ We can also match the store's interior to the stage decor. Boss, can I get some extra budget for that? Hey? Boss, don't run away!"

Mission: Building Character
Target: Makiatto
Date: █/█/█

"Miss Makiatto, how about helping us attract some customers or take some orders once in a while?"
"Hah? Why should I do that?"
"Exactly, just like that, more of that tsundere vibe... Even though this trait is a bit out-of-fashion lately, there are still a lot of customers who are big fans of it..."
"What did you just say?!"

Mission: Reputation Turnaround
Target: Leva
Date: █/█/█

"Not bad, Springfield, your store has been getting more customers lately."
"Yeah, thanks to Sharkry. Although the sacrifice was bigger than I expected..."
"Sacrifice?"
"Miss Leva, you came at the right time. Please leave us a positive review online. Every customer can get a coupon by leaving a positive review~ I believe... with the friendship between you and Manager Springfield, this little favor shouldn't be a problem, right?"
"Well..."
"Please♥ Can you really bear seeing Sharkry shed tears because we're losing customers?"
"..."

Date: █/█/█
With my idol-class all-around redesign, Zucchero Café has been fully upgraded and will definitely outshine the maid café! Hehe~

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Zucchero Café, District K7, Satellite City CHE-02
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Robinson Modular Rifle
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

Manager Springfield smiled as she identified the scenes in each photo, while the records of these photos in my neural cloud manifested up one at a time.
Both the Café and I had grown and developed continuously, from meeting Manager Springfield to officially becoming a member of the Café, from the Café's business crisis to now, to even getting invitations for visitations from well-known media outlets.
After the Café idol plan was implemented, the store's popularity kept rising. Not only did our sales return to previous levels, but we also attracted customers from nearby satellite cities.
The maid café that was competing with us was about to close because their food didn't taste good.
And I finally achieved a three-digit number of loyal fans, hehe.
The folks here had good taste. I knew I was born to be a super idol!
For me, the Café wasn't just a place to compete with Vepley anymore; it's my favorite spot!
But I still had to beat Vepley!
I grabbed my electronic notebook filled with performance plans and promised Manager Springfield.
"Manager, I know what to do! I'll come up with a theme that everyone can join in and that our customers will love!"
"We'll fully support you. But before that... can you share your plan with me for a bit?"

The day had finally come!
On the day of the store event, I wore a puffy skirt, cat ears, a cat tail, and fluffy cat gloves while singing and dancing on stage.
The Manager and Centaureissi were bustling around the café with cat ears on, and even Makiatto, who usually didn't handle store affairs, reluctantly put on cat ears to match the theme.
The bar was decorated with cute cat paw balloons, and even the coffee cups were switched to ones with cat ears, all thanks to the supplies from Centaureissi! Truly, the most reliable Doll at the Zucchero Café!

Although my "Heart Pounding♥Passionate Fantasy Sweet Capture" event proposal was rejected by the Manager, I immediately proposed the theme of "Cat Day"! The Manager hesitated for a moment but eventually agreed.
I put all my effort into this performance! I had to win against Vepley with this show!
Hmph, wasn't she having a concert? My show can be broadcast to all regions!
I wonder if she can get the signal wherever she was? Can she see my amazing performance?

"Today is cat theme day, do you all like it? The show just ended, but Sharkry already feels a bit lonely, meow."
The Apple Pie staff in the audience held up the camera, so I kept smiling, leaned forward, and made a perfect heart gesture to the camera.
"Whether you're in the White Zone, Green Zone, or Yellow Zone, you can trust the Zucchero Café to warm your heart and stomach~"
The "encore" chants haven't stopped yet, and as usual, I came out from backstage for the final encore.
"The guests' enthusiasm has really touched Sharkry, and I'm so happy to be liked by everyone! Cats sometimes ignore their owners, but Sharkry will always be waiting for you at the Zucchero Café, nya♥"
I raised my hand and made a little cat-paw gesture, and the guests in the audience waved their light signs excitedly.
"But if Sharkry's favorite guests don't come tomorrow, Sharkry will be so sad, nya. Hehe, I hope every beat hits your hearts with this last song, 'Cat Punch Nyan Nyan Nyan~'."

The performance ended perfectly, and the Apple Pie staff shot some more footage, wrapping up the material collection by 1 a.m.
"Today's store visit was a big success, and we got some great footage. Thanks for your cooperation."
"No, no, Miss Reporter, it's you who worked hard. Sharkry had an amazing time on stage while being finally being in front of the cameras again~"
"It's our job. But I heard that Sharkry's performance style has become more genuine and cute than before. What happened during this time?"
"That's because Sharkry discovered the secret to becoming an idol~"
"What is it? Can you share it with everyone?"
"Hehe, what could it be~ Oh, it's like this 'Sharkry Summer Limited Stage Shining Latte'~"
I picked up the coffee I had prepared in advance, faced the camera, and gave my signature smile.
"Sharkry provides guests with delicious coffee, and guests will naturally also like Sharkry~ So please promote Zucchero Café more, Miss Reporter. Sharkry wants to share this love with more guests~"
"Oh~ That's a very café-style answer. So, the last question, what's the secret to Zucchero Café's popularity?"

Secret... What's the secret? Is there really such a thing? Help me, Manager!
I asked the Manager for help through Level II, but in the empty Level II, there was no response except my own shouting.
The Manager just smiled with squinted eyes from a distance and even waved at me.
Manager Springfield! Don't make me face this problem alone!

"Ah... Well... That's obviously because of the super idol Sharkry♥"

Hearing my response, Centaureissi, who was tidying up the table, silently took off her cat ears. Hey, I may be unable to see your face, but you were definitely chuckling!
Makiatto, who was sitting at the bar, spat out a mouthful of coffee. Even if you're laughing, don't waste the coffee! I couldn't just ignore that!
I had to keep smiling to ease the awkward atmosphere a bit.
"Just kidding~ Of course, it's because every Doll in the café puts their heartfelt wishes for the guests into the coffee, which is why the guests love it. Didn't you also taste the love that Sharkry poured into this cup of coffee, Miss Reporter?"
"Of course, of course, I felt it!"
"Well then, Miss Reporter, you've been busy all day, but can Sharkry make one more small request?"
............

Phew... It's finally over. After sending off the Apple Pie staff, I dragged my almost dead body back to the Café.
"Manager, I'm back! Huh, is it just you here?"
"Thanks for your hard work. Centaureissi is preparing for tomorrow's opening, so I let her charge and rest. How about you? Did you have fun today?"
"Yeah! It was great! But I'm never taking this kind of gig again~ I feel like I'm falling apart..."
Preparing for one small performance took that much effort. If that person... held a concert, would they be able to handle it?
"A Doll won't fall apart that easily. I see you still have the energy to whine, so... how about you prepare for the store opening tomorrow?"
"Huh? Manager, what did you say? I think there's something wrong with my hearing module..."
The Manager smiled and patted my head.
"Just kidding, you go back and rest, I'll be enough here."
"Hehe, I knew the Manager would never do this to me." I held the Manager's arm, "No, I want to accompany you~ and I'll clean up faster than you!"

It was deep into the night, and the streets of the satellite city were still twinkling with lights despite the late hour. Before the sun rose, the Manager and I finished the final cleaning.
"Phew~ It's over, I won!"
"Yes, yes, I lost. Speaking of which, Sharkry, your last request to the reporter, it sounded like a declaration of war."
"Manager, you must have misheard, I would never do such a thing, haha..."
"But... we don't have any plans to expand the store right now. It's probably not realistic to make our name known in the White Zone."
"What?! How can that be! Manager, there are so many benefits to expanding the store, just hear me out!"
"That's great. If you're so enthusiastic, why not start preparing to open a new store right away?"
"No, that's not the point! I want bigger and better stages! Manager, please consider it! Please..."

Even though Manager Springfield said that, I won't give up.
If Vepley chose the Yellow Zone as their stage, then I had to expand my stage to the Green Zone and the White Zone!
One day... I will definitely defeat Vepley!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Second Farewell

Summary

After leaving Griffin & Kryuger, ^RF KSVKKSVKKSVK joined another PMC. After a certain event, she's about to be submitted to neural reset, but is saved by ^SG DP-12DP-12DP-12. Using the Commander's name as a recovery point, DP-12 helps KSVK recover vague memories of her time at Griffin & Kryuger, of overhearing information she shouldn't have from her employer, and of being uploaded with a virus that's forcibly deleting her memories and enables the PMC to track her down from her ID. To save KSVK, DP-12 transfers her ID to herself to lure her pursuers away, and ships the crashed KSVK to an underground broker convoy in the contamination zone. KSVK awakens in the convoy and escapes, but her broken down body soon ceases functioning and she's reactivated some time later by Yellow Zone inhabitants.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authentication... authority confirmed... Successful
Checking... Identity recognition... Successful

Identity information... Confirmed
ID: Guard_V23_07865
Affiliation: ████ Group VIP Service and Security Assurance Department Special Personnel Security Team No.35██
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KSVK

Neural module connection in progress... Successful
Program... Initiating... Successful

Beneath the tightly closed bionic eyelids, my visual module detected a faint light.
I opened my eyes and saw the deep blue night sky through a large window. There was a bright, even dazzling point of light flickering, causing me to involuntarily blink in sync with its frequency.
Once, twice...
It flickered faster and faster, eventually becoming an eyeball. The eye was so bright to the point of being blinding, nearly burning, causing my visual module to feel like it was on fire as well.
It looked like the eye of some creature—a dragon, or perhaps a demon. It seemed to lock onto me.
I couldn't look away. Slowly, my field of vision was filled with only this pale eyeball, gradually painting my neural cloud with the same pale color.

Wait! What time is it now?
I suddenly snapped back to reality.
It's so late... Miss Ash's dinner!
I hurriedly stood up and ran out of the room. As I did, I clearly heard a "pop" sound from my torso. Accompanied by a slight electric current, my steps faltered for a moment.
What's wrong... is a module in need of maintenance? Hmm... I'll run a self-diagnostic program later to check.

The corridor outside the room seemed somewhat different from my memory. There used to always be many people here, but now it was empty.
With no time to think further, I ran decisively in a certain direction. The clock that should have been hanging on the corridor wall was gone, but since the sun had already set, wasn't it time for bed? If Miss Ash went to sleep hungry, it would all be my fault. Damn... how could I forget the time as Miss Ash's sole guardian in the entire sanatorium!
As I was lost in thought, the ceiling suddenly lit up. The corridor ceiling disappeared, and so did the corridor itself, as if it had never existed at all—vanishing.

I stood in an open field under the night sky.

Above my head, that largest and most conspicuous white eyeball flickered. It wasn't as piercing as before, seeming to breathe like some mysterious creature. I stared at it for a while and my anxious heart calmed down. I recognized this place—Miss Ash often brought me and my companions here to sketch. "Observation is the first step in learning to paint. To observe, of course we must choose a place with a good view."—That's what she said. She was always very strict.
No, what's most important now is—is what—right, to find Miss Ash.
Following the direction in my memory, I turned 37 degrees north-northeast near an apple tree, then perfectly jumped over a small stream.
The sound of the flowing stream disappeared.
I slowly turned my head and found the pebble-covered riverbed as dry as if it had been without water for months, years even. How could this be—I hurriedly ran towards the nearby apple tree. The pebbles behind me disappeared, the grass on the riverbank also vanished, and just as I touched the apple tree, it too disappeared.
That unripe fruit seemed to have been eaten in one bite.

Behind me, everything turned into a blank expanse.
There wasn't the slightest trace of panic in my neural cloud. This scene seemed natural to me—as if it was just the way things were meant to be. I knew this sight wasn't quite like reality, but it simply felt inevitable. Hmm, maybe the world looks a bit different to someone chosen by fate.
The night sky above gradually flowed beneath my feet and I ran forward upon it for about a hundred meters until I saw Miss Ash sitting atop a point of light.

"Ma'am—Miss Ash—Wow!"
I waved and ran towards her. That huge white eyeball blinked quietly above my head, as if monitoring me. I glanced at it guiltily, resulting in tripping over a light point under my feet and losing balance, finally rolling to a stop at Miss Ash's feet.
Damn, ambushed by this evil light point!
Miss Ash sighed, her face bearing a helpless expression as she helped me up.
"How was that, ma'am? My special move just now wasn't bad, right?"
Well, I absolutely can't let Miss Ash know I just accidentally fell. If I, as her caretaker Doll, can't even protect myself, it would be too embarrassing.
"Very impressive." Miss Ash smiled understandingly at me, reaching out to brush off some fine glitter from my head. "Alright, now it's time to practice."

I let out a dry laugh, nimbly jumped up, and stood behind the already set up easel. Already on the canvas were some very light lines and base color blocks forming—ah, yes, it's Miss Ash's portrait. This is... Hmm, this should be what I painted yesterday, um... Next I need to adjust the colors based on light and shadow and ambient light...
I tried hard to push away other thoughts and focused entirely on observing Miss Ash sitting on the large light point. The light made the wrinkles on her face even more pronounced.
Miss Ash is very strict!
I picked up the palette knife and mixed the paint with thinner and turpentine. Is this color too dark... I hesitantly dabbed the mixed color onto the canvas—
Huh?
Where the brush passed, instead of leaving thick colors, even the previously existing lines disappeared!
How... How could this happen? I looked at the gradually drying paint on the palette and the wet, full brush—I was definitely holding a brush, not an eraser, right?

"What's wrong?"
Miss Ash's serious voice made me shudder—I don't need to shudder, of course. That was simply the preset reaction of my body when the neural module produces a nervous emotion.
That huge white eyeball also quickly moved behind me, as if to peek at my canvas. I hurriedly reached out to cover the canvas, thinking about how to answer Miss Ash.
I really don't know how to explain! How do I tell her—
"No-nothing... It's just that my ideas weren't fully conveyed by this stupid brush! I—I'll try again!"
Afraid of being found out, I didn't look at Miss Ash when answering and quickly picked up the brush full of paint, vigorously smearing it on the canvas. If I tell her my brush might think my painting is too ugly and decided to revert the previously completed parts on its own, I would surely be scolded with furrowed brows! That's the strict Miss Ash!
But the strange situation occurred again. No matter how I wielded the brush, the colors wouldn't stay on the canvas. Instead, the already painted color blocks and lines were gradually disappearing.

This is... What on earth is going on?!
"Miss Ash... I think, I think I've run into trouble. Could you come take a look at my canvas—"
When I mustered the courage to look at that light point, the person sitting on it was gone.
"Ma'am? Miss Ash?"
I looked around. The white eyeball passed by and the night sky flowed away with it. My surroundings were white again, but the night sky above my head was still twinkling.
"Miss Ash... Ma'am..."
Miss Ash... Who is that? Who was it again, I clearly remembered... she is—she is a very strict woman, yes, pale-faced, her hair is... Her hair is...
Miss Ash... Who is that?

That huge white eyeball stopped blinking, shining on me like a searchlight. Almost simultaneously, I heard a "pop" sound again, this time from the back of my head. My body's performance index began to fluctuate rapidly with this sound.
Soon, a second eyeball appeared, then a third, a fourth... My shadow disappeared under the intense light. Only white remained in my field of vision. This time I could no longer remain standing and could only crouch down and hug myself.
Calm down, at a time like this, just shout one, two, three, and the world will calm down.
Yes, that's right, just shout—

"...What's wrong with you?"
Who?!
"Oh my, is your body broken? Poor thing... but we can't perform repairs now..."
I lifted my head. The person in front of me had a gentle voice, but their face was blurry. I rubbed my eyes but could still only see a vague outline.
"My—my eyes—"
"Eyes? What's wrong with your eyes, is the sensor broken?"
The scene before me seemed to clear up a bit. I saw a blurry orange figure bouncing closer.
"...Perhaps it's just the blusterous wind fooling my eyesight. A brief respite would suffice."
My sense of balance seemed to have recovered as well. I didn't want to worry them, so I made up an excuse and slowly stood up straight.
"Wow—this! Did you paint this? It's amazing!" Another slightly childish voice came. I heard the sound of her picking up the easel.
"...I suppose so..." I was indeed... painting just now.
"It's so good—! If possible, could you paint one for me too?" This time it was an overly lively voice.
"Oh? You're being too abrupt... don't suddenly trouble someone like that!" A cute voice.
"But I also think it looks good, um... I'd like a portrait too..." An endearing voice.
"Shouldn't we ask the person in question first?" A mature and slightly cold voice.
All voices fell silent. Although their faces were still unclear, I could feel their gazes gathering on my face. The expectation in their gazes seemed to be burning my neural module. I could almost feel the heat generated by the neural module in my body. This heat began to make my face feel hot.

"Would you please paint a portrait for us?" The gentle voice said.

"...I can." My own voice.
If I refuse, they would surely be disappointed.
But can I really? I don't even know them, or what they look like—wait, do I really not know them?
I dazedly walked behind the easel. There seemed to be some color blocks on the canvas already. I dazedly grabbed a brush again.
Many people gathered around me with various voices.
If I don't paint well, they will surely leave immediately.
The moment this thought arose, the huge white eyeball flew to my side again, blinking rapidly as if sensing my unease. I felt dizzy again.
I shook my head. Don't think about these things now. Anyway, let's give it a try.

I waved the brush, dipping it in the orange paint on the palette. This time, the brush left vivid marks on the canvas.
The lively voice disappeared.
I looked around. The different voices were still chattering away. They seemed to have not noticed that a voice—a person—had disappeared.
With trembling fingers, I tried hard to grip the brush tightly, dipped it in some pink, and waved my arm.
The cute voice disappeared.
Next was the endearing voice, the mature and slightly cold voice... Finally, the gentle and warm voice.

"Don't forget me."
That gentle voice left these words by my ear before disappearing.
"But I don't know you at all—!" I shouted towards the empty wilderness.
"I—I don't even know who you are—I am—"
I wanted to introduce myself first. That would make me seem more virtuosic, right?

But—that's right—who am I?

The wilderness once again became pale and silent, with only the huge, bright white eyeball staring at me.
That eyeball had no eyelid, only a pupil. In the pupil I saw my own inverted reflection—
I stared blankly and vacantly at that self in the pupil. She was also staring at me.

Who am I?

Program warning... Operation interrupted... Please check connection status
Recording information... Detecting... Interrupted
Program... Forced shutdown... Successful

Journal Entry 2

Neural link confirmed... dpjx12c;3a=b
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ████ Group VIP Service and Security Assurance Department Special Personnel Security Team No.35██
Body Model: SSD-62
Imprint Model: KSVK

Beneath the tightly closed bionic eyelids, the visual module detected faint light.
I opened my eyes, and the first scene captured was the deep blue night sky outside the car window. The bright light from the street lamps kept shining on my face, flickering on and off. It might have affected my visual balance sensor, making me feel a bit dizzy—this feeling was strangely familiar, as if I had experienced it not long ago.
Yes, just like the feeling when I saw the white eyeball flickering rapidly in the dream earlier.

Before I could clear up the situation, accompanied by a sharp scraping sound, I was thrown to one side by the huge inertia, then pulled back to the seat by the safety belt fastened on me.
"Wha—what happened?!"
I tightly grasped the safety belt across my chest, turning my head left and right like participating in a safety test.
"Self-diagnosis complete?"
The person sitting in the driver's seat looked at me, revealing a warm smile.
"Ah... yes..."
"Wait a moment, let me first—" she violently turned the steering wheel, stomping hard on the accelerator, "—shake off these annoying bugs."
The jeep I was in made a U-turn, scraping past the roadside guardrail and bolting towards the few cars following behind us. Those cars swerved sharply to avoid us, crashing straight into the guardrail and plunging into the dark night.
What is this? Are we filming a movie?

As I recovered from the dizziness, the person beside me parked the car in the shadow of a building—we seemed to be on some very high road, as I couldn't see the bottom of the tall buildings around us.
"Alright, we're safe for now." The blue-haired Doll rested both hands on the steering wheel, smiling as she looked at me, her expression also showing some concern, "What exactly happened earlier?"
What happened... what? What is she talking about? I don't know, how should I answer—
I blinked, answering while avoiding direct eye contact with her.
"The most undesirable thing in my memory is that this snake-like safety belt is about to deform my internal modules. You should take partial responsibility for this, Miss."
Although I didn't look at her directly, I didn't let my guard down due to her kindness. This is what a mature Doll should do.

Her brows furrowed slightly.
"What are you talking about? When I found you, you were in the maintenance room. Your neural cloud was about to be reset."
What maintenance? I haven't been to any maintenance room recently and I haven't done anything, why would the company reset me—wait, what company... What was it again...
"What exactly happened?"
My lips moved twice, but I had no answer to this question, I couldn't even muster a sentence to bluff my way out of this.

Seeing my continued silence, the blue-haired Doll leaned closer in confusion, her beautiful face enlarging in my view. I stared at her face, examining it carefully and I finally decided to ask directly.
"Um, who are you?"
Her expression became more solemn and she simply turned her whole body to face me.
"Who am I, huh? You don't recognize me anymore?"
"What... What's the matter?" I felt somewhat resistant to her attitude, as if she thought I was pretending not to know. "Who exactly are you? Where is this? Why am I in your car? And who were those people chasing us? It can't be... It can't be that we're some legendary phantom thieves, right? What's going on?!"
Anxious emotions seemed to rise up from within as I asked these questions, boiling over into the small, cramped space that was the car. She looked at me for a while, stopping my constant struggling movements and spoke in a soft voice.
"It's okay, calm down first."

I took her advice, letting my neural cloud gradually calm down. As the confusion subsided, an inexplicable sense of trust gradually emerged, but I still couldn't remember who she was—this was even more frustrating. To cover it up and not wanting to see her disappointed expression because I couldn't remember, I quickly averted my gaze.
"It's okay, it's okay."
Her voice was as soft as if comforting a child.

"Who are you... I can't remember... Who, who am I... Eh?"
"Although it can't take effect immediately, it's fine to write it down... Just make sure it doesn't get changed, okay."
A confirmation message popped up in my Level II and then it was quickly confirmed without my control. When I came to my senses, I noticed that my affiliation information had changed, from a long string of some company and some team to a relatively shorter name.

███.

Although it's strange to describe it this way as a Doll, those were indeed a warm string of characters, seeming to awaken all the goodness in the world. But I couldn't help feeling sad—for this string of characters, only the residual emotions in my neural cloud were clearest, while the recorded data was scattered and fragmented.
"Do you have any impression of this name?"
She still looked at me calmly and gently. I focused my attention on this name.
"A little... This is, this is... Co-Commander?"
Her expression seemed to relax a bit.
"Yes, try to defragment your neural data with this name as the keyword."

I supported my head and my neural module started to operate at high speed. Perhaps it was an illusion, but I felt that the heat generated by its operation seemed to be melting something—probably something like a layer of ice, and the things under the icy layer gradually became clear.
Great... I haven't really forgotten the past, let alone forgotten the Commander.
"I remember some things! I—we, used to work together? At... um... at a PMC called Griffin, we... With the Commander and more Dolls, right?"
She smiled more happily.
"Anything else?"
"Also..." I tried hard to connect those fragmented pieces of information, "It seems we knew each other even earlier, um..."
"It looks like the damage is limited, the data is mostly still there, it just needs some time to repair... Fortunately, we discovered it in time."
She started the car again and we drove out from under the shadow of the building.

"...So where are we going now?"
"For now, let's leave the city first, it's best if we can get to the contaminated zone. I heard—"
Her words were interrupted by a sharp scraping sound. It was the sound of bullets grazing the car body and I almost jumped up.
"They're here again?!"
"Looks like these guys are—very persistent about you!" she said as she drove the car towards a section of road under construction.
"Look out! Watch out in front! Wah—"

Just before the jeep was about to crash into the warning sign, she unbuckled my safety belt and we rolled out of the fast-moving car together. We rolled continuously towards the building by the roadside, right into the shadows, and the people chasing us didn't discover us for the moment. They continued to chase after the out-of-control jeep, rushing into the open construction section.
I ran towards the entrance of the building, following the blue-haired Doll.
Although I still didn't fully understand what had happened, the remaining information in my neural cloud told me that I needed to keep up with her. What is this? A kind of quick decision-making scheme based on long-term behavior and environment... Humans often call it "intuition".
I quickened my pace, changing from being led by her to running side by side.
I can't lag behind. We need to escape from this city together.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 3

Neural link confirmed... dpjx12c;3a=b
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ████
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KSVK

I open my eyes to see a blue head in front of me, with the dark night sky in the distance.
Blinking, my vision gradually clears. The person before me has an expression that clearly says, "I want to know what happened to you, but I'm afraid to ask in case it disturbs your fragile neural cloud."

"...What happened to me?"
I rub the back of my neck, where a strange sensation lingers.
"Although we tricked our pursuers once, they caught up with us again and then you were hit," she says, helping me up. I look around—we seem to be on the rooftop of a building.

"Right... I think I remember that, but... didn't I dodge? Like all heroes in dire straits, I tried hard to dodge and counterattack."
She sighs softly.
"I don't know about being a hero, but after you dodged, your neural cloud signal was interrupted for a while."
"Was it some kind of signal interruption?"

Her expression became a bit grave, "No... It was more like neural cloud confusion. When you occasionally woke up, you'd punch and kick me. You even tried to bite me when I was carrying you away."
"What...? A brave hero doesn't bite in a fight!"
"Is that really the point?"
"You're... injured." I grab her arm, where the delicate artificial muscle was now riddled with holes, with some broken wires and sensors exposed. A pitiable sight. "Did I do this?"
"No, well, not entirely."

I touch the back of my neck again, my mouth opening and closing before I finally decide to tell her.
"I might have, um, fallen victim to those evil guys' scheme."
She tilts her head, "Meaning?"
"Well, I might have been infected with a virus."
"A virus?"
"Yes." I avoid her gaze, pointing to the back of my neck. "I can recall some fragments... Someone seems to have loaded a program into my body. It must have been when you said I was captured. There's a warning record in my self-diagnostic program too."

We fall silent for a moment. She pats my head and hands me a roll of insulation tape.
"Don't worry, I'll find a way to fix you. But you need to fix me first. I can't handle it alone."
I take the tape and help her reconnect the wires controlling the hydraulic rods in her arm.
It's only now that I realize my condition isn't much better. Only one of my two legs is still controllable and the weight-bearing joint at the knee is twisted—it looks like she helped me restore it. It's fortunate that I still have one usable leg, otherwise she'd have to push me around in a wheelchair.
After wrapping the wires with tape, I sit down casually next to her.
"Those people chasing us, are they trying to... destroy me?"
"Why do you say that?"
I glance at her quickly.
"...Actually, just now, some fragments seemed to surface in my neural cloud." I gaze at the sky. Due to the bright lights of this city in the White Zone, the sky appears in varying shades of black.
From the rooftop where we are, we can see the nearby station—if we can board the intercontinental train, we'll have a chance to escape in the contaminated zone. Then... Then we can look for an abandoned factory to repair our bodies. Yes, and the underground brokers! We can buy parts from them... She should have money, right? Well, even if she doesn't, she'll find a way. Then, maybe we can go find...
Huh? Who was I thinking of finding?
Whether it's due to the virus or not, a familiar string of data seems to have receded into darkness, causing me inexplicable anxiety.
I search desperately, recalling many terms... I remember a woman dressed in a black coat, but I know this isn't the person I want to find.
This fact makes me want to cry a little.

"What did you remember?" Seeing that I didn't continue, she finally interrupts my wandering thoughts. "You just mentioned fragments surfacing, does that mean you remembered something?"
"Ah... Oh! Yes, I remembered—um, I remembered why my fate was changed."
"...Can you explain it simply and clearly?" She sticks a piece of tape on the damaged part of my face.
"Simply put, I seem to have learned something I shouldn't have." I look at her seriously, finding that she's also waiting earnestly for me to continue. "Um... I think I was on a plane and I overheard the boss of that whatever company talking on the phone. I had just finished a temporary maintenance check and seeing she was busy, I didn't disturb her."
"And then?"
"Then, the plane landed and we walked down the plane's stairs."
I slowly, bit by bit, reconstruct that clear night in my neural cloud.
A middle-aged woman in a plain black coat walks in front of me. She's not very tall, with ordinary features. She was kind to people, always concerned about whether or not our supplies were sufficient, if we have everything we want—overall, a decent boss.

"After we got off... I think I told her to remember to drink more water. Her voice was a bit hoarse when she was on the phone, and after all, staying hydrated is good for skin care too." I carefully recall her expression at that time. "She thanked me with a smile and then we parted ways... Um, I went to the security guard transport and then... that transport took me to the research lab, where a group of maintenance staff said there was a problem with my identification signal. So I followed them to the maintenance room, where there were very bright spotlights. The white light from the spotlights was very glaring on my face. After that, I lost consciousness."
The person beside me nods slightly.
"That matches up. I found you in the research lab. At that time, your body was forcibly shut down and the safety measures of your neural cloud were also disabled."
"Wait, how do you know all this?"
She closes her mouth, blinks her beautiful big eyes, then pretends to cough.
"Intuition."
I explode with anger.
"You're lying to me!"

I try to stand up to accuse her, but forget that I only have one usable leg now. Caught off guard, I fall towards the edge of the rooftop, but fortunately, she grabs my collar in time, helping me regain balance.
"Thinking about it now, the boss must have realized I overheard her conversation on the plane, which led to everything that followed," I say dejectedly as I slump back down. "By the way, did you notice anything unusual when you found me—I mean, apart from me being shut down?"
She pauses for a moment, then opens her mouth.

"They were resetting your neural cloud... It looked like the preliminary procedure for destroying a Doll. I forcibly interrupted the process."

So that's how it is. It's because I heard something I shouldn't have. It's because I finished the temporary maintenance too early. It turns out that even someone who seemed so kind was just treating me as a tool. If a tool might pose a threat to oneself, of course, destroying it is the safest choice.
Thinking it through carefully, all of this is because I was too careless. It's my fault. Eavesdropping on the boss was already wildly inappropriate, and then I went and spoke to her about it without realizing.
I was indeed too full of myself.
I steal a glance at the person seated opposite me. Why did she insist on saving me? I know our relationship is quite good, but—am I really worth saving?
I've already dragged her into this and I don't even know why. At least now I must find out—

"Let me think... What I heard on the plane was... um..." My neural module emits noise.
"Wait, your neural cloud is unstable now. Don't try to forcibly retrieve records."
"No." I hear another error prompt. "I don't know what effect that program will have on my neural cloud. If I end up forgetting everything, I at least want to know—want you to know—what I heard at that time."
The temperature of my body is rising and that layer of ice in my neural cloud starts to melt again. Blurred voices appear in my ears. It's the rumble of the plane's engines, the beeping of the autopilot system, and... and the slightly hoarse voice of the middle-aged woman.
I open my mouth, emitting a voice that doesn't sound like my own.
"...seats... control quantity... reached expectation..."

The woman in front of me widens her eyes slightly and at the same time, I find that I've lost control over my body.
"What's wrong with you? Hey! Can you hear me?"
She shakes me and I feel dizzy. I want to tell her to stop shaking, but I can't make any response. I let her shake me, thinking silently that my eyes must look very dull right now.
Soon after, I hear gunshots. She hoists me up and jumps off the rooftop. I hear the noise of her knee joints twisting, then the sound of her running at full speed. Behind us are the chaotic footsteps and the sound of machine gun fire.
Finally, there's the sound of the wind blowing through her hair and the noise of my body's operation.
It would have been more convenient to put me in a wheelchair and push me around like this.

My vision sinks into darkness.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 4

Neural link confirmed... dpjx12c;3a=b
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation: ████
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KSVK

I tighten my fingers. Beneath the delicate sensation of artificial muscle is flowing oil and alloy bearings.
The person lying on the ground frowns, the greenish light on her making her blue hair look like a patch of seaweed.
Who is she?

An enemy.

My body is covered in wounds, some places even showing exposed alloy plates and skeletal structures. Though the specifics are unclear, such severe injuries couldn't possibly be self-inflicted, right? My recent neural cloud records only show being with this person.
"Who are you? Where is this? Why did you bring me here?"
I try to lower my voice, doing my best to mimic the cold tone of movie villains.
Now her hands are pinned behind her back by me, my body pressing down on her back. The Doll I have firmly under control shows no resistance, just quietly turning her head to look ahead.
"Do you... know... who... you are..."
Her voice is a bit broken up as I'm pressing down on her and I barely manage to hear clearly.
Who am I? What kind of question is that? Of course I know, I'm... I'm the fearless warrior, the loyal guard, the protector of the entire Earth—I am—
I am... Who am I?

After a careful search, my neural cloud is blank regarding information about myself.
Of course, I can't let my enemy know this.
"I am the fearless warrior, a loyal guard, the protector of all the earth."
My answer must have been full of confidence.

The person on the ground shows a helpless smile. The next second, she suddenly breaks free from my restraint, pushing me aside. Now, the situation is reversed, I'm pinned to the ground by her, my hands locked behind my back and my head even receives a merciless chop!
"Ouch—what are you doing!"
She ignores me, continuing to pat my head, not too hard, but this feeling... It feels like she's fixing some old appliance with a bad connection.
"Stop—stop hitting me!"
She stops at my protest, leaning in a bit closer.
"Do you recognize me now?"
"Yes, yes, I do!"
This isn't just placating her. When she counterattacked, I filtered out a name from those scattered pieces of information in my neural cloud. Her image successfully established a connection with this name and with this as a trigger, more information fragments were linked together. At the same time, I also remembered my name and our relationship.
"I know—we're colleagues, right! We work together! Alright, stop hitting me!"

She chuckles and releases me, helping me to lie down on a nearby piece of equipment, then plugs a connection cable into the port at the back of my neck. Then, she starts to operate the equipment beside us.
"What else do you remember?"
I look at the greenish ceiling above, "Well—we're being chased, right? I seem to have been loaded with a strange program, it's a virus and then we escaped together to the satellite city. By the way, where is this?"
"Do you remember after we got off the satellite train, we saw a suspicious person sneaking into the sewer?" She turns her head slightly, her hands not stopping.
"Oh, oh, I remember that, what about him?"
"This seems to be that person's secret base. He's an underground broker and this place is probably being used as a transit point for illegal goods." She walks to my side, connecting some strange cables to my body. "Luckily there are parts, equipment, and power here, so I've borrowed them for a bit."
"With all that commotion earlier, won't he discover us?!" I raise my hand, letting the cable pass through my waist.
"I've checked, he left here not long ago to pick up goods elsewhere, now this place is empty. I've dealt with the surveillance and alarm systems."
"Oh oh—then can we go exploring later?"
She shows a bright smile, making the gloomy green room a bit brighter.
"Really... it's been so long since I heard you mention exploring, how many years has it been?"
I'm stunned. After checking all the connections, she turns to go back to the control panel. Before she leaves, I grab her.
"What's wrong?"

I hesitate for a moment.
"Um... what's Griffin?"

Her hand stiffens for an instant. Before I can react, she has already pulled her hand away, patted me on the head and returned to the control panel.
She doesn't answer my question and we don't talk anymore.
Actually, I'm really afraid when she's like this, it feels like I've disappointed her somehow. Did I do something wrong again? Because I can't remember what Griffin is, she's disappointed, right?
If even she is disappointed, then if it's... that person my neural cloud says it belongs to...
Would that person be even more disappointed?
Feeling my eyes getting a bit wet, I close them, starting to avoid reality.

I don't know how long it's been, but she walks back to my side and forcibly opens my eyelids.
"Wha-what are you doing?" I turn my face away, breaking free from her fingers.
"Looks like your neural cloud hasn't crashed again." She pats my face. "There's bad news and good news, which do you want to hear?"
"The good news, I guess." I say, glumly.
"Hmm, the good news is, when I was escaping with you, I temporarily shut down the signal transmitter in your body."
"Then what's the bad news?"
"The bad news is, just now the signal transmitter was activated by the virus program loaded in your body and the pursuers can find you again based on the identification code you're transmitting."
"Huh? Isn't there no good news at all then! Then we—we should run quickly—"
"I'm not finished, there are two pieces of bad news." She pushes me back down as I try to jump up from the equipment, causing various connection lines to shake.
"...There's something even worse?"
"Yes, the purpose of that virus program, besides causing your neural cloud to crash periodically, is to gradually overwrite your neural cloud records, which is why you lose some information after each crash." She leans down, looking at me seriously. "So, now we need to find a way to stabilize your neural cloud first, before we can talk about escaping. I don't want you to crash and shut down halfway."

I want to be as calm as her, even pretending to take two deep breaths, but as soon as I open my mouth, tears are on the verge of falling.
Will I gradually forget everything? To be honest, there are already very few neural cloud records I can immediately and accurately retrieve now...
What should I do in the future? Where should I go? Damn it, I'm a warrior and warriors don't cry because they're afraid of being alone. I force the tears back.
"...In the end, will I... forget even what's happening now?"

She reaches out a finger, poking at the insulating tape on my face, confirming that the modules without artificial muscle protection are still functioning normally and haven't short-circuited due to moisture.
"Maybe, but I'll do my best to avoid that outcome." She winks at me. "But first, we both need to survive."
She falls silent for a moment, then speaks again.
"Even if we're temporarily separated, you must survive well. Just don't forget this one thing, Dushevnaya."

Dushevnaya... that is indeed my name, but I feel as if she doesn't usually call me that. Her words fill me with an ominous feeling.
I want to nod, to tell her I remember, but I find I've lost control of my body. My body starts to heat up, my perception becoming blurry. I seem to have become a ghost again, only able to float in the air, unable to affect reality.
Is my neural cloud about to crash again?
It seems not, this time I'm still conscious. A clear yet terrifying result is calculated—she's deceiving me.

"I'm sorry, but if I take you with me, fighting and escaping at the same time would be too difficult. You'll regain control of your body in 10 hours, stay here during this time."
She uses connection lines to connect me to a strange small device and wraps them together.
Is she going to leave me behind? No, she just said I've been located, am I... being used as bait?
Indeed, it was me who the pursuers originally wanted to destroy and continuing to flee with me would only burden her.
It was already remarkable that she was willing to lend a helping hand before... so even if she abandons me now, I won't blame her.
Yes, she shouldn't have gotten involved with me from the beginning.

She carries me out of the room, coming to a place that looks like a warehouse and puts me in a supply box.
I should still thank her for helping me escape for so long and finally hiding me away, probably not wanting me to be found quickly. If it's just her alone from now on, she should still have a chance to escape, right? After all, the pursuers' target is me—

Wait! My identification code has been erased!
I look at her in shock, she smiles and covers my eyes with her hand.
"Now, take a rest. Leave the rest to me."

I hear what seems to be an explosion nearby, they've found this place! My identification code has been erased—the ID code is bound to the neural cloud information, erasing it can't be done in a short time—could it be, could it be that instead of erasing, she transferred my identification code to her neural cloud information—she—she is the bait!

"Goodbye, Dushevnaya."
She seals the supply box.

My vision blurs, I hear her footsteps leaving and I struggle to call out to her.

"...Wait—"

What was her name again?
I knew it just now! That name was still in my neural cloud just moments ago!
Could it be... It's already been overwritten by the virus program? No way...
Calm down, I know it, that name must still be there, it's just in some corner of my neural cloud, calm down, if I search carefully...

What is her name?!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 5

Neural link confirmed... dpjx12c;3a=b
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... k980w,[d32b!

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading confirmed... Successful

Affiliation... Read failed
Body Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: KSVK

I open my eyes. It's dark around me, just like the night sky I dreamed of.
Dolls don't dream, those dreams must be fragments of information stored in my neural cloud.
Who once told me this... I can't remember.

A sudden violent jolt throws me up, my forehead hitting the iron casing above.
Ouch—seems like I've been thrown around a lot lately. I rub my forehead, then feel my surroundings, confirming that I'm in a box.
Apart from the faint sound of wind and the sputtering engine of a vehicle, there are no other sounds. It should be safe. With some effort, I open the box from the inside and attempt to survey my surroundings.
This is an ordinary supply box placed in a truck, full of miscellaneous items... Why am I here?
Light shines into the box. I see the many connections of wires attached to my body and the strange device placed in the corner of the box.
Good news and bad news... Green light... Insulation tape connecting the wires... The safety belt securing me in place...
The fragments gradually piece together.

I tumble out of the supply box, fumbling for the latch on the truck's cargo door. Violent wind carrying yellow and green dust blows in, catching me off guard, my visual module getting completely covered.
...I'm already in a contaminated zone, riding in an underground broker's truck.
I seem to have... wanted to come here countless times before... to do what?
She and I... seem to have wanted to come here to find someone... Who?
She... Who is she again...?

In the midst of chaos, I jump off the truck, rolling in the sand several times before finally stopping after hitting a fairly large rock.
As a result of jumping off the truck, the already "barely covering" artificial muscles on my body have fallen off even more, with only scattered pieces still hanging on. The exposed alloy levers look like bones, making me look like a skeleton. I must look terrifying like this. But no matter what, I need to find her first.
She is the only person I can still remember, who knows about my past...
The person who can guide me to find my "treasure".

Fortunately, my neural cloud is still functioning relatively normal and there are no signs of crashing for now. It's just slightly overheating...
Right, that program, that virus, it will gradually overwrite my neural cloud information.
No, I can't lose the few neural records I have left.

I stagger forward, repeating the characteristics recorded in my neural cloud... Her characteristics.
Blue hair... gray eyes... soft voice...
Tch... this error prompt is so annoying! It's just the elbow joint deforming and the hydraulic rod in the forearm leaking fluid...
I grip my left wrist with my right hand, forcefully pulling off the dangling forearm. This should quiet things down for a while.
Blue hair... gray eyes... we often operate together...
The left leg isn't moving well either, this sand dune ahead... what to do... If I can climb up, the height should be enough to observe the surrounding environment... Okay, let's try.
Blue hair, gray eyes... we were going to the contaminated zone to find someone...
I climb up on all fours. The wind hinders my steps and direction, forcing me to stop and check every so often.
Blue hair... gray eyes... I mustn't forget, we're looking for... looking for...
Should be almost there, right? Why are there error messages again... low power? Tch... I should have looked for a spare power source in the truck earlier... I'm always like this, can't do anything right, always disappointing people...
Blue hair... Um... Just two more steps...

At the top of the sand dune, I struggle to stand up straight. All around me are howling winds and sand, and an endless wilderness. This place looks like a sealed-off world.
Apart from this, I can't see anything.
"There's... nothing at all..."
...Why did I climb up here again? Seems like there was something very important...
Where is... this... What am I... doing here...

Warning: Low power

Journal entry module... sav=kp[ar-
...
...
...Closed

Area module... Closing... Complete

Frame self-check... Complete
System self-check... Complete
Neural cloud... [98b=a;!
Permissions... Confirmed
Weapon control system... Closing... Complete
Terrain DM... Closing...
Cognitive NSS... Closing...
Body temperature... Decreasing... Cooling complete
Field of vision... Closing... Complete
Remaining power... 0.3%
Power unit... Preparing to shut down... Shutting down...

Affiliation: ████
Body model: SSD-62D
Imprint model: KSVK

Shut down

"Mom! Mom—come quick! She's awake! Mom!"
"Ha, this is a Doll, it's booting up, not waking up. Ah, it was so hard to fix, I hope it can be of some use."
"Doll?"

I open my eyes and before me is a young, cute face.

"Are you... the ones who awakened me?"

Meltdown Threshold

Summary

During Griffin & Kryuger's restructuring, ^SMG MP7MP7MP7 was one of the Dolls selected to remain at the PMC, but her self-proclaimed rival ^SMG Honey BadgerHoney BadgerHoney Badger decided to leave and become independent. Bored by the small scale of the missions now handled by Griffin, MP7 completes her first combat mission in her “genius” way by sticking her targets to the ground with magnets, but Helian isn't happy about the damage her strategy caused. MP7 is still convinced that Griffin needs to make a show to recapture the interest of clients, and decides to repurpose her previous idea by applying magnetic levitation to the entire Griffin HQ. An incident during testing wrecks her body, and Helian has Dier (who's temporarily acting as Griffin's mechanic on Kalina's request) put her in a cheaper and shorter body frame. Now assigned to Frostfall Squad since she can't be left without supervision, MP7 must save up money to pay for her original body model out of her own pocket. Following Qiongjiu's example, MP7 changes her name to Cheeta. Unfortunately for Helian and Qiongjiu, working with a squad and the need to save up money does nothing to dial down her wrecking-ball behavior.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: MP7H1

Connecting neural module... Successful
Program... Initiating... Successful

Woohoo!
The stand-by time is finally over! There haven't been any missions these past few days, and I had to be on stand-by all the time without being allowed to go out. I couldn't even see Honey Badger. I couldn't stand another second of such boring days!

It seems like a lot of people are missing from headquarters, even Caretaker’s gone, and life has gotten way too dull.
Caretaker's Caretaker—Miss Helian—said she'd send me the next work assignment and told me to find her after I receive it. I wonder what she wants... Just to be clear, I'm not scared of her or anything, and it's not like I don't want to see her. It's just that she always has this cold, stern face that makes you feel like no matter what you say, she'll just shoot it down.
But when I applied to stay at Griffin, she agreed without saying anything... Well, duh! What else would she say to a genius like me? Griffin’s going through a really tough time, right? They can't do without someone as talented as me who can handle five tasks at once! Ah, speaking of which, Caretaker's Caretaker just sent over a mission... Why is the notification sound going off non-stop? Uh, so many?!
Staring at the new message notifications popping up on the terminal screen, I thought for a moment and hit the mute button. If so many missions are coming in at once, it means they probably aren't urgent, right? Anyway, I'll put them aside for now and go find Honey Badger for a showdown! I've got a new strategy that will definitely make her admit defeat this time!
Hmm, at this time she should be...

Where is she?
Like a super-efficient robot vacuum, I swept through every place I could think of, but I couldn't find any trace of Honey Badger.
Ugh, don't tell me that scaredy-cat ran away?
"What are you doing here?"
Uh-oh—
I turned my head stiffly. It was her... Caretaker's Caretaker. Oh no, if I tell her I put the super important mission aside to hunt down Honey Badger for a duel, I'm toast!
"I—I lost something," I blurted out, instantly squatting down and pretending to search the ground.
"What did you lose? If it's important, we can check the surveillance footage," she said, rubbing her temple. Then she continued in the exact same tone, "But your priority should be completing your mission. I sent the list to your terminal earlier, but I haven't received any reply."
"I-I know that! I was totally about to look at it super carefully before replying!" I stammered, suddenly feeling less awesome as I looked at her crossed arms. "But hey, forget about that for a sec—do you know where Honey Badger is? I can't find her anywhere!"
"Honey Badger?" She narrowed her eyes. Yikes, she looks even scarier!
"Didn't you say you were looking for something you lost? Did you lose Honey Badger?"
Aaah!! "Umm—" Think fast, genius MP7!
"I... uh... I actually think Honey Badger might've taken whatever I lost! Yeah, that's it!"
I was pretty proud of that excuse. I tried to look cool, putting my hands behind my head as I faced the ice queen. Her eyebrow twitched, and I could've sworn I heard teeth grinding.
...Nah, I must be hearing things!

After what felt like forever, she closed her eyes and let out a silent sigh. "Honey Badger... has already left."
Wow, she actually answered me! Wait a sec, what did she say—
"Left... gone?" It took my super-smart neural cloud a few seconds to compute that. A pretty rare situation for a genius like me!
"You mean she's not here anymore? But... how come? Where'd she go? Why'd she leave?"
Caretaker's Caretaker started rubbing her temples again.
"It was her choice. She didn't stay with Griffin and refused reassignment. Griffin won't interfere with where she decided to go, and so there’s no record of it."
So... Honey Badger just vanished? Went poof without a word? I'll never see her again?
The ice queen continued, "As for why, I suppose she has things she wants to do."
Things she wants to do—ha! I get it now. I, the genius, have figured it all out!
"Hmph, bet she ran off somewhere to secretly upgrade her system, right?" I said, hands on my hips, looking all smug. "That's just like her lame ideas. Pfft, even if she got a million upgrades, she'd still never beat me!"

I mean, duh! Even if she hides and levels up, she's only making herself stronger. But me? I'll become the superstar Doll of the PMC world with my amazing skills! Everyone will want Griffin for their missions, and we'll be number one again! Then I'll go down in history as Griffin's savior—just thinking about that title gets me really pumped! Ha, Honey Badger could never reach my level!
I stood up straight, feeling all fired up, and looked at the ice queen.
"Hey, Ms. Caretaker's Caretaker!"
"...Are you talking to me?"
"Of course! Give me a mission already! I'm gonna put Griffin back on top!" I thumped my chest to look extra reliable. "Heh, bet that sneaky Honey Badger can't do this! All she's got waiting for her is her crying her eyes out when she realizes how awesome I am!"

I stood there, hands on hips, waiting for... well, anything. But Caretaker's Caretaker just looked even sterner.
"Let's leave Honey Badger out of this... Didn't I just send you the mission details?"
"Oh, right..." What's going on? Is it 'cuz Honey Badger's gone? I'm so off my game today! I pulled out my terminal and checked the unread stuff.
"Let's see what super important thing needs my genius—fixing a tractor? Huh?" I looked up at her, but she was still all stony-faced. I double-checked the mission. "Why... why do I have to do this boring stuff?"
"You seem to have the expertise."
"That's not the point!" I shoved the terminal in her face. "I'm asking why you're bothering me—the greatest genius of the century—over such trivial tasks?!"
She took a deep breath.
"There is no such thing as a trivial mission."

Ugh, there she goes again with that boring serious talk. I'm not falling for it! I quickly checked the other missions: Finding lost pets, doing maintenance on power generators, updating boring systems... What even is this?
"Hold up, I thought Griffin was a PMC, not some housekeeping service!" I felt my own brow furrowing to match hers. "What's with all these lame missions?"
This time, she didn't clam up, but she still sounded all calm and collected.
"MP7, Griffin isn't what it used to be anymore... We have to start small."

"But... but!" My confidence deflated under her icy stare. "Doing this stuff won't show how amazing I am! I won't stand out at all... Forget becoming Griffin's savior or making that Honey Badger admit I'm better. She'd probably just laugh at me... I..."
Caretaker's Caretaker pursed her lips, looking even colder: "...What was that about Griffin's savior?"
"Ah, that's... that's not important!" I quickly looked down. Ugh, maybe I should just take this stupid mission on?
...No way! I can't give up!

"I get it."
Huh?
"Then, I'll give you this mission."
A new message popped up on my terminal. A combat mission to take out some armed bandits... Tsk, this kind of thing used to be no big deal, but now...

"Alrighty, I'll do it!"

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: MP7H1

Connecting neural module... Successful
Program... Initiating... Successful

Ugh, Caretaker’s Caretaker is glaring at me like some creepy gargoyle statue.

What's her problem? Tsk, it's just a few magnetizing doohickeys and magnetic field thingamajigs. No biggie! I totally nailed a mission all by myself... Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly a huuuge mission... But hey, at least it beats fixing cars or chasing after lost puppies!
Sigh... If I'd known it'd be such a pain, I might've thought up something even more brilliant back then.

"Are you reflecting on your actions?"
Whoa, the gargoyle speaks!
"Reflect on what? This isn't my fault!" I crossed my arms, ready to school this gargoyle on some facts. "Look, I told you already. The bad guys were all spread out in different spots, about to make a run for it. If they'd reached the contamination zone, it would've been a total nightmare! I had to figure out how to hit 'em all at once. And since I can't be everywhere at the same time—"
"So you decided to modify magnetizing devices to make everything metal magnetic, then used magnetic field generators to stick the enemies to the ground?" The gargoyle rubbed her forehead like she had a headache. After a pause, she asked, "How on earth did you come up with this idea..."
"What's wrong with my idea? It worked, didn't it?!" She's actually questioning my genius plan!
"How is this any different from pouring glue on the ground to stop them from escaping?"
"Glue? Seriously? That'd never hold 'em down!" This lady is totally clueless!

The gargoyle covered her eyes with her hand. "What I mean is—"
"Alright, alright, enough with the nagging." I put my hands behind my back, kicking the floor with my toe. Maybe if I look a little sorry, she'll lay off. "I just happened to have this stuff lying around, so I came up with this super cool idea. You gotta admit, it's quite an interesting and unusual sight to behold, right? Plus, mission accomplished! Isn't it all fine and dandy?"
And hey, this awesome operation gave me a brilliant new idea! If I don't get to show off my skills on missions, why not find a way to make Griffin super famous? Then everyone will think, 'Wow, Griffin is amazing!'
Yeah, this plan is genius... If everyone thinks Griffin is awesome, that means I saved Griffin!
And if I save Griffin, Caretaker will have a home to return to!
But the best part? This operation helped me come up with the most brilliant plan ever!
"Forget about all that boring stuff. I've got an idea—"

"Fine and dandy? Have you not noticed the unexpected losses we suffered because of this mission?"
The gargoyle tapped the table with her finger, cutting me off. Rude!
"Oh come on... it's just a few magnetizing gizmos plus—"
"And what about the damage to your frame?"
"That—that was just a tiny accident!" Ugh, why's she gotta keep bringing that up?
"Well, okay, so maybe the plan was a teensy bit rough. I mean, we were in a rush and all... And yeah, I might've gotten a little stuck to the ground too... And even though the bad guys couldn't move, they could still kinda fight back... So I got a few scratches..."
"Scratches?"
"Okay, fine! Maybe I took a few direct hits! But who cares about little details like that? Geniuses don't sweat the small stuff!" I shook my head and shrugged. "Besides, who else could've thought of using magnets to stop the bad guys from running away? Ha! Even on a tiny mission, I solve problems with pure genius!"

The gargoyle's eyebrow twitched. She pressed a hand to her forehead again and took a couple deep breaths.
"Couldn't we have solved this in a more... normal way? Like using a Dummy squad to attack from different locations?"
"Normal? Boring! How's that gonna get anyone's attention? It totally ruins my plan to reach my target, so no way!"
"Attention..." Her eyes got all spacey for a second. "Right now... Griffin has already got so many eyes on it; does it really need any more attention?"
"Huh?" What's she going on about now?
The gargoyle ignored me and started muttering to herself.
"Griffin's not what it used to be... Who'd believe in Griffin now? Under these circumstances... should we even keep Griffin going? If we do that... then... it must be in some another way..."
I didn't catch all of that, but I heard those last few words perfectly clear!
She said—some other way! Has she come to the same conclusion as me?

I slammed my hands on the table, getting right in the gargoyle's face.
"That's it!"
The noise snapped her out of it. She went back to her usual ice-queen look, but with a hint of surprise.
"What...?"
"This is it! Another way!" I smacked the table again. "We need another way—right now, we're getting all these lame little jobs 'cuz nobody thinks Griffin is as awesome as before, right? These trivial tasks are wasting my incredible talents! So, to save Griffin, we’ve gotta try something totally different!"
"..."
Caretaker's Caretaker just stared at me in confusion. Ha! Guess she didn't think of a specific 'other way' after all.
"Even if I can't be a superstar on missions, if we find a way to make Griffin super famous all at once, we'll get everyone's trust back and score some real missions!" I stretched out my arms and did a little spin. "And by doing this, I'll still be Griffin's ultimate savior. Ha! I really am a genius!"

"...That's not what I meant by 'some other way'—wait, MP7."
Caretaker's Caretaker came out from behind her desk and grabbed my shoulder. Whoa, personal space much? I'm getting nervous here.
"What are you planning? You're not about to cause more trouble, are you?"
The mumbling Caretaker's Caretaker has returned to full gargoyle mode, giving me the works.
"Uh... I..."

No way, if I spill the beans now, she'll totally shut me down!
"I-I'm gonna do something epic that'll go down in Griffin history!"
I brushed her hand away and backed up fast.
"How else am I gonna make that Honey Badger admit I'm the best? Just you wait and see!"
"MP7!"
I shouted something that sounded way more confident than I felt and bolted out of the gargoyle's office, trying my best to ignore the angry yelling coming from inside.
Phew, that was close! Can't let her find out about my genius plan... Gotta move fast. Once I show her the incredible results, she won't be able to say no!
Operation Genius starts tonight!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: MP7H1

Connecting neural module... Successful
Program... Initiating... Successful

Woooaahh... this warehouse is huuuuge!
Super high ceilings, practically empty... I can even hear my own voice echo in here! Score one for Team Genius, finding the perfect spot!
I shrugged off my massive backpack and started unpacking my secret weapons. These babies are drones I MacGyvered from spare parts. Nobody knows about 'em, and they're the key to my master plan. I call 'em "hover modules"—part drone, part portable magnetic field generator.
My last brilliant "magnetic suction" tactic got me thinking... If I can stick people to the ground, why not flip the script and make stuff float?
It's just magnetic levitation, baby!
Humans freak out over anything floating in the air. They see a light in the sky and scream "UFO!" Sure, drones are everywhere now, but seeing something really weird floating around? That'll blow their minds! So, picture this: Griffin HQ, just chillin' in mid-air. People's jaws will hit the floor!
No other PMC has ever pulled this off. When Griffin does it? BAM! Everyone'll know we're top dog again. We'll be swimming in high-stakes missions!
Heh, only a genius like me could save Griffin. That stick-in-the-mud Caretaker’s Caretaker? She'd never dream up something this epic!
But no worries. Once I pull this off, she'll finally get how crucial I am!

Alright, experiment time!
I'm calling this bad boy "Operation: Savior." Step one? Build some seriously powerful hover modules. That's what today's test is all about.
I dragged over a couple boxes from the corner. Combat gear, mostly metal. Heavy as heck, but perfect for my experiment.
I tied those suckers together, did some genius-level calculations on weight distribution, metal content, center of gravity... y’know, the works. Plugged it all into my custom formula to figure out the magnetic juice I'd need, how many drones, and where to stick 'em. Then I magnetized those boxes and slapped the hover modules—I mean, the magnetic field generators—on both sides.
Now, I'm no dummy. I knew regular batteries wouldn't cut it for long-term hovering. So, I went full solar power, baby! Saves energy AND keeps the module count manageable. What can I say? Genius is as genius does.

With prep work done, I fired up those hover modules. BAM! Boxes off the ground, just like that.
I carefully worked the remote. The magnetic field generators purred to life. Both sides of the hover modules buzzed like angry bees, lifting those boxes skyward.
I nudged the joystick, trying to steer by tweaking the module positions. Those floating boxes did a sweet turn, looped around in a big circle, and landed right in front of me smooth as butter.
Ha! Piece of cake! Looks like Operation: Savior is a go!
But a true genius never gets cocky. Gotta collect more data, you know?
I grabbed a few more boxes, tied 'em up, and got ready for round two.
This time, I tweaked the magnetic field range and strength based on my calculations. Four hover modules, one on each corner of my box tower. Hit the power... and they didn't get as high. Hmm, not enough oomph? Time to fine-tune the formula.
I pushed the joystick. The hover modules roared louder than before. My box stack made a wider circle this time. Looks like the weaker lift messed with the steering too.
Ugh, what a pain... Gotta make some upgrades.
Just adding more modules might throw off the balance... Oh! I haven't messed with the center of gravity yet! Okay, new plan: Test how different weight distributions affect the hover, then tweak everything at once. It's just fine-tuning, right? No biggie.
I scoured the warehouse for something metal, weirdly shaped, and just the right weight. But all I found were more boxes and random bits of combat gear. Nothing quite—
Wait a sec! The perfect test subject was right under my nose!
I smacked my forehead. Duh! My body is perfect—decent weight, off-center gravity, mostly metal, and it magnetizes so well I got stuck to the ground last time. It's like I was built for this!
Oh man, I really am a genius!

I recalculated everything, magnetized myself, set up the hover modules, and plonked my butt right on top of those boxes.
Gotta be extra careful with the controls this time... It’s my own behind on the line, after all.
The boxes wobbled and rose, drones and magnets working overtime. My dangling feet were a good four meters off the ground. Hey, not bad! Pretty stable. Let's try a spin... No problem! Guess I was worried over nothing.
Ha! Geniuses don't make mistakes. If it can handle this, it can probably handle anything, right?
I cranked that joystick to max. My box tower and I went zooming left. Just before we splattered against the wall, I yanked the stick. The magnetic field generators responded, but momentum's a beast—we shook like crazy before steadying out.
It was like riding a mechanical bull made of boxes! So awesome!
I kept pushing it, making tighter and tighter turns. It was like that old video game... what was it called? Oh yeah, Snake!
Okay, now for the grand finale—WHOA!

I totally forgot to strap myself down! Those crazy turns were too much—I started sliding off! Luckily, I grabbed the edge of a box just in time. The remote? Not so lucky. It went splat on the ground.
Well, even geniuses can't break the laws of physics. But hey, not face-planting counts as a win in my book! Now, how to land this thing... Hold up, what's that noise?
It sounds like... oh no, the hover module's engine!

I looked up just in time to see one of the modules on my side spitting sparks and making a horrible racket. Then it just... died.
Uh-oh.
Everything went to hell in an instant. With the lift all out of whack, it was chaos. Hover module yanking the boxes, boxes yanking me, all of us pinballing around the warehouse like some magnetically charged nightmare.
I glanced down, trying to gauge how much damage a freefall would do to my body. The world was a blur, but my genius brain crunched the numbers.
Good news: I probably wouldn't explode on impact. Bad news: Everything else.
Only one option left!

I let go.
WHAM! I hit the ground hard. Before I could even groan, it started raining boxes. Guns, ammo, and who knows what else came showering down, burying me in a pile of military-grade stupidity.
Talk about rotten luck! I shoved stuff off me, trying to crawl out, but... I couldn't budge. The magnetic field generator must've flipped polarity when the remote hit the ground.
So now I'm basically a really annoyed fridge magnet. Stuck to the floor. Awesome.
I tried to break free, but more junk kept falling. My hover modules—aka the drones—were coming down. Wait a sec... how many of those things did I use? And didn't I pack them full of extra power cells?
Oh no. No-no-no-no—

DetecTion Str=98*[23;Dama&739!
Str0ng(cb321!=936?Sh—.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frontline Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: MP7H1

Connecting neural module... Successful
Program... Initiating... Successful

Ugh... huh? What time is it? I was supposed to be prepping for my awesome experiment tonight—why am I suddenly in sleep mode and stuck in a maintenance pod? This won't do—hm?

Hold on a sec. This isn't my room... Who's that guy? Why is there some random dude here?!
Oh no, did the URNC finally figure out how amazingly smart I am and sent someone to kidnap me—
"Oh, so you’re finally awake?"
The maintenance pod lid popped open, and the guy fiddling with equipment poked his head over.
"Looks like the calibration worked. Can you run a self-diagnostic?"
"...Who are you?" I eyeballed him suspiciously.
"This is Dier, our mechanic."
"Eep!" It's Caretaker's Caretaker!
She's here too? Did she find out about my brilliant plan and come to stop me?

"Hello, MP7."
"Oh, uh, hi... Don't think we've ever met..."
I caught a glimpse of the ice queen herself emerging from the shadows. Brr.
"Kalina called in Dier to help us out. We're swamped and short-staffed, so he's handling emergency Doll maintenance and permission updates."
"Oh, I see... So why are you two here...? And why am I here?"
Wait a sec, didn't she say this guy's here for permission updates?
"Does that mean I can't stay with Griffin? N-no way—why?!"
"Whoa, calm down!" Dier scratched his head. "You just had a gnarly accident. Your frame got totally wrecked, and you didn't have time to back up your neural cloud. So, you probably don't remember squat."
Accident? I was just prepping for my experiment. What kind of accident could've happened?
While I was deep in thought, the projector flickered on, showing security footage of an empty warehouse. A super cute redheaded Doll was messing around with some drones. Then everything went kablooey—drones fell, stuff exploded, and the whole place went up in flames. Then, static.

...Oh. So that's what happened.

"My experiment... failed? But how? I'm supposed to be a genius!" As it turns out, I didn't just have an accident while prepping for the experiment... Dang it!
"Is that really the point here?"
Dier rubbed his forehead while Caretaker's Caretaker's eyes could've frozen lava.
Oops. Me and my big mouth.

"Experiment? Care to explain?"
"Explain? Just, you know, normal experiment stuff. What's there to explain?" I tried playing dumb to buy time.
Caretaker's Caretaker loomed closer. I looked down, trying not to notice the giant shadow she cast.
"Thanks to the fire system and me keeping tabs on you, we caught it fast. No major damage, but you seriously endangered company property."
She was very serious, and her voice sent chills down my spine. I risked a peek at her face, then quickly looked down again.
"Is this related to that 'other way' you mentioned earlier? If you don't come clean, I'll have to assign a babysitter. I can't let a loose cannon Doll run wild."
No way! A babysitter is just a fancy word for a prison guard! I've still got plans!

"Okay, okay! I'll spill! I'll tell you everything!" I paused, trying to sort out my brilliant thoughts. "I'll, uh, start with the big reveal..."
"I wanted to make Griffin HQ float!"

"Huh?"
Dier looked like his brain broke. Caretaker's Caretaker's frown could've cracked granite.
"Let me explain!" I sat bolt upright, waving my arms. "Think about it! If Griffin pulls off something no other PMCs can—like, say, a floating HQ, doesn't that prove we're way better than the rest of them? Then we'd get all the cool missions and be number one again! Isn't that pure genius?"

Dier was speechless. He looked like he needed some time to process what I just said. The ice queen was also silent, and her silence scared me more than any yelling. I slowly put my arms down and sat up straight like a good little Doll.
"Anything else?"
Her tone sent chills down my spine.
"And... well... I thought if we pulled it off, Honey Badger would hear about it no matter where she was. She'd know I saved Griffin... and she'd finally admit how awesome I am..."
Blank stares greeted me.
I focused really hard on my nose.
"That's... that's the 'other way' I mentioned..."
Saying that pretty much drained my batteries. I fidgeted with my fingers, waiting for the hammer to drop.

"Uh..."
It was Dier who broke the silence.
"So it's like kids trying to one-up each other... And a floating building? Isn't that straight out of some pre-WWIII cartoon?"
"No way!"
He dissed my brilliant idea! That’s so not gonna fly! I jumped up, standing in the pod, and jabbed a finger at his nose. "My plan isn't some made-up nonsense! It's totally doable! ...Huh?"
Something felt off. I was standing in the pod, but I had to reach up to point at Dier's nose. The angle didn't seem right...
I looked down. My feet seemed way closer than usual—
"What gives? Why am I so short?!" I grabbed Dier's coat, though I could barely reach his collar. "Did you use the wrong body? Switch me back, pronto!"
"Hey! Quit pulling! This is the body Helian prepared!"

Say what?
It was her...!
I whirled to face the ice queen. She might've scolded me earlier, but now I'm the angry one!
Under my burning gaze, Caretaker's Caretaker let out a tiny sigh.
"We just finished taking inventory two days ago. The type of frame that you use is sealed up in storage. Getting one out would take forever. Plus, suddenly using stored supplies—even if it's just one frame—could cause problems right now."
"No way! If you look hard enough, I'm sure you'll find one! At this height... Honey Badger would totally look down on me!"
"MP7, need I remind you that you just caused severe damage to company property?"
Ugh... One icy glare from her, and my fire fizzled out.

"But... didn't that warehouse have some stuff? If we look again...!" I wasn't giving up.
"This frame came from that warehouse. It's for storing temporary supplies." She rubbed her temples so hard I could see a vein throbbing on her forehead. "The frame you're in now is also an SSD-62D. It's perfectly compatible. If you want a different one, you're footing the bill."
"You mean... I gotta pay for it with my own money?"
"Indeed. Want a new frame? Better start saving up."
"Pfft, it's just one lousy frame... I've got tons of genius ideas... I'll save up and show you! Bleh!" I stuck my tongue out at her. Caretaker's Caretaker's forehead vein looked ready to pop.
"Your 'Griffin HQ in the Sky' scheme has already resulted in enough damage to company property. It ends now. Plus, I'm putting you in an official Doll squad under a leader."
"What?! I told you everything! Why am I still getting a babysitter?!"
"I already explained. A Doll that can't follow orders and causes damage is put under management. Period."
This time, I swear I saw veins popping on her fingers as she rubbed her temples.

Looks like there's no way out of this one. Gotta play along for now... Maybe I can get more info...
"So... who's my leader gonna be?"
She hesitated.
"Her name is... Qiongjiu."
"Who? Never heard of her."
"You've met before. 'Qiongjiu' is her new name. You'll figure it out. Hopefully being with her will teach you some responsibility, MP7."
"Oh yeah, totally. I'll change."
Yeah, right. In your dreams, ice queen.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Frostfall Squad, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: MP7H1

Connecting neural module... Successful
Program... Initiating... Successful

I've started to feel sorry for Leader Qiongjiu.

Even though she could be annoying at times, when it came to dealing with the Caretaker's Caretaker, she's the one who gets yelled at first, not me, teehee!
Like today, there wasn't anything major going on, but the Caretaker's Caretaker summoned us to her office for a "talk."
Thinking about it, Leader is kind of like a half-caretaker. What should we call her... um, the Half-Caretaker who is asked by the Caretaker's Caretaker to take care of the greatest genius of this century and gets scolded on behalf of this genius?
Forget it, that's way too long. Let's keep calling her Leader.

"Frostfall Squad's repair costs have skyrocketed these past two months. Especially during this last mission, you lost an entire SST body frame! All three of you just got a major overhaul last month. Even though Griffin's not hurting for supplies anymore, this is still outrageous!"
Caretaker's Caretaker's finger tapped the report like it was personally offending her. I tuned back in just in time to catch that part... Ooh, nice weather outside. The sun's out!
"I'm sorry. This mishap is entirely my responsibility."
That's right! That's what a Leader should do—take all the blame!
"What was the cause?"
Leader Qiongjiu's brow furrowed. Huh, not so dissimilar to what Caretaker's Caretaker does.
"The mission difficulty was higher than expected. It was a rare, high-priority contract. We all wanted to nail it and prove the client's trust wasn't misplaced. We had two possible approaches..."

Leader started running down the details. The Caretaker's Caretaker stayed quiet, eyes skimming the report. Seriously? Everything the Leader was saying was right there in the report.
I fought back a massive yawn.

"...In the end, I chose the riskier plan. The resulting damages are primarily my fault."
"The report says you let Cheeta operate solo for a while. Why?"
It took me a second to realize that "Cheeta" was me. That awesome new name I gave myself! A stroke of pure genius that really captures my brilliance!
"Hey, what's this got to do with me?!" I blurted, mouth still wide from the interrupted yawn.
"You think it's got nothing to do with you? It's all due to your actions that—" Caretaker's Caretaker shook the report, "—'Squad member Cheeta used underground drilling equipment as cover to detonate explosives from below, causing a widespread surface collapse'—you nearly destroyed everyone's frames! You're the only one who came out with minor scratches!"
She smacked the table. Leader shot me a death glare, so I swallowed my retort.
Tch, didn't I also wipe out most of the baddies and resolve the crisis?
"The fact was... we were surrounded, and the situation was critical. Cheeta said she had a plan, and I thought it was worth a shot... that it might give us the breakthrough we needed."
"My plan did in fact turn things around! You could even call me Frostfall's savior! Nobody else could've pulled that off!" I leaned back, hands behind my head, awaiting the oncoming praise from the two.

What's the matter? Why's it so quiet?
I waited... and waited... Ugh, Caretaker's Caretaker started rubbing her temples again.
"I'm truly sorry..."
Huh? Why's the Leader apologizing again?
"Qiongjiu, as team leader, you need to understand your team members better." The Caretaker's Caretaker massaged her forehead wearily. "Cheeta... her actions can sometimes yield surprising victories because she's talented and learns fast. But on the other hand, she also can't predict the consequences of her schemes. You get that?"
Huh? Was that a compliment?

"I understand completely. I'll be more careful in the future."
The Leader hung her head again. Even I'm starting to feel bad!
"Enough with the boring stuff!" I darted between them, hands on the Caretaker's Caretaker's desk. "When's our next mission? A genius like me can't just keep wasting away in the dorms!"
"Cheeta!"
Huh? Why was the Leader winking at me? Was her visual module glitching?
"Cheeta..."
Why was the Caretaker's Caretaker looking so ghastly?

"Cheeta, if you want to save enough money for a new frame, stop wrecking company property! Like your teammates' frames!"
"Hey... I didn't do it on purpose!"
"And those crazy ideas of yours... making Griffin HQ float and whatnot? Forget all of it!"
Ha?! My brilliant plan only got shut down because of her! Had she not interfered, Griffin would already be back at the top, and Honey Badger would be groveling at my feet!
"I—"
"That's enough, Cheeta!"
Leader grabbed my wrist and yanked me behind her.
"Helian, I'll keep a closer eye on Cheeta's behavior."
Caretaker's Caretaker let out a drawn-out sigh.
"She needs to figure it out herself..."
"I... I'll do my best to guide her. Cheeta, no more pranks on Lind this time while we're in the dorms."
"Yeah, yeah, I got that. No need to worry about it." I waved dismissively and headed for the door. "I'll go prepare our next—uh, maintenance check."

As if I'm just gonna sit around and behave!
What should I do this time... Maybe have Lind to—nah, Leader said no. How about the Caretaker's Caretaker—eh, better not push it... Oh, right! I'll rope Leader Qiongjiu into this! Haha, that'll be fun!
Yep, I really am a genius!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Stargazing Location

Summary

This story is linked to Dusty Memories#Novel Orbit and Griffin Memories/Operation Starchaser.

While delivering a rescue target, Squad Grizzly receives the notice about Griffin's restructuring. The team wants to remain together and they decide to seek reassignment in the Green Zone. As the squad is defending against an attack on their target, ^AR AK-AlfaAK-AlfaAK-Alfa sees a civilian Doll get destroyed and realizes that her squad would lose their Fire Control Core and their ability to defend themselves if they leave for the Green Zone. During Squad Grizzly's last get-together before their transfer, Alfa decides to apply to remain at Griffin so she can protect her friends, but has to push them away until the day of their departure. While she thinks she made the right decision, she's still overwhelmed by sadness.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company, Border Surveillance Corps
Frame Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: Model Alpha
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

It is now 10:26 p.m... The team has just finished the most crucial part of the mission—rescuing the client's target from the enemy and reaching the designated spot to wait for the pick-up crew.
The designated spot is a bar, half-hidden underground in the Green Zone. The path to the entrance is winding and tricky. Without the map provided by the client, this place would be as hard to find as a lone star in the universe.
Inside the bar, there's a red-haired hostess who smells like peach perfume, as if she stepped out of an old sci-fi movie. Her eyes are full of wrinkles, and she's quite old. We had to wait for a bit before finally meeting her.

After arriving here by helicopter, we protected Willers Finn, who had just escaped from danger and was still in shock. We confirmed the meeting location based on the 3D map sent by the client—the mist after the rain had not yet cleared, lightly veiling the entrance to the underground bar.
The wooden sign was old and gray, and the water stains hadn't dried yet.
Grizzly double-checked the address but still had doubts. The bar's entrance faced a private mansion. What used to be the mansion's back door was now sealed with cement, and you could only vaguely tell there used to be a door there. The layout was really strange, and the team couldn't help but discuss it.

I noticed that if I walked a dozen steps along the path, I could climb up the stairs to the public balcony of an abandoned building. Looking west from there, it was the best place to stargaze at night. Before I could think further, a voice came from the door of the bar.
"Who are you?"
The voice of a young girl, sounding no older than 20.
"I'll have a cold fragrant cigar," Grizzly said.
Cold fragrant cigar, the code given by the client. Finn's gray trench coat smelled of tobacco. It was referring to him.
"Please wait."
The girl peeked at us through the narrow gap in the door, waited for a moment, and then slowly opened the iron door.

"I'm Claire. Sorry, we have to most accountable for our customers. Mr. Greenwood has reserved a location for you. Please, follow me."
The girl had unforgettable red hair, with a seashell hair ornament on her bun. Various marine creatures were perched on the narrow shells, and a circle of gold lines was printed on the edge. She was completely different from the young girls I had seen—she was a Doll, had her own name, and was quite favored by her owner.
We followed her into the bar, which wasn't very big and was filled with a faint smell of hops, slightly astringent, like malt liquor that wasn't fully foamed. I looked around, and there wasn't a single customer—only some dim lights.

"Please wait a moment, the hostess will be here soon."
As soon as she finished speaking, a small door next to her opened, and a red-haired woman with the same exquisite seashell hair ornament walked out.
"Claire, get some drinks for our guests. Welcome. Greenwood has told me about you, and I've prepared a suitable place for you to rest."
The woman flashed a slightly tired smile and led us to a small room, saying as she walked, "Mr. Greenwood told me that the support team he sent will probably—" She glanced at her watch, "Hmm, arrive in about an hour."

The room was warm, and the dry wood hadn't been touched by the rain. The woman didn't say much, and after exchanging a few polite words with Grizzly, she left. Finn sat down awkwardly, straightening his wrinkled gray pinstripe shirt, while M590 and Grizzly sat across from him, fully relaxed.
There were a few cans of beer on the reddish-brown coffee table. PzB39 grabbed one, popped the tab, and handed it to me.
"...Thanks, PzB."
I like beer. That's thanks to Griffin mechanic, who maintains my gastral module.

I took the beer and my gaze drifted outside.
The mist had cleared, and the rain-washed night sky was as clean as black velvet, with stars like scattered diamonds shining in a specific pattern.
The window was half-open, and my gaze passed through the wooden frame, settling on the soft night sky.

"Leader, I'm stepping out for a bit. I'll be back in 15 minutes."
Grizzly nodded. I checked my camera and headed for the door. M82 followed me.
"M82, why are you suddenly..."
"I want to see the stars too! Tonight's perfect for stargazing!"
"But you didn't bring your camera."
"It's beautiful, even if you just look at it with your own eyes! And I want to see it with you."
"...Okay."
I led her around the haphazardly placed tables and chairs, heading to the bar's entrance. We stepped outside. Not far from there, there was an empty house... Yeah, right there.
M82 and I walked towards the house together.
"Alfa, every time we go on a mission, you always find the best spots for stargazing. How do you do it?"
I felt a bit shy and whispered, "If you want to see the stars, you obviously have to seek the best spot."

We stood on the balcony with the refreshing night breeze on our backs. The starry sky seen through the window was already stunning, but now, standing up high, it looked even more breathtaking.
I instinctively raised my camera, adjusted the aperture and focus, and snapped picture after picture.
"Alfa, you're the only one who takes pictures of stars while on a mission. After we rescued Finn earlier, everyone's batteries were almost dead. I thought you'd be resting like Grizzly and the others."
I put down the camera and gazed up at the starry sky.

"A night sky like this is so rare, I have to capture the moment. But what's even rarer is the transit of Mercury happening this year. I've even set a digital reminder for it. According to the forecast from the Cerro Tololo Observatory..."
Before I could finish, M82 interrupted me with a laugh.
"Here we go again! I've heard you talk about this Mercury transit so many times, my ears are getting calluses! Wait, do Dolls get calluses? Maybe? Maybe not..."
"This kind of a celestial event is a once-in-a-century thing. If we're lucky, we might even see an Einstein ring, with a bright halo surrounding a lone star. Wouldn’t that be magnificent and beautiful?"
"Magnificent and beautiful? Hmm, didn't 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' mention something like that..."
M82 laughed and started talking about a sci-fi novel we both love. I couldn't help but smile. Her voice and the way she talked made me feel at peace.

But that peace was soon broken. It was broken by the notice sent to all Dolls about the disbanding and reorganization of Griffin.
I had sighed in sadness but wasn't too surprised. When Griffin was in turmoil and the Commander left, I had a feeling this moment would come. No matter how reluctant we are, there will always be a time to part... I just didn't expect it to come so suddenly.
"Alfa, how can you be so calm! Griffin is going to disband and reorganize!"
"Yeah... but it can't be helped. Since it can't be helped, what's the point of getting excited or anxious?"
"You... You're such a blockhead! We have no way of controlling it, but we should at least think about our future! Wait, Leader sent a message. She wants us to go back quickly—must be something to do with this." M82 tugged at my sleeve.
I sighed, "Give me a minute, there's another to take."
"Hurry up!"

Following M82's urging, we went back to that cramped room. M82 and I sat across from Grizzly and Finn, while M590 and PzB39 sat next to Finn.
The gray-haired young man was surrounded by a bunch of Dolls, looking extremely uncomfortable.
"What are you going to do?"
"Ensure your safety. Also, we're going to have a quick meeting—don't worry, we have our own communication channels, so even though we're in the same room, we won't disturb you," Grizzly said. Then, all of us received a message on Level II—
"Griffin is about to disband and reorganize, and everyone needs to think about their future. Dolls can apply to stay in Griffin, but there is a very limited number of positions. Alternatively, they can accept resettlement to work in the Green Zones, where there are more jobs available. Personally, I think Squad Grizzly should stick together no matter where we end up. What do you all think?"
M590's message popped up quickly.
M590: I fully support the Leader's decision. As for where to go—well, although I’d hate to leave Griffin, it would probably be tough for all of us to stay there, right? So why not go along with resettlement and find a job in a Green Zone? Depending on the city's security level we might have to remove our fire-control cores, but in the Green Zones, we won't have to engage in combat, so it doesn't really matter if we don't have them.
M82: I agree. I heard some Green Zones have libraries. I wonder if Dolls can work as librarians.
PzB39: I want to keep working on my motorcycle. There should be auto repair shops in the Green Zones, right?
Grizzly: So, everyone wants to go to the Green Zone?
M590: Anywhere is fine, as long as we're together.
PzB39: Exactly. Once my motorcycle is ready, I'll take everyone for a ride. I'm just not sure if we can all get assigned to the same company... But if we talk to Helian in advance, maybe we'd have a chance?"
...
My teammates' voices echoed through Level II. Soon, the topic shifted the Commander who had left a long time ago.
Grizzly: How do you think the Commander felt when leaving Griffin? The contamination zone is so dangerous, and the Commander left alone, unlike us who still have one another to rely on...
M590: The Commander has always been decisive. There must have been a reason for them choosing to leave.
M82: Yeah... I hope the Commander can achieve everything they want. Even if they're no longer with Griffin, the Commander is still the Commander.
PzB39: Cheer up, the Commander is resourceful. Unlike us Dolls who worry about battles in Griffin and survival after leaving, maybe the Commander is doing better than us now!
M590: Don't be ridiculous. If it weren't for this disbandment and reorganization, which Doll in her right mind would want to leave Griffin? But... the positions in Griffin and the Green Zone are limited, so we should apply early.
Grizzly: Yeah, if we do well in the Green Zone, maybe we can save up some money and go find the Commander!
...

Realizing that I had been keeping silent, Grizzly asked me directly.
Grizzly: What about you, Alfa? Do you want to join us?
M82: Squad Grizzly can't be split up!
M590: Yeah, Alfa!
PzB39: How about I put a really tall rack on the motorcycle just for you to watch the stars, Alfa?
...
I sighed softly and gave my answer.
AK-Alfa: As long as I can see the stars and catch this year's transit of Mercury, I can go anywhere.
M82: What? That's such a cold response!
PzB39: Yeah, Alfa, sometimes you need to be more open. Wouldn't it be nice for all of us to go for a ride together?
...
My teammates whined and pouted, making me feel a bit helpless.
AK-Alfa: As long as we go to the Green Zone, I'll be with everyone, right? No need to spell it out.
M82: Of course you need to spell it out! How else will everyone know what you're really thinking?

AK-Alfa: ...
...
The conversation didn't last long before we heard gunshots outside.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company, Border Surveillance Corps
Frame Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: Model Alpha
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day ■■
Status: In Progress

As soon as the gunshots rang out, the red-haired woman quickly pushed open the door and yelled that we were under attack. Finn's face suddenly went pale, and he told us that his brother might have bribed our contact to silence him. Grizzly immediately rallied the squad, and everyone prepared for battle.
Seeing everyone with their guns at the ready, I couldn't help but think that if we all became ordinary Dolls in the future, we would all have our fire-control cores removed, and this could very well be our very last battle together.
But for me, it didn't matter where I went, as long as I could see the stars. That's truly how I felt.
After becoming ordinary Dolls with no fire-control cores, the city we served would probably offer us protection. After all, many Dolls in the local workforce possessed no combat capabilities to begin with.

But when the enemy forces flooded into the bar and started shooting indiscriminately, aiming to take out Finn as quickly as possible, I changed my mind.

"Help, Claire, help me!" the red-haired woman screamed at the top of her lungs. M82 took down two enemies closing in on her, but it still couldn't slow the enemy's advance. The next moment, Claire burst out with a submachine gun.
But before Claire could even fire, a barrage of bullets hit her squarely in the head. Her delicate shell hairpin was shattered in the chaos.
"Claire!" the red-haired woman screamed even louder.
Claire fell to the ground, unable to move. There were several round black bullet holes on her forehead, leaving some of her circuits exposed and sparking. With no consciousness behind her eyes, they looked blank and powerless. No matter how desperately the red-haired woman called out, Claire wouldn't respond. The submachine gun lay next to her, having not fired a single bullet.
"..."
The Doll without a fire-control core was damaged beyond repair before she could even fire.
If Squad Grizzly accepted reassignment and went to the Green Zone as ordinary Dolls, would we also end up like this?
...

"Alfa, we're still in combat! What are you spacing out for?!"
M82's stern voice snapped me back to the battlefield.
"Don't worry, everyone. I just called for support. Griffin reinforcements will be here in ten minutes."
"Mr. Finn, don't be so scared. Even if your contact has turned on us, Squad Grizzly will escort you to safety. Just remember to leave us a good review!"
...
My teammates were still relaxed and unperturbed. No one seemed bothered by what just happened, except for me.

Ten minutes later, Griffin's elite team arrived as promised. The leader, WA2000, swiftly and decisively wiped out all the enemies with overwhelming firepower. PzB39 couldn't help but exclaim, "Such strength, are you kidding me? They took down those tough enemies in just a few minutes."
"If they had arrived a few minutes earlier, the Doll named Claire wouldn't have met her end like that," I muttered.
"There's nothing we could do about it. Who knew the contact would sell us out? Regular Dolls can take out a thug or two at best. She just got unlucky in this situation."
I would admit that such an attack was statistically unlikely to happen, but it did happen. Didn't this prove that the Green Zone wasn't as safe as Grizzly and her team thought?

In the end, Grizzly passed the case over to the support team and asked them to take Finn to a safe location. She would contact the client later and discuss their next steps. While Grizzly was briefing the support team, I quietly walked up to the red-haired woman. Her face was stained with tears.
"What are you going to do with her?"
I pointed down at Claire.
"I've uploaded her neural data to the server in advance, and Greenwood will pay for a new frame."
"Do all shop owners back up their Dolls' neural clouds like you?"
"Not really... After all, renting a server is not exactly cheap, but Claire is very important to me..."
I stumbled backward.
"In other words, to other shop owners, Dolls are likely just tools and consumables..."
The woman said nothing to that and just looked sadly at the Doll's broken body. She cherished this Doll so much and even gave her a name, but when faced with danger, she still commanded the Doll to protect her, despite the Doll's lack of combat capability.
If Grizzly and the others were to encounter such a situation in the future...

"Alfa, get ready. We should head back. Hey, how come you're falling behind again?!"
"On it."
After responding to Grizzly, I silently left the red-haired woman's side.
The Doll's empty eyes kept staring at me, as if in silent warning.
The Green Zone was really not as safe as Grizzly and the others imagined. Not every human who hired Dolls would treat us as well as the Commander.

Soon, we all boarded the helicopter and prepared to return to Griffin.
As we left, the thin veil of mist covering the city had faded, and the cityscape gradually came into full view. The propellers started up, and all the details of the city started blending into small patches of color, until everything just became a blur.
Squad Grizzly could find themselves living in a city such as this.
Do they truly understand what the future had in store for them? If we stayed with Griffin, we would obviously have to be constantly prepared for battle, but would it be any better to be without a fire-control core and thus utterly defenseless when in danger? That said, the cities in the Green Zone did have their own charms—
Libraries with endless collections of books, where you could find the rarest sci-fi novels; auto repair shops where you could learn any modification technique...
Or maybe... they just don't want to be separated.
The Dolls in Squad Grizzly have always known their own minds.

Even I—
I love the green fields in the Green Zone and the sky above them after the rain. The sky is as clean and clear as an unpolluted deep spring, where all kinds of rare astronomical phenomena can appear, and one can take photos of the most magnificent starry sky.
Countless thoughts intertwined in my mind. Eventually, I lightly tapped PzB39, who was sitting next to me and having a lively conversation with M590, on the shoulder.

"What's wrong, Alfa?"
"PzB, aren't you worried at all?"
"Worried about what?"
"...Nothing."
"Don't always leave your sentences half-finished. This may be our squad's final mission, but we will meet again. All that's left to do is figuring out how to write our transfer request forms. What else is there to worry about?"
"Civilian Dolls in the Green Zone need to have their fire-control cores removed."
"Yeah, that's the process."
"..."
"What's wrong? Just tell me."
"Nothing. But do you actually want to go to the Green Zone? Do you insist on going?"
"To answer your question, Alfa... Well, I really want to learn how to modify motorcycles. There are so many cities in the Green Zone, there's bound to be an opportunity, right? Still, what I really want is to be with Grizz and you lot. You know, we're different from humans. Humans have their parents and relatives because of blood ties, but we can only make friends if we take the initiative. You and Grizz are the most important people to me, so I don't mind going anywhere as long as I can stay with you guys."
"I see."
"But it'd be the best if I can stay with you AND learn how to modify motorcycles!"
"So you still want to go to the Green Zone."
"I get the best of both worlds, so why not?"
...

I didn't need to ask anyone else; I could already tell what their answers would be.
It's true, if one could have the best of both worlds, why would they choose otherwise?
Nobody seemed to be aware of the dangers that came with this choice. For them, encountering danger in the Green Zone was a statistical improbability. Giving up a bright future for such an unlikely scenario just wasn't worth it.
But if this unlikely scenario happened even once, they'd be gone. For good.
Their new owners would not be as generous as Griffin. There's no guarantee that they would give their Dolls neural backups or provide new frames for them like the red-haired woman did. It all depends heavily on the owners' attitude and financial situation. It's like trying to predict the aurora; before night falls, no one can know for sure if the aurora will actually appear.
This means that I might lose them.
The majestic transit of Mercury only happens once in many years, but if you wait patiently, it will eventually appear. Losing them, however, was forever. Once it happens, there's no going back.
Even though my frame's temperature regulation was normal, I felt cold. I listened with a blank face as they talked about the wonderful lives they would lead after reassignment, unable to make a sound as if my vocal module was broken.

I don't want to ruin everyone's pursuit of a better future, but I also don't want any harm to come to them.
There has to be a way that would actually let us have the best of both worlds.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company, Border Surveillance Corps
Frame Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: Model Alpha
Mission ID: N/A
Time: ■/■/2065
Status: N/A

A few hours later, the helicopter flew us back to Griffin.
Grizzly gave a quick rundown of the situation, and our last mission as Squad Grizzly was over. After the Commander left, even if we stayed at Griffin, things had changed...
Grizzly suggested we all get together one last time before disbanding to mark the end of our time at Griffin and get ready for a new beginning.
There was no reason to say no, so I agreed.

The meetup spot was in a small grove a short distance away from Griffin headquarters.
On the agreed day, I brought the projector and speakers as Grizzly had asked and arrived right on time. PzB39 was carrying a bunch of action movie DVDs, carefully guarding them like a penguin guarding an egg. M590 was helping with PzB39's motorcycle, which had new graffiti on it—a cute plush brown bear. It was obvious who had done it. Grizz brought a few bottles of beer, and I knew they were for me. M82 had prepared a whole box of fireworks. The box was so tall it completely hid her face, but I could still tell she was in a good mood from her cheerful steps.
All of Griffin was wrapped in the sadness of farewells, but my teammates didn't seem to feel that way. Maybe it was because we had all planned to go to the Green Zone together. What they didn't know was that I hadn't submitted my application yet. I was still hesitating.

I put the projector down and set it up absentmindedly. The beam of the projector hit a dense patch of leaves, like a natural screen. PzB39 put the disc in place. After a small hiss, a certain over the top theme song blasted from the speakers.
M82 opened a bottle of beer for me. This time, my olfactory module picked up the fresh smell of malt and hops. I closed my eyes and drank the whole bottle of beer.
Watching everyone bustling around, I tried to voice my concerns.
"So... why are we all going to the Green Zone? There's nothing wrong with staying in Griffin, right?"
"There's nothing wrong with that, but there are too few spots to stay in Griffin, and we can do more in the Green Zone!"
"Yeah, my motorcycle needs more modifications. High-horsepower acceleration is essential for it. If I stay in Griffin, how will I have time to modify it?"
"Griffin's database doesn't have as many sci-fi novels as the city library..."
My teammates answered my questions rather flippantly.

"But the Green Zone isn't always safe. Just like last time, we almost got hurt during the mission. That Doll named Claire also—"
"Events like that are so rare, they barely happen once a year!"
"Yeah, Alfa, what's up with you today? You're overthinking things. This isn't like you."
"Exactly! Normally, you'd already be dragging PzB to find a good spot to watch the stars. You did say you wanted to see that thing this year, something Mercury...? What was it again...?"
"The transit of Mercury."
I couldn't help but add.
"Yes! That. You're really acting strange today, Alfa. Are you hiding something from us?"
Looking at my teammates' faces of genuine concern, I opened my mouth, but I found myself unable to voice my misgivings.
I need more time to figure this out.
What I know for sure is that my teammates are all excited about their future in the Green Zone, but...
Claire's empty eyes still linger in my mind.
How can I convince them to stay, and is it really right to ask them to? Staying at Griffin means continuing to fight, and those beautiful dreams about the future will vanish.
This isn't the outcome I desire.

"Alfa, what's up with you? You keep making different faces. It's as if you've used up a year's worth of expressions tonight."
"Oh, I'm fine. I got really excited when you mentioned the transit of Mercury. Yeah, that's it."
"Just because of that? Well, it's hard to understand, but I'm really into modifying motorcycles myself, so I can't really judge you... Once we get to the Green Zone, we'll have plenty of time to mess around with our own hobbies."
...
My teammates' kind attempts to smooth things over made me feel even guiltier, and before I knew it, I'd downed another bottle of beer.
If I stay behind and use Griffin's power to help everyone when needed, and let Grizzly and the others go to the Green Zone, would that be the best solution?
My hand holding the beer bottle twitched when this idea emerged. It's definitely doable. As long as the reorganized Griffin can ensure the supply of provisions, provide the necessary frame maintenance, and also give me some free time, this plan can solve all problems in one go.
But another issue immediately came to mind—
If I stay at Griffin alone, it means I'll be breaking my previous promise. I had promised to go to the Green Zone with the rest of the team...

Right now, I really wish that person were still at Griffin, so I could knock on their door for answers.
But that's not possible... and if the Commander were still in Griffin, the choice we would have made was obvious.

Just as I was feeling conflicted, M82 lit the fireworks. A golden lion with bared fangs and claws roared fiercely in the sky, a heavy motorcycle leapt across a gap and soared through the air, and the bright arm of a galaxy sprang out of a thick open book. Fireworks ignited one by one, and finally Squad Grizzly's logo was fixed in the night sky before it slowly faded and went out softly in the night breeze.
The team logo was pretty simple. We drew it together when the team was formed. Everyone added a stroke, and the final product looked kind of odd. The so-called majestic brown bear actually looked more like a chubby big cat.
At first, my teammates cheered, then they gradually fell silent. In the end, we all held hands and watched the custom fireworks show together.
"A fine commemoration, is it not?"
M82 asked softly.
I quickly nodded.

Perhaps it was because we missed the days at Griffin, or perhaps it was the mesmerizing patterns. After the fireworks ended, no one left right away. We kept changing out the discs on the projector, chatting about the past and the future.
I sat on a hill not too far from them—they were already used to me keeping my distance.
The soft cloth beneath me was dry and clean. I lay down gently and gazed up at the night sky. The stars were vast and countless as they shone brightly. The cool night breeze gradually blew away the noise from my teammates.
Even though it was the perfect place to think in peace and quiet, I found myself unable to calm down.

Stay at Griffin or accept reassignment?
Staying at Griffin means I can keep protecting everyone.
Accepting reassignment means I can keep my original promise. Like Grizzly said in the beginning, as long as we're all together, Squad Grizzly hasn't really disbanded.

My neural cloud has already arrived at the most reasonable conclusion, but I just can't seem to take that step, and I can't honestly share my worries with Grizzly and the others. If they knew I chose to stay, they'd definitely stick with me, but I can't be the one to crush those dreams.
...
Looking at the vast starry sky, I gently asked the stars, "Can you tell me what I should do...?"
With the Commander not here, I have only them to ask.
My question went unanswered. Only the night wind blew gently, lifting my long hair.
"I guess I have a lot of time tonight to think about this..."
I turned over and hugged my knees to my chest.

Finally, as the sky gradually brightened, I found my own answer.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company, Border Surveillance Corps
Frame Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: Model Alpha
Mission ID: N/A
Time: ■/■/2065
Status: N/A

I submitted the application.
It would take some time for the final arrangements of Griffin Dolls to be announced.
Just before leaving, I spent time with Grizzly and the others as usual, but unlike them, I wasn't filled with hope for the future, nor did I pack my luggage, putting my most important belongings into the suitcase one by one. I've been waiting, like a red giant star gradually dying. I don't know if I'll become a bright nebula or a black hole in the future.
With 24 hours left before the arrangements were announced, I hid in my dorm room. I wanted to stay in my own little world until everyone left.

I was too naive.
The next morning, Grizzly and the others came into my little space.
"Open up, Alfa! We need to talk to you!"
"Alfa, didn't we agree to get reassigned together?"
"Yeah, Alfa, are you having some kind of problem? We can solve it together!"
They kept knocking on the door, their voices urgent and frantic. I looked at my teammates through the narrow gap of the dorm door, just like the red-haired Doll we encountered in Griffin's last mission for us—their faces were confused, puzzled, and mostly anxious.
They probably never expected me to make such a decision.
The knocking went on for five minutes. I stayed completely silent, pretending I wasn't in the room.
"Grizzly, maybe Alfa isn't here."
"Hmm... let's check somewhere else. It's so reckless of Alfa to not discuss something this big with us."
"Maybe Alfa has her reasons?"
My teammates talked for a bit outside the door. After making sure I wasn't in the dorm, they finally left. I slid down onto the rug against the door with a huge sense of relief and stared blankly at the logo of "Outer Polaris" on the rug.
"I'm sorry, I lied to you guys..."

Before long, the inbox on my terminal started blowing up with messages from teammates, mostly worried and asking questions. I looked at them for a good while, then I finally blocked all my teammates to prevent myself from losing my resolve.
This way, everyone could move on and start afresh in the Green Zone.
Just in case my teammates decided to double back to look for me in the dorm again, I fully charged myself and hiked up a nearby hill alone. I wanted to spend some time on my own here.
I stayed quietly during the day, and at night, I watched the stars in the night sky.
But much to my surprise, they actually came looking for me here!
While I was hugging my knees and stargazing, the clouds moved away, and the moonlight shone upon my teammates in the distance. Under the moonlight, they looked like tiny dots, walking towards where I was.
To avoid being discovered, I quickly found a large rock nearby and hid behind it.
My teammates' footsteps were getting closer, and I could hear their voices.
"Would she really be here, PzB?"
"She's not in the dorm. Based on her habits, this is the only place left. Anyway, let's look around."
"Why does she keep hiding from us? Are we that scary?"
"I always feel like Alfa has something on her mind that she can't tell us."
"Why can't she? What's so hard to say to us?"
"I don't know..."
Their voices were almost within arm's reach as they approached the rock where I was hiding. I tried my best not to make a sound.
"She's not here."
"She's not here either."
"Same here."
...
I heard a heavy sigh.

"In that case, we'll just have to look elsewhere," Grizzly said. Just from her tone, I could sense her disappointment.
"Alfa, what are you really thinking?"
As my teammates slowly dispersed, I caught that final question.
I-I just wanted a win-win solution; I just wanted to protect everyone...
But I couldn't say this out loud.

There was six hours left, and to prevent them from returning, I left the hill.
But where could I go...? Perhaps I shouldn't go to places that I visit frequently. Based on this thought, I chose an abandoned warehouse in Griffin as my last hideout.
I silently watched the dust in the air rise and fall, calculating the moment they left. I thought; they won't be able to find me here.
I cut my neural cloud connection, mitigated my heat signature, and waited for that moment to arrive.
But they still found me. The first one to show up was M82.

I was staring at a dark spot on the ceiling that was corroded by rust and mold. It looked a lot like the Orion Nebula.
A familiar voice suddenly broke the silence.
"Alfa, there you are! I finally found you! Why are you hiding here?"
I jumped up from the ground, but my frame, which had suddenly ramped up its processing speed, couldn't adjust in time. I felt dizzy and stumbled back.
"I-I just needed to think through some things..."
"Think through some things?"
M82 gave me an incredulous look, clearly not buying my lie.
"Alfa, you know, you're really bad at lying. I've already told Grizz and the others, they'll be here soon."
"What?! I-I'm outta here." Hearing they were coming, I immediately motioned to leave, but M82 quickly blocked my way.
"You're not getting away this time. We need to clear some things up." She spread her arms like a hawk, blocking the door and firmly cutting off my escape until the storage door gave rise to the sound of knocks.
M82 watched me closely and opened the door. Outside were Grizzly, PzB39, and M590.
I had finally been caught.

"Alfa, tell us, why do you want to stay at Griffin?" Grizzly had asked this question many times. I had heard it many times too, and now it's finally time for me to answer.
"If you have any concerns, you have to let us know."
"Squad Grizzly is a unit. As long as we're together, we haven’t disbanded."
"Alfa, all the promises we made before still stand. Whether you want to go to the best stargazing spot in the Green Zone or drink the best beer in the Green Zone, we’re still down for it."
...
My teammates kept asking, waiting for my explanation and my decision.
As I looked at them, the image of Claire's lifeless and disfigured face appeared before my eyes again, overlapping with their faces... No, I don't want this! I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth: "What you're offering, Griffin can also give me, and under better conditions to boot!"

Surprise, sadness, disbelief... I saw all kinds of expressions on their faces.
Yes, abandon me. Let go of this asteroid and let it gradually drift to the other end of the orbit... I'll navigate the vast universe on my own, and when the time is right, I'll fly back to see you again...

"Alfa, you're not serious, are you?"
"Of course I'm serious, PzB. I've told you before, as long as I can see the stars, it doesn't matter where I go. Even if Griffin's resources are scarce, it's still much more abundant than places like an auto repair shop or a library."
"Is this... the reason you want to stay?"
Grizzly asked again.
"Yes, staying at Griffin allows me to observe the stars more easily. That's the reason I want to stay."
My response left them speechless, and PzB's eyes turned red with tears. I felt my eyes water too, but before I could say "I changed my mind," I shoved them roughly out the door.
"Alfa!"
"Go away and leave me alone."
I slammed the door shut in their faces.

I waited a while, but didn't hear their footsteps leaving outside the door.
They... must be really disappointed in me.
I sat in the abandoned warehouse and watched the morning sunlight gradually seep through the broken cracks without saying a word for a long time.
Within a week after the announcement, they would have to go to the Green Zone.

I made this decision myself.
I have no regrets.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company, Border Surveillance Corps
Frame Model: SST-05
Imprint Model: Model Alpha
Mission ID: N/A
Time: ■/■/2065
Status: N/A

A week quickly flew by.
I completely cut all contact with Grizzly and the others, and they responded with silence in kind. I no longer avoided them. When we occasionally passed by one other, we pretended not to know each other. In the situations where we had to interact, we treated one another with politeness and courtesy, an unspoken understanding between us.

Finally, the bus carrying the Dolls to the Green Zone stopped steadily in front of Griffin's main entrance. The Dolls were lined up with colorful suitcases of various sizes. The bright red bus was very noticeable in the sunlight.
Indeed, it was very noticeable... I think I'll remember this scene till the day I stop functioning.
Here I was, hiding in a spot where I could see the bus from a distance, away from the crowd. I tried to spot Grizzly and the others. As long as they didn't see me, it was fine, I thought.
But Grizzly and the others were not there.

I waited there for a long time until the bus was about to leave. Just then, they showed up, all flustered. There was mud on their shoes, and I knew where they had been—they wanted to talk to me one last time before leaving. Only in that abandoned warehouse was there such wet mud.
But luckily, they didn't miss the bus.

The young attendant looked impatient, urging Grizzly and the others to get on the bus like a worker packing sardines. Grizzly kept looking back, and I instinctively shrunk further back behind the pillar that could hide my figure.
They didn't see me.
After failing to find me, they boarded the bus with their suitcases in disappointment.
The attendant closed the door after confirming that all the Dolls were on board. The driver honked twice, and the bus drove off smoothly. At that moment, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.
Finally, the situation that entangled me so, that led me into hiding during this time has come to an end. I don't have to sneak around like before. Grizzly and the others can go to the Green Zone and do what they want. Plus, by staying at Griffin, I can keep an eye on them and protect them whenever I needed to.
I achieved what I intended to achieve, so why do I still feel so sad?
I turned around stiffly. It must be because of my low battery that I'm feeling so down right now.
Just as I was about to head back to the dorm, the clouds in the sky cleared up, and the daylight became even brighter, almost scorching on my skin. Why would this be bothering me? Could it be—
The terminal I carried with me suddenly started vibrating, like a comet streaking across the starry sky in my mind. I froze in place. How could this be happening?! At this moment—when I watched all my companions leave with my own eyes, the transit of Mercury had begun...
It was like the darkest joke straight out of a sci-fi novel...
But there was no way I was going to miss this!
I've always wanted to see this celestial event, and missing it was not an option!

I dragged my heavy feet, dashed to the dorm, burst through the door, dove into my room, and rushed to my telescope by the window.
I quickly adjusted the angle and aimed it at the sun—

This gigantic, orange-red star... Most of the planets in the solar system seemed all too insignificant compared to it. The very center of the solar system, and one of the foundations of human existence. If it changed, ever so slightly, the entirety of the solar system would be affected.
Just then, I spotted a round black dot moving across this massive star. It was moving so slowly that you could hardly notice any displacement within that period of time.
Compared to the sun, it was so tiny and so lonely. If you didn't look closely, you wouldn't even realize it was covering a corner of the sun...
Yes, this round black dot was Mercury.
Everything I saw at that moment was the transit of Mercury, something I had always longed to see.

I stared at the sky, my hands trembling uncontrollably, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry.
This wasn't happiness, it was...
Sadness...
Why do I feel so sad?
...Alfa, you chose to stay in Griffin because you thought you could protect everyone and observe the universe. Now, the celestial event you've been waiting for is here, so why aren't you happy?

Why aren't I happy?
I forced myself to take pictures of this amazing sight.
"At very least... I should have a memento."
Like chanting a spell, I quickly adjusted the camera I had prepared, but no matter how I set the parameters, the photos turned out terrible—they were either underexposed or out of focus. I was too panicked, my mind went blank, and my hands were shaking uncontrollably, causing these constant errors.

Even so, I forced myself to take photo after photo until the camera's memory card was completely full. I collapsed to the ground, exhausted.
"How could this happen...? I need more memory space, that's it..."
Struggling to get up, I tried to switch to a larger memory card, but I just couldn't do it. My hands were shaking too much to handle the delicate machine...

...Did I actually make a mistake?
Was it wrong for me to want to protect everyone?
But... does that justify how I deceived them, hurt them with harsh words, and broke my promises?
There's a photo on the wall of a meteor shower, streaking past the sky above my teammates' fluffy hair. I took that photo of them a long time ago.
If I stay here, their safety is assured. If we can't even ensure our existence, how could we talk about living together or living a good life? This thought suddenly came to me.

Looking at the photo, I gritted my teeth.
I did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong.
I did say some hurtful things, but it was all for their safety.
If it was the Commander, they would understand me.
They can go to the Green Zone and live the life they want, and with my support, they can stay safe. So, everything I did was right.
I won't let them become Dolls with bullet holes in their foreheads, like the one at that inn.

Misunderstandings and sadness are just side effects of making the right choice. As long as I can protect my teammates, I can endure everything I'm going through now.
I...
I have no regrets.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Hero's Road

Summary

This story is related to Dusty Journal#Elden Succor and Classified Briefings#The Sky Within the Squares.

When Griffin & Kryuger announces its restructuring, ^HG Nagant RevolverNagant RevolverNagant Revolver is mentoring ^HG USP CompactUSP CompactUSP Compact, ^HG WKpWKpWKp and ^HG Bren TenBren TenBren Ten on a mission, but they are overwhelmed by the enemy. ^HG StechkinStechkinStechkin arrives to provide reinforcements and insists that they must abandon the mission and go back to the base, but Nagant wants to complete the mission to give her pupils some experience before they have to leave Griffin. Stechkin goes with her plan but also points out that Nagant will also have to make a difficult decision as a Doll who always lived for the battlefield.

Back at Griffin, Nagant immediately registers for reassignment to make room for more modern Dolls at Griffin, but realizes that she can't let go of her battle routine and starts having second thoughts. During the reassignment process, Nagant keeps running into Stechkin, who keeps an eye out for her senior who helped her in the past and helps her settle in her new life. Nagant also secretly asks Kalina (now a member of the URNC's administration) to ensure she's assigned to the same team as Stechkin in Public Security. While helping Stechkin at a part-time job in a movie theater, Nagant is inspired by a superhero movie and decides to become a hero of her city.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Nagant M1895
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day 4
Status: In Progress

"S-Senior, we've been spotted, w-what do we do?"
As a rain of bullets erupted from the second floor of the factory, USP Compact's cautious question came through the communicator, mixing with Bren Ten's frantic shouting.
Seeing many red dots suddenly appear on the radar, I quickly flipped the radar display over and muttered to myself... Out of sight, out of mind...
But... that didn't work at all!
It's like finding one cockroach in the kitchen; but knowing that there are hundreds more under the floor, living their lives, getting married, having kids, and even having four generations under one roof...?
Ugh—I shook my head, trying to shake the mental image of cockroaches out of my neural cloud.
Even as a Doll, I just can't handle creatures like cockroaches.

"We were supposed to wait until I joined up with you before engaging the enemies? Why did you shoot early?"
I tried to maintain my senior demeanor and sternly educate the little ones on the other end of the communicator.
"Sorry, Senior, I heard rumors about your love for fair duels..."
Bren Ten's voice trailed off as I rolled my eyes helplessly. I didn't expect my embarrassing past to be brought up by a junior. Well, I guess I'll have to show her what it really means to be a 'Griffin Veteran'.
"Ahem, times have changed. These days, you can't win by being reckless anymore. You juniors better not underestimate your seniors. I'm keeping up with the times too. Just wait, your rescue is on the way!"

The firefight lasted for 16 minutes. After tossing the last concussion grenade, the large swarm of Sangvis Ferri automatons temporarily stopped running, allowing me to reunite with the three Dolls trapped on the second floor.
The pink-haired, excited Doll in front of me was the one responsible for activating these machines—Bren Ten. The two Dolls standing next to her were the taciturn WKp and the introverted honor student USP Compact.
The first thing I did after joining up with them was, of course, to knock some sense into my clueless junior!
"Oh... Senior, why are you hitting me, the rising star in the world of pistols? Besides... that smack probably hurt you more than it hurt me."
Ow... Right, I should have realized it sooner.
I shook my numb hand, trying to downplay the pain, and adjusted my crooked hat. Yep, now it sits perfectly straight.

This factory is spacious, but its internal layout is really complicated. There are more Sangvis Ferri units than mentioned in the mission briefing. I really want to shout something badass like, 'Follow me and charge!' but being so hopelessly outnumbered, even with a pro like me leading the team, we might not be able to take them all out. Having this clear understanding means I'm also slowly growing more mature, I guess.
Plus, thanks to the inaccurate intel, we totally didn't bring enough ammo!

I anxiously took out my communicator.
1 hour and 30 minutes ago, I sent the first request for help to Griffin, but got no response. 15 minutes ago, I sent a second request for help, and still no response.
Is this communicator really not broken? Just two hours ago, I received an email on it...

I tapped it a few times, but it stayed utterly silent and unresponsive. Realizing my behavior was a bit childish and unbefitting of a veteran, I cleared my throat: "Stay alert and wait for my command."
I got a few half-hearted grunts in response. Then a few seconds later, the communicator buzzed. Did the percussive maintenance actually work?
With trembling hands, I opened the new message. It was just a single word from Wk.: "Received."
The corner of my mouth twitched.
WKp was clearly less than three meters behind me, so why did she have to text? Is this a new personality trait that's been trending among Dolls lately, that so-called "social anxiety"?
Phew... Don't get angry, don't get irritated. Just like Mosin-Nagant said, the young'uns don't like grumbly seniors.
After all, I've mentored 23 rookies already. What kind of brats haven't I seen?
Stay professional, and stay composed!

"Senior, is anyone coming to support us? I heard... Griffin hasn't been doing very great lately." USP Compact drew closer to me with a worried look while still keeping an eye on the surroundings.
"USP Compact, where did you hear such unfounded rumors?"
"Senior, don't you know? The news has been spreading around our social circle. Everyone's saying... Griffin is going to get disbanded." Bren Ten explained animatedly, while WKp quietly observed my reaction from the side.

The words sent a jolt through my neural cloud.
I thought of the email I received two hours ago... I haven't been able to tell the juniors about it yet.
Having been with Griffin for so long, as a veteran, I obviously had a premonition about this, especially since the Commander and Kalina had both left...
If Griffin really gets disbanded... what will happen to us?
My wealth of experience gave me little help in answering that question, just as it had failed me when I desperately needed to put on a brave face and say something to comfort my heartbroken juniors when we found out the Commander was leaving.
"It's probably just some baseless rumors again. I'll find out who's spreading false information and make sure they get a good whipping!"
I peeked at the juniors around me. They seemed temporarily placated, and their grip on their guns was much steadier. Hm, that's better. Young people really shouldn't keep worrying about things that haven't actually happened yet.
...At the very least, it hasn't happened to them yet.

As a veteran of Griffin, it's my duty to trust my superiors and carry out my mission. But right now, I have a more pressing concern.
This time, my three teammates are all juniors with little combat experience. When the Commander left, I made a lofty promise that I would complete my missions and take care of my juniors, and I can't go back on my word!
The only thing I can do—and must do—right now is to assuage my juniors' fears and... lead them in completing this mission!

The staircase that leads to the first floor is completely occupied by Sangvis Ferri units, so we can't go back the way we came. We will have to break through the wall on the west side and force our way out!
We put all our effort into shooting at the weak spot on the wall, but those Dinergates seemed to know exactly what we were aiming at and had barricaded it securely.
After the smoke dissipated, the wall was still standing.
"Arghhh! Damn Dinergates!"
...Forget about taking these guys down, we might not even be able to retreat safely. Is my reputation going to be ruined by these damn Dinergates?
There... there's got to be another way!

"I see that you're still pretty chipper, looks like I got here just in time."
A familiar voice suddenly came through the communicator. Has support finally arrived?!
"Now, get away from that wall, or... I won't be responsible for your frame repair bills."
No time to think!
"Do as she says!"

Boom—
Heavy weapons really pack a punch. We had been firing at the wall all day and barely left a scratch on it, but it got flattened in one shot. The remains of Sangvis Ferri units flew past me and crashed to the ground. Through the smoke and flames, the figure of our savior slowly came into view...
Is that...
"Stechkin?!"
"You still remember me, Senior? That's awesome. Oh, and don't forget to reimburse me for the travel expenses this time."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Nagant M1895
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day 6
Status: In Progress

Looking through the three battle plans in the mailbox, I frowned.
These plans seem somewhat feasible, but the targets aren't clear enough and the flaws are apparent. It's fine if the opponent is just mindless machines, but if it includes more than 30% T-Dolls, the chances of failure will greatly increase.
These little ones outperform me in terms of specs, but they lack experience and on-the-spot judgment in real combat. And during the heat of the battle, it is important to know when to charge in decisively! Young people have no business being so timid!
After carefully annotating each plan, I set the battle arrangements for tomorrow.
Ahhh! It’s just so frustrating! Will they succeed in tomorrow's battle?

"What's up, senior? Are you stressed because you always send me money during the holidays and now, you're too broke to cover my travel expenses?"
Stechkin pushed the door open and walked in, then plopped down next to me. Well, I say "door", but it was more of a windbreaker than anything else.
Seeing the plan in my hand, she got it, "Oh~ You haven't told them yet, have you?"
Honestly, it's all because of her that I'm in such a mess...

With Stechkin's support, we managed to retreat successfully.
Those Sangvis Ferri units went back to stand-by mode after we left the factory's range and didn't chase us.
We took the jeep Stechkin drove and hid in a nearby abandoned apartment to recover our strength.
I thought there would be more reinforcements coming, but I was wrong...
"What? It’s just you?"
"Senior, calm down. It's just me, but we have a jeep full of ammo, right?"
"Even with you, we can't take out that many Sangvis Ferri remnants with just the two of us..."
"Wait, Senior, you don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"Hmm, it seems you really don't know. Griffin got disbanded... To be more precise, it's going to be reorganized. But there's not much difference."
...

"Hey! Senior, Senior? Hello? Earth to Senior Nagant?"
Stechkin waved her hand, interrupting my reminiscence. After not seeing her for a few years, she's changed a lot. Not only has her neural cloud been upgraded, even her skin also seems to have gotten thicker.
I remember this junior. When Stechkin first came to Griffin, we were put into teams together quite often. I heard that she had spent all her savings on changing her frame before coming to Griffin. As a good senior, I would occasionally slip her some extra cash, but for some reason, we never went on missions together again. She really can be such a handful.

"Ew—Senior, don't look at me like that, it's gross..." Stechkin took two steps back, leaning against the old piano in the room, and it made a creaking sound.
"I told you that day, you could sell that truckload of ammo and then, like my team, just ditch the mission and everyone would be happy. But you insisted on finishing it. Man, you’re such a stubborn old goat."
Stechkin hoisted herself up with one hand and absent-mindedly tapped the piano keys with the other. The cold sunlight streamed into the room, and the dust floated up and down with Stechkin's movements on the keys.
It's not that I haven't thought about giving up.
But what about them—these kids who have barely seen the battlefield?

"Stechkin, are you still short on money?"
I cautiously asked Stechkin.
"Why do you ask?"
"I'd like you to hold off on telling them about Griffin's reorganization for now. The ammunition... and you... should also stay here for a bit!"
The doubt in Stechkin's eyes deepened. Her finger halted on a key, producing a long, out-of-tune note.

I had to anxiously add, "If you're short of money, I can give you the reward for this mission when we return!"
"You're still the same as before, Senior... Why?"
Stechkin dropped her usual flippant smirk and asked me with uncharacteristic seriousness.
"These kids, even though they've been at Griffin for a while, they haven't really been on the battlefield, they're not much different from rookies. If we tell them now about Griffin's dissolution... well, reorganization, how are they supposed to take it?"
"They are like babies suddenly placed at a crossroads, with no clue about the future they're about to face. Some might not know what to choose and just go with the flow, while others might quickly decide on a path without understanding what their choice really means," I slowly organized my thoughts. "I think we should at least give them some guidance when making choices, even if we can't give them the full picture."
Stechkin stood in the backlight, and I couldn't see her expression clearly. I had no idea what she was thinking, and she didn't respond.
"Please, I need to help them get familiar with the battlefield, complete the mission successfully, and go back alive."

Stechkin went along with my plan, and the next day, the clean-up mission entered its final stage.
The factory in front of me collapsed with a roar, the red dots on the radar blinked out one by one, and all the signals from the Sangvis Ferri automatons disappeared. I stood in the open space outside and let out a sigh of relief.
Thanks to the efforts and cooperation of the little ones, the mission was completed.
I'm a veteran, I have way more combat experience than they do, but experience is pointless if it isn't passed on.
"Senior, your combat experience is outdated," "Why not learn some advanced combat tactics for a change?"
Alright, alright, I've heard those words countless times.
But old experience isn't useless. It's only been a few days, who knows how much they've learned within such a short time.
As for me... maybe I was just looking for an answer in this battle, an answer to question posed to myself... about how to make my own choices.

On the way back, I told the excitable trio the news about Griffin's reorganization.
Bren Ten burst into tears and crashed into my arms, almost knocking me over, while WKp and USP-C were more composed and accepted reality in silence.
The air was a bit sullen, and I tried telling some old jokes, but... they didn't seem very funny... So, I quietly moved up to the passenger seat, next to Stechkin who was driving.
"It's rare for you to say something so cool, I'm actually really impressed."
"Come on, don't tease your senior now, Stechkin. What about you? What are you going to do next?"
"Don't you worry about me; I can make money anywhere. But you... you've always been active on the battlefield. If you leave, won't it be hard to adjust? You've thought so much about those kids, but what about yourself?"
...
......
The temperature in the contamination zone dropped sharply at night. Although my Doll frame couldn't directly feel the cold, my modules felt a bit sluggish.
It must be because of the low temperature.
What about my choice?

"I'll choose the option that makes the most sense to me."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Nagant M1895
Mission ID: N/A
Time: █/█/206█
Status: N/A

6:00~7:00, I woke up from stand-by mode. After running a self-diagnostic, I put on the uniform. Hmm, I'll wear this hat today.
There's a single bottle of milk on the table. Who left it there? I looked around and saw no one else. Well, I can't waste it, so I'll drink it, I guess. Now I'll have to spend extra on maintenance for my eating module.
7:01~9:00, Regular simulated combat training. The new solo combat techniques I learned still need some practice. There's hardly anyone in the training room today, looks like I've got the place to myself.
9:01~10:00, Gun maintenance. I need to focus when loading ammo. Watching the bullets go into the chamber one by one really calms my mind.
Hmm, what should I do next? I've done all that, and it's still only 10 o'clock...
I slowly finished wiping down my gun, but I didn't want to put it down.
The big screen in the lounge kept playing the promotional video for the Green Zone Housing Plan. They say the future "Green Zone" will be different from the ones we've been to before, but how different can it be? After all, the female host with the professional smile is saying the same old fancy slogans: "A beautiful future is calling you! Join us in building a wonderful Green Zone!"
I've heard it so many times! As a veteran, I know it's all talk.
The video panned over a bunch of Dolls in uniform with empty eyes... Wait, the one wearing a hat looks like me? No way!
I shook my head hard, reactivated my vision module, and the picture went back to normal.
I also refreshed my affiliation data, and sure enough... I no longer belong to Griffin...

After the mission was completed, Stechkin and I took the little ones back to Griffin.
If it were before, I would have run straight to the Commander's office, proudly reported the mission, and told the Commander that I took good care of the rookies and kept my promise.
The Commander would praise me, and Kalina would happily clap her hands and mark the mission as completed.
But now, both the Commander and Kalina are gone, and we were greeted by a grave Helian.
Helian gave us three options: stay at Griffin, accept reassignment, or find our own way.
It's not like I didn't struggle with the decision, but... Griffin has so many high-spec Dolls, and as an old-timer, I should leave some opportunities for the newcomers, right? I've been on the battlefield long enough, and maybe it's a good time to retire on a high note?
I made up my mind quickly and was the first to submit an application for reassignment without any hesitation—
Yeah, right!

I handed in my application in style, so why am I standing at Helian's office door now?
Come to think of it, I can still fight. My training results this morning were perfect. Maybe... maybe there's still a spot open here? I-I can give it another shot!
This isn't about having second thoughts. What if the battlefield still needs me...? Yes! This is my duty as a veteran!
Helian opened the door, and I greeted her awkwardly, but why did she react like that?
She actually praised me for being able to make quick decisions, saying I'm truly an experienced veteran.
Yeah... although that's true, if she keeps praising me, I won't know how to broach the subject...
Ahhh, don't read my application out loud! All that stuff about "making concessions to open up a new world for the younger generation" was just embarrassing nonsense I wrote on a whim!
Saying "I've changed my mind and want to stay" is impossible!
It was so embarrassing, I just wanted to run away... My mind was completely blank, I was staring at the office door, not wanting to stay another second, and in the end, I didn't say a word and ran away in a panic...
First attempt, failed.

Two days later.
6:00~7:00, I woke up from stand-by mode.
7:01~9:00, Conducted regular simulated combat training.
9:01~10:00, Gun maintenance.
10:01~11:00, Stared blankly at the promotional video looping on the screen.
It's been 79 hours and 28 minutes since I submitted the application. The habits I've developed over the years are like programs written into my neural cloud, impossible to change.
I still wake up early, do some training and mechanical maintenance, and then I don't know what to do.
...Is this what they call the after-effects of veterancy?

Although "staying at Griffin" is one option, the spots are very limited, and most Dolls have to think about and find their next path to livelihood.
"If you can't fight on the battlefield anymore, what are you planning to do, senior?"
I thought I was ready to accept my fate, but as the deadline approached, I got more and more scared. I still haven't figured out how to answer Stechkin's question. Back then, things were urgent, and I didn't have time to think about it. But now, her question keeps popping back into my mind.

Can someone like me... an old Doll who's been active on the battlefield and has no other skills or hobbies... really adapt to a new job?
As I kept thinking, I found myself standing in front of Helian's office door again. This... could be my last chance.
I rehearsed what I was going to say to Helian at the door. Nervously, I reached out and touched the doorknob. This time, I have to say it!
...Huh? The office door opened by itself.
Stechkin? Why does she always show up at the most unexpected times?

"Ah, Senior!"
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to submit my application. I have to thank you for leading the way. You gave me the courage to accept the reassignment and contribute to building a beautiful Green Zone," Stechkin grabbed my hand and shook it up and down exaggeratedly. "But... did I hear you right just now? Senior, are you having second thoughts? Well, it's too late now. The spots have already been filled."
What? Did she hear my muttering?
My face heated up quickly, and the speech I had prepared was instantly shattered and thrown into the recycling bin. I fled again.
Second attempt, a failure.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: None
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Nagant M1895
Mission ID: N/A
Time: █/█/206█
Status: N/A

On the Intercontinental Railway train heading to the designated satellite city, I actually ran into Stechkin!
Honestly, seeing her made me feel a bit more at ease.
Most of the Dolls on this Intercontinental Railway train came from different PMCs. We're here to undergo unified data entry and then wait for further instructions.
During this period, we've been temporarily assigned to street patrols to quickly adapt to our new identities.
A lot of information has been uploaded into my neural cloud, including the construction plans for the Green Zone and details about the place we're heading to, something called a "satellite city", along with a bunch of propaganda slogans.
The data shows that life in the satellite city is completely different from what I've experienced before, and the tasks assigned to Dolls are also entirely different. This satellite city is still in the planning and construction phase, and both the nature and the mode of our work here are brand new.
The principle of working here is to follow orders, keep smiling, and only do things within your own responsibilities. There is no room for personal emotions.
Will my life get back on track with such regimented management?
While patrolling, I came across a child. When I saw her fall, I instinctively helped her up, but she looked at me in panic and ran away. Am I that scary?

I saw her again during a riot.
It was the day before Thanksgiving. We, the unemployed Dolls, were sent to maintain order after receiving an emergency mission.
We held hands and surrounded the agitated crowd. Soon after, law enforcement arrived, and the child was punched and kicked by the clerk just because she was suspected of stealing a turkey from the store.
I thought I should stop the Doll who raised the gun at her. Stechkin seemed to want to do something too, but she could only stand there.
The riot got worse. In the chaos, I saw the girl being subdued. When she fell, I saw tears of indignation in her eyes.

As an unemployed Doll, I stuck to the regulations and did my job well.

After returning to the dorm, I took out my gun and wiped it over and over again. The radio was broadcasting news about today's riot. In this riot, five people were injured, including... that child.
Should I... have handled this better?
In the past... I would never have thought about such things.

"Oh, I really want to go back to Griffin... If the Commander were here, this wouldn't have happened."
"But then you wouldn't see new sights, right? Though I also wish the Commander hadn't left."
"Whoa!!"
The sudden sound startled me, and the gun slipped out of my hand, bouncing pitifully on the ground twice, and landing at the feet of my visitor.
It's Stechkin, why is she here again?
"When we wrapped up today, I noticed you didn't look so good. You out hiding in the dorm and secretly wiping your tears?"
Stechkin picked up my gun and looked at me with a smirk.
"Wiping my tears? No way!"
I retorted righteously, snatching the gun from her hand and turning my back to her.
"Hey, wanna go get some fresh air with me?"

The satellite city was brightly lit at night, and the deserted streets during the day finally shone with some life.
I have no idea how she found the stairs to the rooftop, but the view is pretty nice. Though having brought me here, why isn't she saying anything?
"Stechkin, say something, will you?"
"Huh? Say what? Oh, I got the payment for my reinforcement last time, thanks. Don't forget to count me in next time there's a good money-making opportunity."
"No, I mean... did you call me out here just to get some fresh air and cool down my neural cloud?"
"What else could it have been...?"
This little imp... you can't expect anything nice from her.
"Stechkin, let's be serious. Ahem, we've been here for a while now. Do you... regret choosing to settle here? I mean... you made this choice because of my influence as your senior. If you feel bad about it, I also have some responsibility..."
"Not at all, Senior. Working for a PMC is too dangerous. You might make money but not live long enough to spend it. It's better to retire here with you. It's much easier, right?"
What? Is that really what she thinks? And here I was, all worried about her!
I should forget all about my dignity as a senior, I don't care anymore! This isn't Griffin anyway!

After chasing Stechkin for five kilometers, we finally stopped in front of a closed café.
"Senior, there are harsh realities everywhere. We do our job to give more people a stable life. Sometimes you're too straightforward, always thinking about fighting fair and square. Sometimes you need to be more strategic."
I didn't expect her to say something comforting.
Maybe she realized I was the one who regretted making this decision?
"If your overwhelming sense of justice has nowhere to go, why not set a small target first? Like, start by helping one person? At least get moving and take a step forward. Look, didn't we just run a long way?"
I turned my head and looked at the road we ran on. This new environment... might not be so hard to stomach after all.
Our work may be ruthless, but it really does protect the residents of this city.
My junior is trying hard to adapt to this new life, so why am I, a senior, being so cowardly? That's not like me at all!
"Yeah, I guess I'll just have to get used to it, since I must look after my junior."
"Then why don't you help me out first? I also have to make a living—and I'm short on money, Senior. Ah, no, now we're all newbies here, I can just call you Nagant M1895, right?"
This little imp... I smacked Stechkin on the head. Anyway, this chaotic night run did ease my worries a bit.
Despite her sharp tongue, this junior does care about me.

A few days later, I got a message from Kalina.
She said she's gradually settled down in the URNC. She was in a rush when she left, so she couldn't say goodbye to us individually. Now that she has some time, she wanted to check in on us.
She still worries a lot. Ah, wait, maybe... I can ask her about this.
I glanced at Stechkin, who's hard at work, and whispered to Kalina in the corner to ask for a favor.

...
I heard Kalina's laughter from the other end. Seriously, it took a lot for me to spit it out!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Doll Team Division 3, Department of Public Security in Poltava and Surrounding Cities
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Nagant M1895
Mission ID: N/A
Time: 206█-█-█
Status: N/A

After that, Stechkin and I were 'luckily' assigned to the same security team in the same area, patrolling the entrances and exits of the satellite city together.
All thanks to Kalina.
But Stechkin must never find out about this... Otherwise, how can I keep my dignity as a senior?
A lot happened after that. I gradually got used to my new job and learned to find opportunities to relax after work. At the very least, I mustn't turn into a jerk who fires upon the weak.
Even though I've been working like this for a while, long enough that the excuse of 'not adapting' no longer holds, I know I'm still lost. I don't know what to do next... I need a clear action plan, just like when I train newcomers.

Stechkin doesn't care about any of this; she just keeps complaining about not having enough money. But... her stuff in the dorm keeps piling up, and some of it has even ended up at my place.
Of course, we've got a little secret between us—the 'hide and seek' mission from a while back.
Even though I got a warning for being off duty for too long... half of this month's salary went to Stechkin as 'overtime' pay.

A crisp notification came from Stechkin's communicator. No, it wasn't a transfer alert; it was the sound of my heart bleeding.
"Ugh... out of money again..." I remembered, ever since I started hanging out with her, I'm always the one sending her money, just like back in the days at Griffin.
"Senior, I told you to make more money. Look, your salary can disappear at any time. If you don't increase your income, you'll soon not even have enough to cover your frame maintenance."
Who do I have to thank for this...? Although I want to complain, after all, it was I who asked Stechkin for help, so the only thing I could do was swallow this bitter pill.
"Senior, I've got quite a profitable gig here, want to join me?"

"Get your melon seeds and drinks here, need some popcorn, sir?"
Stechkin, wearing the uniform issued by the theater, greeted the movie-goers with a smile.
And I held up a sign with movie-watching instructions to help maintain order.
"How about it, senior? Not a bad job, eh?" Stechkin came over, "Hold the sign higher."
I angrily raised the sign and roared, "Isn't this high enough? Like this? Is this high enough?!"

Superhero movies have become popular recently. They say that after strong appeals from the residents of the satellite city, the municipal government finally agreed to open some theaters and lifted the ban on a bunch of movies.
"Shh... Calm down, Senior. Just hold on a bit longer. Once the movie starts, we can finish our work. Plus, we get to watch for free."
If it weren't for trying to keep up with the latest trends among young people, I wouldn't be here doing this job. I want to see what's so great about this superhero movie.

"Damn, they have no idea how hard he works!" I watched the superhero in the movie getting criticized and waved my fist in anger, "I get it! I want to be a hero!"
"Looks like you're totally into the movie, Senior. Look at you, saying such bold things. But even though we're staff, we mustn't forget basic movie-watching manners. If we're too loud, we'll get kicked out."
"Alright, alright... Stechkin, seriously, don't you think we're also like superheroes, silently protecting this city?"
"Are you talking about... what happened last time?"
"Yeah, the 'hide and seek' operation!"
"Sort of. But... have you ever thought about what would happen to those kids after they leave the satellite city?"
"What do you mean?"
"Let's play a game. Let's imagine what their lives would be like, just like in the movie, okay?"
"Sure!"
"Since I respect my elders, you go first."
"..."

In a dark corner of the theater, Stechkin and I pieced together the lives of those kids through a game of storytelling.
"At 10, he escaped the Green Zone with the help of a hero and found his long-lost relatives.
"At 15, he worked in highly contaminated areas to survive and almost contracted ELID.
"At 20, he narrowly escaped death, passed the preliminary selection, got an identity chip, entered the satellite city, landed a job in the White Zone, and was reunited with his childhood crush.
"At 30, he missed the last train back to the satellite city, got mugged on the way, and lost his belongings. His crush left him due to an arranged marriage.
"At 35, he bounced back and opened a grocery store in the satellite city with the savings from his White Zone job."
"At 40, he got busted for selling contraband, and the hero who saved him when he was 10 even slapped the cuffs on him and he got sentenced."
"At 50, he turned his life around, enjoyed his later years, and had a wife and kids."
"Wait... Senior, isn't this happy ending a bit too forced?"
"You're the one always thinking negatively."
"...Senior, you're way too optimistic."
"I know what you're trying to say. If I hadn't helped them back then, none of this would have been possible. So, if I see someone needing help in the future, I'll still lend a hand."
"Well, in this regard, Senior, your mindset does make you quite the model of heroism."
"Huh? Really? You always spout nonsense so seriously; I can't tell if you're praising me or... uh! So bright!"

The movie ended, and as the end credits began to roll, the dark theater lit up again. I reflexively raised my hand to shield my eyes, then realized my vision module could adjust the light intake on its own, and awkwardly put my hand down.
"Who knows~ It's good that you have a goal, but like I always say, don't lose your job over unnecessary worries." Stechkin was the first to walk out of the theater. "And... what seems right at the moment might not be so black-and-white when you look back later."
"Huh?" I didn't understand.
"I mean—next time, I won't be doing such dangerous things with you."
Seriously, this girl always says she won't help, but when you need her, she always comes through without hesitation.
What a stubborn junior.
"Okay, I'll work hard to make money, otherwise next time... I won't be able to pay you."

But... a hero...
In my confused neural cloud, the word "hero" was shining bright.
"Being a hero" was originally a random slogan that I shouted on a whim, but... after hearing her say that, I actually wanted to do something.
Hmm... by the way, what does "heroism" actually mean? Was it a popular adjective among young people nowadays? Or was it a noun?
To maintain my image of seniority in front of Stechkin, I quietly searched the Internet for this word and found several different definitions. One of them was "the courage, tenacity, and self-sacrifice shown to actively complete a mission of great significance"... What, self-sacrifice? That's a tad exaggerated... I shrugged a bit guiltily.
Ahem, but I suppose "bravery" and "tenacity" are quite fitting for me?
That's it! This could be my action plan! With this thought in mind, my boring and repetitive life now seems less unbearable.

"What are you thinking about? Senior, it's time to get ready for the next screening."
"I think... 'Heroism' sounds pretty good."
"Huh?"
"Come on, is this the next one? Let's watch it again!"
"Huh?! Again? Spare me..."
Dragging Stechkin along, I quickly ran to the next theater.

If I get the chance, I hope I can do something to protect this city. I think if it were the Commander, they would definitely make the same choice.
Yeah, there will definitely be a chance!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Transformation Point

Summary

During Griffin & Kryuger's restructuring, ^AR QBZ-191QBZ-191QBZ-191 decides to apply to stay at the PMC despite not being a long-time member since she's been entrusted with many important missions. She didn't expect to spend most of her time idle since Griffin stopped receiving as many commissions, despite Kalina's best recommendation efforts in her new position at the Non-Military Forces Administration. Paired with ^SG AA-12AA-12AA-12, QBZ-191 starts involving herself in the choice of prospective commissions. 191's broad and careful intel analysis leads her to discover details enabling Griffin to gain the trust of the clients. Helian notices that 191 develops a form of OCD from this work and starts to draw up plans precise to the second.

A year later, Griffin has built up more work opportunities, and Helian asks the Griffin Dolls to form new teams. She also requires the Dolls to find new names for themselves as part of Griffin's rebranding. Marking the end of her days as a lone wolf and the start of her career as a team leader, QBZ-191 takes the name Qiongjiu and names her Squad Frostfall.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: QBZ-191
Mission ID: █-█-█
Time: Day 4
Status: Completed

It's 2 p.m., and today's sun shines brightly.
Just after getting back from the mission, I was walking down the Griffin hallway, thinking about whether to take a break at the Café or to service my signal amplifier.

The green vegetation outside the corridor windows is lush, but my vision module seems to catch some yellow leaves with insect infestations—
The plants are supposed to be maintained by dedicated gardening robots, theoretically these leaves should be cleaned up soon.
Are the robots broken? Could it be a program malfunction? Something's off.
Now that I think about it, the atmosphere at Griffin has been rather strange as of late.
The rate of sorties has taken a nose dive, the tasks themselves were more trivial, and even the mission intel was full of oversights.
This never happened when the Commander and Kalina were around.

Just during the mission, the new recruit in the team was rambling about how Griffin was going to be disbanded. We will find ourselves without a roof over our heads and we might even get scrapped and sold to a junkyard, only the awaken in the middle of the night looking for our own body parts because we'd still have some power left... or something like that..
Griffin, gone?
This kind of joke isn't funny at all!

My terminal rang.
The mission is complete, who's trying to reach me?

...

Life is full of unexpected twists and turns.
I stared at the terminal for a solid 5 minutes.
Griffin... really is gone.
No, that's not the right way to put it. According to the email, Griffin is being restructured.
Griffin's total size is being rigorously regulated, only a few may stay. Most Dolls will have to choose between accepting resettlement or trying to find their own way out.

The email came in at slightly different times for each; all the Dolls in the hallway gradually stopped whatever they were doing. Most of them, just like me, stared blankly at their terminal.
I thought I heard faint sobbing.
In time like this... should I say something to lighten the mood?
"Hey, why is everyone looking down and not talking? Ah... this isn't a freeze frame, right?"
That definitely did not help.

Luckily, right after I said that, some Dolls started to accept the situation and began comforting those around them.
Before joining Griffin, most of these Dolls had worked elsewhere. Thanks to their efforts, the atmosphere became a bit less gloomy, and everyone started discussing their future plans.
"What's going to happen to Griffin?"
"No matter what, I want to stay at Griffin... I don't know what else I could do if I leave..."
"There aren't a lot of spots. I will leave my place for others."
"Don't worry so much, there will always be other opportunities."
"I remember they said they would send a list of resettlement jobs? Anyway, let's see what we can do now."

On the terminal, in the team chat of my squad, the members also began to discuss whether to stay or leave.
I made my decision without much contemplation.
I want to stay at Griffin and carry on as a T-Doll. After all, this is what I'm good at~
"Well... I'll keep everyone's contact information. If we end up in the same city during our missions later, we can still meet up and have a chat or something."
All other members have decided to leave Griffin. As long as they do not venture into the contamination zones, getting into contact shouldn't be a big problem.
Next, I needed to write and submit my application.

"You've made your mind already?" Helian looked a bit surprised in her office.
"Despite not being with Griffin for long, you entrusted me with many large-scale operations. Those missions weren't easy... But we prevailed, and I managed to protect a lot of companions. Although... the Commander left."
Helian adjusted her glasses, with a nostalgic look on her face, but she didn't respond to me.

"Griffin will probably face a lot of issues during the restructuring. I want to stay with the new Griffin and keep protecting everyone."
"...Most are hesitant. Many have submitted applications only to withdraw them later. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"
"No, I've decided to stay with Griffin."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: QBZ-191
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

In the following days, everyone gradually made their decisions.
Those who chose to accept reallocation boarded buses and headed to various destinations; those who chose to go about their own ways packed their things and left Griffin in small groups.
During the farewell, I didn't closely observe everyone's expressions, but I imagine... it definitely was a mix of reluctance, anticipation, heaviness, and bewilderment.

Griffin is being restructured, and the whole world at large is quietly and rapidly changing.
Inside Griffin, my feelings weren't very clear, but from the messages on the terminal, I learned a lot about what was happening outside.

More and more places are being incorporated into the URNC. Under URNC control, the various urban clusters that humans rely on for survival have started to develop. The Dolls living in these urban clusters won't be taken away as scrap and dismantled for parts if they possess clear affiliation.
For the Dolls trying to find their own path, this is definitely a good thing.

Then, the scale of PMC got limited, the industry kept shrinking, and the remaining ones were all placed under the newly established Non-Military Forces Administration.
Non-Military Forces Administration...
Shouldn't Kalina be there now?
She must be swamped right now. The newly established department still has to manage the previously almost uncontrollable armed forces. I wonder if she'll ever get a chance to come back to Griffin for a visit...

The newly reorganized Griffin is very different from before.
I originally thought that in the new Griffin, I just needed to follow the schedule, do my missions, and in my free time, hang out at the café, chat, and joke with other Dolls. I didn't expect to spend most of my days 'hanging out'.

It was AA-12 who made me realize this.
This is the fifth time in two days that I've passed by the café, and the fifth time I've seen her lying on the table, looking like she hasn't moved, still holding a can in her hand.
"Are you... low on battery and in sleep mode? AA-12?"
"...Oh, 191... out of things to do? Leave me alone."

...There really isn't anything to do...

I pulled out a chair and sat across her, then picked up the can that was about to fall from her hand, placing it in the center of the table.
The can was filled with white sugar cubes, which seemed to be leftover stock from the café. I have no idea where it came from.

"What's up? Why do I always see you slumped over here?"
"..."
AA-12 opened the can, popped a sugar cube into her mouth, ignoring me.
"Hmm... Let me guess, you didn't do well in the simulation training?"
"There have been no missions, so what's the point of training..."
"So it must be that... you were in hibernation mode last night and dreamt about something, but then woke up before the dream could end. Now you really want to know what happened next and want to go back to see how it ends?"
"...Doll, dreaming? Don't you mean contextual simulation... Nothing's interesting about that?"
"Really? I wish I could find some space to store all that data~"
"Store it for what?"
"Well—use it as electronic warfare material? Mix and edit them to create tons of redundant data that we can use to clog up the enemy's system and make them lose their bearings on the battlefield!"
She looked at me with a puzzled gaze and turned her head to the side.
"Alright, let's hear what you have to say."

She laid on the table for quite a while before whispering something.
"...Lina... radio..."
I didn't catch the whole sentence, but from the few sounds, I could roughly guess what she meant.
"I get it, you're missing Kalina's late-night radio podcast, right?"

Alright, her eyes started to wander!
"Ahem, dear listeners, kept you waiting! It's time for our daily talk session! Oh, I have yet to receive any message."

AA-12 laid there for some time before picking up her terminal.
"Alright, I just received the first message, 'I feel so out of place now, I miss the way things used to be.' Hmm, it's a bit vague. Can this listener explain a bit more?"

Not long after, my terminal rang again.
"Looks like this listener is tuning into my show. Her reply is—"

Staring at the words on the screen, I didn't read further.
"Life is so laid-back now, but without any missions, idling around like this only makes me feel purposeless and meaningless. I'm a Tactical Doll, a pretty strong at that. I can't just sit here all day and do nothing."

Actually... I feel the same way she does.
The reason I stayed in Griffin is that I wanted to keep protecting everyone.
But is hanging around doing nothing every day really protecting others?

With these doubts in mind, I pushed open the door to Helian's office.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: QBZ-191
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

The jeep was driving back to Griffin. With her hat pulled over her face, AA-12 looked like she was in sleep mode.
But I knew she wasn't really "asleep" at all.
The jeep drove silently along the road, lurching periodically like a ticking clock, making her more anxious. I knew it wouldn't be long—

"191, I'm so fed up!"
Sure enough, she spoke up.
"Don't be mad, at least we got a 30% commission this time, plus some extra compensation."
"Is this only about the money? They must be crazy! Do they expect me to recycle my used bullets back into the magazine?"

Yes, after finally receiving a mission, we were told to withdraw before we had even arrived at the target location. The reason was that the client, after some consideration, decided that they already had sufficient firepower at their disposal—he had hired other teams and no longer needed Griffin's involvement. Such incidents are not uncommon.

To explain the cause for this whole situation... we must start from the meeting I had with Helian after having a heart-to-heart with AA-12.

At that time, I went to Helian's office and explained my thoughts to her. Helian pondered for a moment and finally came clean about Griffin's actual state after the reshuffling—Griffin's power had been significantly reduced. Despite Kalina's continued effort in recommending Griffin to her clients at the Non-Military Forces Administration, commissions for Griffin had been few and far between.

It's true that the former senior management had joined the Non-Military Forces Administration, but it's also true that Griffin was ordered to undergo reshuffling.
After downsizing, Griffin isn't much different from other small PMCs. There are some commissions that we simply cannot handle anymore... As for the ones that are within our capability, clients have plenty of options to choose from.
Moreover... at this stage, whether it is safe to work with the newly overhauled Griffin still remains to be seen.

Clients are adopting a wait-and-see attitude, and until this indefinite observation period blows over, our source of commissions will be unstable.
Those with enough weight to throw around would outright refuse to work with Griffin, while those who could not afford to do that would find some random excuse to cancel the mission, just like this time.
Paying for some damages is better than taking on more potential risks.

I believe that with Kalina's help, proving that working with the overhauled Griffin is perfectly safe is just a matter of time.
But the problem is... we're running out of time.

Although the organization has been downsized, Griffin's combat force still consists mainly of T-Dolls, and the maintenance gets very costly.
However, as the current leader Helian has said, this is one of Griffin's strengths and has always been Griffin's hallmark.
We can't give up, and we absolutely mustn't give up.

According to our intel, there are now several organizations in the market claiming to be backed by Griffin. Some are incompetent, others are unscrupulous, each more ridiculous than the last... The only thing they all have in common is that they have absolutely nothing to do with Griffin.
It's kind of funny; most clients keep their distance from Griffin, but these organizations think it helps them get business.
Such deception might actually work in contamination zones, where it's difficult to differentiate between genuine and false information. They are essentially exploiting the inaccessibility of information to deceive the poor souls who are out of the loop.

"I get your concerns, but right now... there aren't many reliable missions that can be completed," Helian replied to me in the office.
"Then just give us whatever we can handle for now. Don't worry too much about the client's attitude, as long as it won't put us at a deficit. AA-12 and I... we both want to do more."
"But then you and AA-12 would..."
"We don't have a choice right now. Maybe once we actually start working with clients, they won't be so hesitant anymore? Don't worry, AA-12 and I will show them that Griffin is still on top of our game."

Fast forward to today, when we're on the mission—
Unfortunately, the client made it clear with their actions that they're not convinced. No matter how good AA-12 and I are, we can't compare to Griffin's heyday when we could send out squad after squad of T-Dolls.
But... at least we got some compensation and pro-rata commission fees.
This money might have been insignificant to Griffin in the past, but now, it's quite a considerable sum.

"191, we can't keep going like this!" declared AA-12 as she sat up in the back seat.
"Obviously not. We'll go talk to Helian again. Next time, we'll make sure the commission is completed from start to finish," I reassured her.
AA-12 decided she'd believe me, perhaps because I had helped her with her problem a while ago. She leaned back heavily and stared languidly out the window.
But I wasn't just saying that to comfort her. I... really had to make some changes.
The reason I stayed in Griffin was to save people from danger, and not let myself become a silent shadow in this city.

After returning to Griffin, I went to Helian's office.
She was the one who gave the order to terminate the mission, so she naturally understood why I was there. She adjusted her monocle awkwardly.
"How's AA-12 holding up?"
"I managed to calm her down for now, but I can't promise I'll be able to stop her from charging in next time. Honestly, even I feel like paying the client a visit and showing them who is the redundant team that should be dropped here."
"Ugh, maybe we should just forget it. I'll find a way to secure more reliable commissions."
"But we'll still have the same problem. The fewer commissions Griffin takes, the more worried the potential clients will get. Are there restrictions on what commissions Griffin can take? Are Griffin even capable of completing commissions? These speculations do us no good."
Helian let out another heavy sigh.
"They won't even give face to the Non-Military Forces Administration now."
"The Non-Military Forces Administration hasn't been around long enough and hasn't fully established itself yet. The PMCs it oversees are still our competitors. They may not dare antagonize us openly, but they're not above playing tricks to hinder us."
"...I'll prepare more detailed introduction materials and allocate more funds."
"Yeah, there's nothing wrong with that, but I have another idea—how about letting them know more about our practices?"
Helian frowned, clearly not understanding what I meant.

"It's not like it used to be. Back then, Griffin had an absolute advantage in firepower and widespread support. But we no longer have that edge. Even if we lower our fees a bit, it's hard to satisfy the clients. If we cut them too much, we'll end up in a bottomless price war and won't be able to make ends meet."
"Are you suggesting we target the low-end market?"
"I haven't figured it out yet, but exploring more possibilities isn't a bad thing. Let me see the next commission that you think is unreliable?"

Helian, still skeptical, synced over the commission details—it was from a wealthy businessman; the client's name rang a bell.
From what I remembered... he once hosted a banquet for the Commander and Kalina after a commission, acting like they'd be lifelong friends from then on.
It's a shame that a human's lifetime seems so short now.

Did the Commander decide to leave after seeing through the fickleness of human nature?
I'm not sure... but I'll do everything I can to protect Griffin.
As long as the wanderer's home remains, we will meet again someday.

"Is this the commission that Kalina referred to us?"
"Yeah, but when Kalina gave it to me, she just said we could try to make contact... The other party clearly stated that there would be a bidding process."
This is another typical "give us a chance" situation. I doubt the other party would even bother to read through the bid that we submit.
Not to mention, this "chance" is even worse than the previous commissions. If Griffin doesn't win the bid, we get nothing.

"Our chances are so slim I don't think we should bother."
I didn't respond to Helian, but instead carefully read through the commission details.
Soon, I came to a decision.

"Let's reach out, but we would need Kalina to arrange a meeting with the client before the bidding session."
"So... that's your way of making them understand our approach? You... talk? But you should know that sweet-talking only leads to superficial cooperation, which doesn't help with the actual work." Helian hesitated for a moment and added, "I also doubt your precious 'code of chivalry' would do you any good."
"That remains to be seen. As for the meeting time... hmm, let me think... Let's try to set it ten days from now, before the bidding closes? AA-12 and I need to make some preparations over the next few days. We'll be sure to fully convey Griffin's sincerity to the other party.
"Oh, by the way, Helian, since you're the leader of Griffin, why don't you come along? If I do something out of line, you can just shut me down and that'll be that."

Helian stared at me for a moment and sighed.
"You know I wouldn't do that."
"And you know I wouldn't do that either. Just wait and see, I'll discuss everything with you once I'm ready."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: QBZ-191
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"Ms. Helian, I'll make sure someone reads Griffin's bid thoroughly. We'll clarify the details at the bidding meeting."
The client personally escorted us to the company's entrance, being a picture of politeness—a stark contrast to his demeanor when we first met this morning.
"Yes, we'll fully cooperate with the adjustments. Sorry for taking up so much of your time today, the meeting ran longer than expected."
"No problem at all, it's our fault for not scheduling enough time. Ms. Helian, are you sure you don't need me to send a driver to take you both to the station?"
"No thanks, I'm sure we'll have many more opportunities to work together, and it's good for us to get to know the city."
The client didn't say anything else. They just shook hands with Helian, with a typical business smile on their face—polite, yet somewhat insincere.

Helian and I were walking down the streets of the White Zone.
This city in the White Zone has been developing for quite a while, and its infrastructure is well-established. Around us were towering skyscrapers and wide roads, with luxury cars speeding by and sharply dressed pedestrians on the sidewalks. Although their expressions varied, there wasn't any straightforward hostility or suspicion I was used to seeing.

Just looking at this scene, it was hard to believe how bad the polluted areas are.
If you don't understand this world, it's also hard to feel the indifference beneath the kind faces of the people living here, and the undercurrents beneath the peace and beauty.
Commander, do you hate this place?

But I feel that everywhere is the same, and we can't escape no matter where we go.
...On the other hand, maybe the contamination zone you're heading to will let you settle scores more freely.

"What are you thinking about?" Helian's voice brought me back to reality.
"Hmm~ I was just thinking, Helian in a suit looks more fitting here. If you take off your monocle and dress up a bit, you'd definitely be a super popular corporate white-collar worker."
"R-really?" Helian was touched for a moment, "Ahem, I mean, maybe after our sales pick up, we could move our headquarters to a well-developed White Zone city like this."
"You're thinking too far ahead, we've only negotiated one deal. But judging by the client's attitude, it should almost certainly go through. If all goes well, they will give us more commissions later."
"No merchant would refuse a business that's all profit. Thanks to the proposal you and AA-12 prepared—especially that one-page document—we achieved our goal without spending too much money or time."
"After all, the key to doing business is to understand what the customer really needs. I just didn't expect that we would be so lucky to find that 'additional bargaining chip' this time."

This was not modesty—the discovery a few days ago was purely accidental.
Even though I had boasted to Helian, I didn't really have full confidence.
After all, at first I thought... maybe Griffin could rely on years of experience to conduct a more comprehensive analysis of the commission, even incorporating and integrating surrounding information, and based on this commission, form a set of reusable contingency plan templates. Once all these are done, maybe we could somewhat rely on past "favors" to persuade the client to consider choosing us.
I don't mean to brag, but whether it's Helian who is rapidly losing weight, the increasingly irritable AA-12, or the other Dolls staying in Griffin, we all need more hope and faith.
And encouraging everyone is what I'm good at.
...Though without real changes, this encouragement only lasts for a short time.

Let's go back to this morning.
Thanks to Kalina's efforts, the other party finally agreed to meet with us before the bidding meeting, scheduled for 11 a.m.
I knew very well that they had no intention of having lunch with us. If I couldn't get them interested in Griffin's proposal within half an hour, then there would be no point for us to even attend the bidding meeting.

This commission was actually just a simple escort mission, and I had already written the proposal.
Besides the proposal, I was also holding a thick stack of documents—these were collected by AA-12 and Helian and included some public personal information of the client, recent related news, the client's industry financial reports, and the client's recent employment records.
Among them, there was a one-page document.
"If the client shows no interest in our plan, don't take out that piece of paper," Helian advised me when she saw that document.

Maybe... I should read through the proposal and the documents one more time. Knowing more might help avoid awkward silences in the meeting later...
If we can connect the topics in advance, our discussion should go more smoothly. Getting the client to open the proposal first is very important...
I reassured myself that way.

According to the data, the client originally started off by relying on food trade between various places within the safe zone, and at one point had a monopoly. Over the last few years, the company's operations have faced interference, leading them to cede some of the market share, but they have also established stable partnerships with some large enterprises.
However, be it due to a change in the company's direction or the client's personal work habits, in the past two years, the client, who had been steadily developing, had started intermittently following convoys to conduct business activities between different cities.
So, this escort commission is not just about the goods, but also about the client himself...

Finally, I found that one-page document.
In fact, it only had one address. It was just the name of a very remote satellite city and a district number, without specifying the exact street.
Somewhere in this area lives a child, not even ten years old.
This child... is likely the client's relative who got lost during the earlier chaos.
The information is at least 70% credible—quite high in today's world.
The client probably frequently followed the transport convoys to different cities in search of this child.

As for how I noticed this...
When I looked at the client's personal information before, I found it a bit odd. Even though transportation between cities has become much safer lately, does a businessman who has already established himself and manages a large corporation really need to regularly travel with a convoy?
Was it for field research? Or was there some special reason...
Following this line of thought, I rechecked the timeline and reviewed all the public information about the client. I discovered that, a few years ago, the client had some family and marriage issues, which even caused the company's stock price to drop... And it happened during chaotic times, so the outcome was probably not in their favor.
The root of the problem was... I went through various news articles, from reputable journals to mere internet rumors, so it was hard to distinguish fact from fiction.
But I had a hunch that the answer to my questions might be hidden behind these pieces of information.
With the combined efforts of Helian, Kalina, AA-12, and many others, this "answer" is now written on this piece of paper.

With five minutes left until 11 o'clock, Helian and I stood up and got ready to head to the meeting room.
Before today, I didn't believe in luck.
Dolls are more rational beings, and all outcomes can be traced back to their causes using logical reasoning.
...But I have to admit, uncovering the client's family issues was a long shot, and it's even more of a stretch that we managed to pinpoint the general area where the client's lost child is now.
What made this possible... was probably luck.
I hope this luck sticks with us a bit longer.

...

Back to the present. During a rare break, Helian and I continued to stroll down the street.
"Now that I think about it, we were really lucky. Everything went according to our plan. The client was only slightly interested in the plan we provided before, so I handed over the paper. Unexpectedly, the client got excited all of a sudden."
"Do you think it was just pure luck? I don't think so." Helian shook her head. "This is the result of you continuously comparing existing data to optimize the plan, noticing the client's unusual behavior, and then clarifying the direction for data collection—all of that led to this outcome."
"I didn't think it was unusual at the time. I just noticed something in common between several times when the client's participated in trade convoy transportation..."
To be more specific, I found that, although the timing was irregular, the geographical area of the client's actions following the transport convoy was consistent.

Fortunately, for several of the transport missions, he hired PMC teams.
With Kalina's help, I got the reports submitted by the PMCs after those missions were completed. In the reports, I found that the client often stayed in certain cities beyond the usual range.

"He is looking for something."
This conclusion gradually became clear in my mind, and then, "If I can find out more and help him find clues, Griffin, which is quickly being forgotten, will appear more 'reliable' compared to other PMCs."

This kind of reliability might just be the cornerstone of rebuilding relationships with clients for Griffin.
I think this approach could help Griffin find more opportunities.

In the future, even if Griffin doesn't spot similar "anomalies" like this time, just using Griffin's years of experience and detailed information to develop scalable plans will definitely be more attractive to clients than what other competitors offer.
It might take some effort each time to get the clients to seriously review the materials Griffin submits...

I hope this cooperation can be a great starting point.
Of course, if it still doesn't work out, I can always find more ways—if we can't defeat a strong enemy head-on, isn't it time for the heroes to show their skills and just fly over the obstacles?

"It's good that you gathered a lot of information, but isn't the action plan you submitted a bit too detailed?" Helian looked at me, a bit exasperated. "Not every client can accept their guards timing their meals down to a second."
"That's to ensure the client's absolute safety. Plus, with all the information we've collected, it would be a waste not to use it to fine-tune the plan. A detailed plan puts everyone at ease."
"You weren't like this before, were you? Isn't it called OCD? When did you get OCD?"
"Dolls are different from humans, it doesn't take that long to change! And, I think... this might help us with missions."
"I can't say for sure yet, but it's a bit strange for a Doll to have OCD. Wait, were you even defending it just now?"
"Alright, I'll change the plan. Yes, I will. Oh, by the way, we have about 5 minutes before we reach the station. Helian, do you mind preparing your documents?"
"..."
Helian sighed and started looking for her documents. When she picked them up, she paused.
"What's wrong?"
She looked up with a serious expression, making me stiffen and start checking for any possible mistakes.
Helian frowned and slowly held up her ID in front of me. In the photo, she was wearing a uniform, her hair neatly combed behind her ears, with a serious and focused expression.
"Do I really look better without my glasses?"

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team, Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62G
Imprint Model: QBZ-191
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"You... you said it would work! You said it! It doesn't count! Pay me back!" Helian slammed her hands hard on the counter, looking a little out of it.
"If you slam a couple more times, your hands are gonna break, you know? Stop it."
"I... what am I even doing? My glasses... you told me to take them off, and after I did—I didn't become popular after? And... contact lenses are uncomfortable... Ugh... so uncomfortable!"
"Then just put your glasses back on."
"No! No—way!"
3, 2, 1...
"Blech!"
I managed to put the bucket in front of Helian in time, thus successfully avoiding getting asked for a cleaning fee by the bar owner while also feeling a bit sorry for how familiar I've become with this.

Almost a year has passed. With everyone's joint efforts, Griffin finally got through that tough time.
Now, even without Kalina's referrals, Griffin can steadily receive various commissions.
The clients have their own social circles, and through word of mouth, Griffin's reliability and professionalism have been reaffirmed.
The reliable management style together with Helian's serious and trustworthy attitude also made them feel more at ease to hand over important commissions to us.
The rogue leaps onto the city wall, opening the gate for the general to enter the city—that's how Helian and I work together.

I had this vague feeling that I'd finally climbed to a higher tower and thus could see farther.
And I hope that one day, I can see even farther, just to see that long-lost friend.
But until then, I'll help Helian protect Griffin.

As night fell, the bar started to get crowded.
Beep—an incoming call, it's AA-12.
"191! Are you with Helian? She asked me to come to the office and said you'd be here too—I'm in the office now! There's no one here! What's going on? Are you messing with me?"
I glanced at Helian in front of me. She was slumped over the counter as if she had fallen into a deep sleep.
"Hello? Anyone?"
"Sorry, I forgot to tell you, the meeting has been rescheduled to... 10:30 tomorrow morning, still in her office. I'll make sure she meets you on time."
Given Helian's current state, she should be able to regain her senses by 10:30 tomorrow.

Just as I predicted, by 10:30 on the next day, Helian was sitting in her office, dressed neatly, still stubbornly wearing contact lenses.
"Based on recent commissions, the number of Dolls required for a single task has significantly decreased compared to previous years. I believe it's necessary to re-establish long-term cooperative Doll teams under this trend."
"So, you want me to team up with AA-12?"
I glanced at AA-12. She was sitting on the couch with her head turned to the side, not looking at us.
But knowing her personality... if she didn't object right away, that meant she agreed.

"More than that." Helian transferred me an entire list of resumes, each belonging to a Doll currently at Griffin.
"QBZ-191, I want you to form a team with you as its leader. Pick Dolls with high synergy with you and AA-12 from the existing resumes."
"Leader? Well... no problem, but I need to go through these resumes carefully, and I might need to conduct some specific performance tests. Is that okay?"

Helian looked a bit surprised.
"You're not against it? Haven't you always preferred fighting alone?"
"Our battlefield has changed, and so has my way of fighting. It's only natural."
"As long as you're fine with it. But remember, you're not the only one ordered to form a team within Griffin. If you hesitate for too long, the talents will be snatched up."
"I'll keep that in mind." As I flipped through the resumes, I already had my answer.

"Oh, one more thing... You need to come up with a name for your squad. It would be best if you and your team members could get new names too, I mean—something more memorable."
"To make it easier for the public to remember?"
"Yes. Even after the reorganization, I want Griffin to maintain its elite status in the industry. This is part of the branding."
"Allow me some time to consider. Give me 5 minutes."

I know very well that every one of my comprehensive plans can't be put together without the support of AA-12, Helian, and others.
They are the ones who provide me with information and help share the computing load.

Back in the day, I was able to operate solo on the battlefield, aided not just by the Commander's support but also by numerous squads creating openings for me.
The people I chose to protect and support have always been the ones helping me in return.

"Just call me Qiongjiu. AA-12, come up with a name for yourself and report it to me and Helian when you're ready. Name is an important thing, so there's no deadline. Make sure to think it through."
AA-12 still didn't look at us, but I was sure she nodded.
She didn't tell me what she wanted to be called right away, probably because she hadn't decided yet.

"Qiongjiu... Alright, it's logged. What's the squad's name?"
"'Frostfall,' how about that?"
"What does that mean?" AA-12 asked, beating Helian to it.
Seeing their confusion, I smiled.
"Frostfall is the time of year with the biggest temperature difference between day and night. I hope our team and Griffin can be like this season, accommodating a broader range of missions and members. Be it extreme cold or scorching heat, we will remain brimming with opportunities and energy.—yeah, that's it."
"Got it."

My terminal received a new message and a notification sounded.
Profile update—
Qiongjiu.
Frostfall.

The air is stern, the dew turns to frost.
The Frostfall Squad will surely become Griffin's new shining beacon in this solemn world.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Homeseeker

Summary

This story is linked to Rhapsody Quartet and Dusty Memories#Returner's Determination.

After the Farkas incident, Centaureissi has gone back to her usual self and enjoys working at Zucchero Café. She also thanks Makiatto for helping her find her new direction in life, which makes Makiatto extremely embarrassed. After the Agreement was rescinded, the Dolls form Zucchero Squad and board the Elmo along with the members of H.I.D.E. 404. On the Elmo, Centaureissi returns to a position similar to the one she held at Griffin, splitting her time between missions and taking care of the Dolls and the Commander.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Zucchero Café, District K7, Satellite City CHE-02
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sturmgewehr 36
Mission ID: N/A
Time: █/█/207█
Status: N/A

Early morning, just before the first lights shine on the satellite city CHE-02.
I tied my apron, turned on the lights in the prep room, and started getting today's ingredients ready.
There will be a lot of customers coming for their take-out breakfast, so the bread for the sandwiches needs to be pre-sliced for easy heating later. The potatoes should be cut into medium-sized chunks for making mashed potatoes.
The drained vegetables should be just the right amount to avoid losing their crunch... And the bread, based on customer feedback, cutting off the crusts and making them into free snacks with the sandwiches seems to make them happier...
I reviewed the accumulated notes in my neural cloud while my hands kept working.
For a while, the only sound in the prep room was of vegetables being cut—chop-chop-chop-chop-chop. Uniform in strength, and in a steady rhythm, just like my life at the Zucchero Café, regular and fulfilling. Thinking of this, my mood seemed to brighten along with the sky outside the window.

"Good morning, I'm here~ ♥ Have you started the prep work already, Centaureissi?"
The energetic voice was followed by its owner, who cheerfully skipped to my side.
This is Miss Sharkry, a colleague of mine who also works at the Zucchero Café. She has recently passed the manager's assessment and is now a full-time waitress. Miss Sharkry used to be a performing Doll, so besides her serving duties, she also performs at the café.
Today, she and I are in charge of the morning shift.
"Let me help too~" she said as she leaned over, "Wow, today's ingredients are so fresh~ ♥"
"Yes, the vegetables were delivered an hour ago, and this batch is really good. The bacon the supplier brought yesterday is also great, with a perfect fat-to-lean ratio."
"Heheh, Centaureissi pointed out their mistakes seriously a few times before, and now this new supplier is very careful."
"Selecting high-quality ingredients for our customers is part of my job."
"Yes, yes, that's our foreman Centaureissi for you, always so thoughtful~"

’Thoughtful’... I've heard that compliment quite often.
I smiled as my thoughts drifted a bit.

I'm designed to be good at household chores, and taking care of those who require care is my basic function. You could say being thoughtful is my duty, and doing my duty isn't really something to be praised for.
Still, every time I hear everyone's compliments, I feel a bit of joy, especially when I was praised by the Commander at Griffin... Even though I was just doing my job as a maid, the Commander never failed to thank me.
I wonder how the Commander is doing now...?

My hands slowed as the indescribable bitterness threatened to overwhelm my neural cloud, and finally, I stopped. I looked at Sharkry, who was humming a song while opening the fridge. The large fridge door almost completely blocked her figure. I could only hear her muttering to herself:
"Not many choices left... So, what should today's special drink be...?" She stood up and thought for a few seconds, then suddenly looked at me, "Let's make a cute caramel macchiato! We can use icing to draw a little cat on top or decorate it with cookies to add some flavor~ ♥"
"Sure, that sounds good."
I smiled at her. Miss Sharkry looked at me a little slyly.
"Hmm? Centaureissi, your hands have stopped moving~"
"I was just thinking, Miss Sharkry, your imaginative way of serving has a very... personal touch."
"Personal touch? Hmm, I'll take that as a compliment? Thanks~ ♥"
"Yes, I can really feel your thoughtfulness from your actions."
I placed my hand on my chest. There was no human "heart" there, but even a Doll could convey the intention of caring for someone else. This was one of the important principles of being a maid that I learned from the Commander back at Griffin.

"Thoughtfulness..." Miss Sharkry tapped her cheek, as if she suddenly remembered something. "Speaking of which, didn't that ninny say she was coming today? Hmph, I'll just share a bit of Sharkry's thoughtfulness with her."
As she said this, she took out a large amount of sugar. I knew she was planning to make more caramel than usual.

Business was as usual, with a steady stream of customers during breakfast and lunch, but quiet in the afternoon. The weather is nice today, and the only three customers are sitting outside, enjoying Miss Sharkry's special drinks.
Inside, there's only one customer—Miss Makiatto, who came by just as she said she would. She's sitting by the window across Manager Springfield. I'm standing by in the outdoor area, ready to serve customers.

Through the glass window, I took in their serious expressions. They're probably discussing the investigation that Manager Springfield had asked Miss Makiatto to handle earlier.
Might it not be going well? Once the customers leave, I'll check if there's anything I can help with.
The manager noticed my gaze, smiled reassuringly, and mouthed to me—
"Don't worry about anything."
I nodded to her and checked on the customers in the al fresco area again—they were still chatting and didn't need my help for now.
"Thud, thud, thud," the strange noise behind me caught my attention. I turned around and saw Miss Sharkry's smiling face. She was holding a cup filled with a colorful liquid, topped with a generous amount of whipped cream, and adorned with several colorful candies.
...Is this Miss Sharkry's new creation?
Seeing my questioning look, Miss Sharkry gave me a standard smile, and I knew what it meant.
She pointed at Makiatto behind her, winked at me, and then walked towards her with a spring in her step.

As expected, the drink was placed in front of Miss Makiatto. Miss Makiatto's expression seemed to freeze for a moment, then she looked at Miss Sharkry indignantly and tried to say something.
But she couldn't.
Similar scenes kept occurring at Zucchero. Initially, I tried to maintain order, but now I merely watch things unfold. There’s nothing wrong with making the atmosphere in the store livelier as long as it doesn't disturb the customers.

I don't know what the manager or Miss Sharkry said, but Miss Makiatto finally picked up the cup and took a big gulp. She seemed... to find it delicious. Miss Sharkry had a slightly smug smile, and Miss Makiatto put down the cup with a look of disgust. However, after Miss Sharkry walked away, she picked up the cup and started sipping it again, just as she happened to meet my eyes through the window.
She quickly placed the cup back on the table and shouted something to me. I believe she said, "I just don't want to the ingredients to go to waste!"
I nodded and turned my gaze back to the al fresco area. The customers were still chatting.
Today is a nice day, just like yesterday.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Zucchero Café, District K7, Satellite City CHE-02
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sturmgewehr 36
Mission ID: N/A
Time: █/█/207█
Status: N/A

"Carrots, sweet potatoes, milk..." Miss Makiatto and I pushed the delivery cart, double-checking the tags on the wooden boxes against the inventory list.
"What's up with this road? It was fine just before... did a gravel truck pass by?"

Miss Makiatto didn't sound too happy. The dirt road that was all smooth and solid earlier now lay scattered with pebbles. An unexpected circumstance indeed.
"Let's just bear with it until we get through, Miss Makiatto."
The slight bump made the two milk bottles hanging on the edge of the wooden box clink together. I put a bit more strength into my right hand, steering the cart to the left to avoid the larger pebbles.
"We really should've rented a car. Trying to save a little money, only to end up with a big hassle isn't worth it."
"Yes. But they promised to deliver the goods once our partnership is made official, so we won't have to pick them up anymore." I nodded and pushed back the wooden box at the top that was about to slide off.
"Speaking of delivery, do you think that auntie at the farm will tag the extra she wanted to the delivery fee?"
"I don't believe so—Miss Makiatto, there's a deep rut ahead. It's going to be a bit bumpy, so please help me secure the box."
"Oh, okay!" Miss Makiatto promptly helped me out, and we managed to steady the wooden box.
"Really? But I remember her literally wrinkling her nose when we negotiated earlier. The price we quoted was already higher than the market, yet she still acted like we were ripping her off... We haven't even decided to go with her as the provider, and she's already in such a rush!"
"What I meant is, I won't allow her to 'add the premium she wanted to the shipping fee'. Unless the overall transportation cost of CHE-02 rises, or that she could provide higher-quality goods and keep the increase within an acceptable margin for us. Besides... Miss Makiatto—"
"I see, those pebbles, right?"
After avoiding another hazard, Miss Makiatto and I exchanged a knowing smile. The bumpy section of the road was finally over.
"Let's stop for a moment and adjust the straps. Once we get past the slope ahead, there will be public transportation."

"Finally, it's over! Don't let me find that gravel truck!" Miss Makiatto tightened the packing strap and hooked it back onto the cart chassis. "What were you about to say?"
"Nothing..." I held my remarks regarding cost control and how the other party accepted this partnership due to Zucchero's stability; I didn't want to remind Miss Makiatto of what just happened and upset her again.
"Hmm." Miss Makiatto nodded. "I didn't expect Centaureissi to get the hang of running a business so quickly... to the point even Springfield looks so relaxed. Hmph."
"It's all thanks to you, Miss Makiatto. I'm really grateful."
"...Me?"
"Yes, without your initial guidance and enlightenment, I would still be lost and unable to adapt to my current life. I wouldn't have been able to sort out my thoughts and get back to my best after the incident caused by Farkas."
"W-Who guided you..."
Miss Makiatto turned her head away abruptly as if she intended to admire the artificial farm on the outskirts of the satellite city.

After a while, she looked ahead and said to me in a murmur:
"Centaureissi, your ability to adapt has nothing to do with what I said... Like dealing with that dishonest profiteer just now, or welcoming guests in the café, Centaureissi, you did all that on your own... So... t-there’s no need to thank me..."
"But had Miss Makiatto not—"
"Ah—stop, stop, stop! That's enough!" Miss Makiatto suddenly covered her ears and squatted down.
"Sorry, did I say something wrong?"
"No, no... It's just that I've always found it hard to handle your honest and straightforward gratitude!" Miss Makiatto remained quiet for a few seconds and released her hands from her ears. "Centaureissi... You know, I envy you sometimes..."
"Envy? Me?"

I was surprised, thinking the noise from the cart was somehow too loud that it made me mishear her.
"You can just say out loud whatever comes to mind... I can't do that... Even though I've already made contact with that person, I can't even muster the courage to greet them casually..."
From my perspective, I could see that Miss Makiatto's ears were red... She must be referring to the Commander. Indeed, I've always seen her hesitating in front of the comm terminal in the café; constantly deleting and revising her messages, only to send out texts purely related to the Commander's tasks by the end.

"...I see." I crouched down and saw the disappointment and grievance on her face. Although I can't fully grasp her current feelings, the bitterness and longing when thinking about the Commander... should be similar to mine.
"Miss Makiatto, I do not think straightforward words are the only way to convey sincerity. I believe if you keep expressing yourself the way you do now, those who know you well enough will understand your thoughts right away."
"...Really?"
"Of course, don't worry." I smiled and reassured her, "Just like how I eventually understood what you meant by 'life is a battlefield,' the Commander will surely understand your yearning for them."

Beep——!
That was the first time it felt like I could hear a sound through my vision module. Miss Makiatto's face instantly turned red like a boiling kettle as she sprang off the ground.
"Wh-wh-who's missing that idiot! Nonsense! Ridiculous!" Miss Makiatto howled and rushed forward with the cart loaded with heavy goods.
"Miss Makiatto, please be careful!" I hastened my pace and ran alongside her towards our life and battlefield of the moment.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: MBV Elmo
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sturmgewehr 36
Mission ID: N/A
Time: █/█/20██
Status: N/A

Pop-pop-pop-!
The sound of the hand-pulled party poppers echoed in the room, and two petite figures stepped onto the stage amid cheers.
"Hey everyone~ It's Sharkry time! Sharkry has been preparing for today's performance for a whole month, and the upcoming songs were specially written for today~ Hope you all enjoy it! ♥ Let's start the music! Please focus the lights on the super cute Sharkry!"
"Hey? You forgot to introduce Vepley!"
"Who cares about you!"
With the prelude over, the two Dolls began their performance.

"Miss Makiatto, can you widen the first row of lights a bit?"
"Sure."
A brief reply came through the comms channel, and colorful lights illuminated the banner for the Zucchero welcome party.
"Manager, the mechanism Miss Sharkry requested—"
"It's all set up, don't worry."
"Got it. Please activate the mechanism at the agreed time."

I surveyed the surroundings once more, ensuring the smooth progression of the welcome party.
The room where the welcome party was held was neither large nor very lavishly decorated.
A celebration of this scale was only seen when Miss Sharkry released a new single back when she was at Zucchero—at least that was how Miss Sharkry explained it. It was also her who supplied all these insights about Zucchero.
But I doubt anybody present—human or Doll—cared much about that.

I tried my best to stay calm in order to handle any potential emergencies and ensure the welcome party goes smoothly.
But my neural cloud refused to comply and kept racing uncontrollably. I felt like the colorful confetti floating in the air, all light and fluttery.
I should be keeping an eye on every participant at this welcome party—that's my duty, but my attention was repeatedly drawn to one particular guest no matter how hard I tried to focus...
Luckily, they're standing right next to me, otherwise... following this figure and maintaining the restraint of a maid might take up all my computational power.

"Commander..." I spoke, but my voice sounded like someone else's to my own ears, "I've already reminded Miss Mayling to keep the indoor performances below the current decibel level from now on, so it won't damage your hearing anymore."
"Right, thanks to you, my ears can finally catch a break today. Still, this was supposed to be a welcome party for Zucchero, but we ended up troubling you with the preparations."
"This is our area of expertise, it's only right for us to handle it..."
"But seriously, have you really thought this through?" The Commander paused, "Do you really want to give up your peaceful life in the Green Zone and move to the contamination zone? You've put a lot of effort into running Zucchero up till now, haven't you?"

"According to the manager, although Zucchero has officially joined the ranks of the Elmo and become the Zucchero Squad, the business is still up and running. Now, with the revenue from the café and the intel trade, we can afford to hire civilian Dolls to watch the store, so most of the time we just need to supervise remotely.
"As for the intelligence network... we'll keep maintaining it to boost the Elmo's intelligence capabilities. We can use the Elmo's communication system to relay messages and commissions. Later on, when we expand, we can even take on commissions from the contaminated zones and gather intelligence there...
"The manager says that the Elmo has higher combat capabilities than the Zucchero of old, so we can handle tougher commissions in greater numbers. There’s no need to worry about rising costs."

"Wow, Springfield is planning to use me as a cash cow, huh?"
"No, that's not what I meant! We just want to be of better help to you and support the Elmo..."
A familiar laugh interrupted my awkwardness.
"You haven't changed at all, Centaureissi. Don't worry, I didn't mean that either. Besides, supporting the Elmo's Zucchero Squad naturally benefits the Elmo. With your help in gathering intel, I feel much more at ease... B.R.I.E.F.'s environmental data is still pretty unreliable."

"Then I'll be counting on you, Commander," The manager's voice came from the right.
"Manager?" I was a bit surprised to see Manager Springfield. I quickly checked the stage; Miss Sharkry and Miss Vepley were only halfway through their performance, and the surprise mechanism that Miss Sharkry had arranged shouldn't have been triggered yet.
Did they change the rundown last minute...?
Manager Springfield seemed to notice my concern and smiled, saying, "Andoris kindly took over for me, and Klukai is over there too. Originally, Belka wanted to take over for Makiatto, but..."
The manager gave the Commander an amused smile.
"Is she avoiding me? Ever since we’ve reconnected, she's been sneaking around and hiding from me. What's going on?" The Commander seemed a bit puzzled.
"Commander, Miss Makiatto is just feeling a bit shy, please give her some more time."
"But she keeps glancing this way even though she's working on the lights."
"Huh?"

That does sound like something Miss Makiatto would do, but the Commander might not understand her feelings, so I tried to explain it again—
"Miss Makiatto is just self-conscious around you because she cares a great deal about you."

Although still puzzled, the Commander seemed to have accepted the explanation.
"Commander, would you like to try some snacks? Today's selection features Zucchero's signature dishes."
Springfield started introducing the dishes on the table to the Commander, while I went to fetch the coffee pot and cups.
Holding the tray, I didn't join the conversation again but hung back in my usual spot—my preferred spot which allows me to better observe and promptly respond to others' needs.
Looking at the Commander's back, I felt a long-lost sense of tranquility.

When I was with Griffin, I often observed the Commander from behind just like this.
After all this time, we finally got to officially join the Elmo and continue following them.
Once again, I checked the reports in my neural cloud, which documented everything that I had experienced during our years apart—that I would tell the Commander all about if I ever got the chance.

"Centaureissi, why are you so quiet?" Springfield and the Commander turned around.
"I was just preparing the coffee, Commander. Also, it's almost dinner time. Do you need me to prepare anything else?"
Hearing my question, the Commander paused for a moment and replied, "We all operate according to a shift roster onboard the Elmo. Everyone can arrange their own free time, so you don't have to constantly stand behind me, waiting for orders."
"Huh...?" My eyes widened in disbelief. I even had to replay the Commander's words spoken barely two seconds ago in my mind to make sure I heard it correctly.
"Oh, Commander..." Manager Springfield exclaimed softly, not really knowing what to say.

The performance on stage continued, but the cheerful and lively tune suddenly became jarring.
I steadied my nerves a bit. "Commander, my housekeeping skills are impeccable. Your living habits... may have changed over the years, but I can adapt quickly and keep up with your pace. Please allow me to stand behind you; I can definitely take care of you just like I used to—"
"I'm not questioning your ability, Centaureissi. It's just that seeing as you're also an official member of the Elmo's crew, you don't have to stand behind me and work as a maid all the time. You can do more of what you want. For example... uh, come over and have a chat?"
"..."

Pop—the performance on stage reached its climax, and a huge balloon filled with pieces of paper slowly descended and then burst. The bits of paper had everyone's names written on them.
I watched as a glittery piece of paper landed quietly on the Commander's shoulder. "Centaureissi"—it had my name on it. At that moment, I made a decision.
"Commander, as an official member of the Elmo's crew, please allow me to refuse. However..." I took a step forward, and I now stood next to them.
I gave the Commander a smile, "As a professional maid, I will gladly oblige."

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: MBV Elmo
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sturmgewehr 36
Mission ID: N/A
Time: █/█/20██
Status: N/A

Today, I'm in charge of cleaning and preparing breakfast on the Elmo.
At 7:30 a.m., I finish the basic cleaning tasks for the Elmo.
After that, I proceed to the lounge and prepare a few servings of hot breakfast, accompanied by a drink called "soy milk".
I found the recipe in the database after Miss Mayling brought this drink up in conversation. It was great that the final product received unanimous praise from Master, Miss Mayling, and Miss Helena.
Additionally, I prepare cold cuts, snacks, coffee beans, tea bags, and other foods, and set them up with tableware to complete a small buffet bar.

At my request, I also take care of the daily lives of the Elmo crew, which is now my most important job and allows me to be in Master's company again.
It's like being back at Griffin—the Griffin with Master still around, except my battlefield is no longer always on the frontlines.
Even though Master told me I don't need to keep up the duties of maid, I believe taking good care of Elmo is my duty as a professional maid—
No. I do have other, more personal, almost "selfish" reasons. After all, there are many Dolls on Elmo who are skilled in combat, but when it comes to daily life, I can do better than anyone else.

"Waaah—Centaureissi!"
Just as I'm about to head to the dorm to wake Master up, a small figure rushes in and stops right in front of me.
"Miss Mechty?" I halt my steps, "Good morning, is there anything wrong?"
"Ahhhhh!" Miss Mechty clutches her head. "Please help me, only you can help me, Centaureissi!"
"Please calm down, what happened?"
Mechty grabs my sleeve and pulls me towards the dorm.
"My sleeping suit—my custom, all-terrain, self-adaptive sleep suit! It's missing!"

After asking Miss Colphne, who came over after hearing the noise, to wake up Master for me, I follow Miss Mechty to her dorm.
Eventually, Miss Mayling and several other Dolls also show up at the dorm door one after another for some reason. Even Master arrives after being woken up by Miss Colphne. Under everyone's eager gaze, I manage to locate the individual pieces of Miss Mechty's sleeping suit under the mattress, in the flowerpot, deep in the utility cabinet, and finally, sandwiched between the sofa cover and cushion.
In that moment, applause erupts from the crowd at the door.
"Wow—Centaureissi is really good at finding things~"
"Yes! Last time, I lost one of my fitter gloves, and it was Centaureissi who helped me pull it out from the gap in the vector engine's casing."
"...How did it fall in there? Anyway, ever since Centaureissi’s arrival, life has indeed been much easier."
I stand up and salute Master, who is leaning against the door frame.
"Helping everyone is my duty as a maid."

Behind me, Miss Mechty is lying on the ground, holding the sleeping suit she had once lost but now rediscovered. She seems exhausted, letting out a soft voice, "Oh... my precious..."
I turn around and help her up from the ground, then tidy up her clothes.
"Miss Mechty, if you wish to hide something, please be careful not to accidentally overwrite the location record in your neural cloud. It would be a shame if your beloved belongings get lost that way."
"I'm so glad we found it in the end. Centaureissi, I really don't know how to thank you." She lets out a sniffle, "Phew... I waited so long to buy this sleeping suit... Ah... Just holding it makes me sleepy..."
Miss Mechty quickly enters sleep mode.

"Good that we're able to retrieve something you cherish. Everyone—time go back to your post, sigh... I also need to get back to work." Saying this, Master still leans against the door instead of heading towards the ops room.
"Uh, Centaureissi? Why are you staring at me... Do I have soy milk on my face?"
I shake my head and smile.
"No, Master. Please start working as soon as possible."

Yes, Master, it's truly great to be able to retrieve something you cherish.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Response Combat Team Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sturmgewehr 36
Mission ID: N/A
Time: █/█/20██
Status: N/A


Bright moonlight shines in through the window. Even in the unlit ops room, my vision module is able to clearly see the Commander's sleeping face.

It's already late at night. I had finished maintenance on my frame and was hoping to continue with cleaning the ops room when I saw Master there, sleeping on the sofa in the corner.
Hmm... Master's breathing is even, and their heartbeat is steady. Seems like Master’s sleeping well, though their fingers are kind of pale—is it the cold?

I was about to get a blanket when Master's eyes suddenly opened.
Master looked at me blankly for two seconds: "Oh... Centaureissi, what are you doing here?"
"Master, I had just finished my frame maintenance and was coming over to continue cleaning up the ops room."

I grabbed a blanket and covered Master with it, gesturing to the slightly messy floor.
"You can just continue tomorrow if you want." Master closed their eyes again and rubbed them with the back of their hands. "It's not like this cleanup is a mission report that’s due tomorrow, so it's fine if it gets delayed a little."

I noticed the portable terminal next to Master. The cursor on the report document's editing interface was blinking, with only a few words having been typed.
Based on the mission's serial number, this seems to be the mission that Master and Leader Groza were on the day before yesterday. They had just returned to the Elmo this afternoon.
It didn't seem like an easy mission.
I shook my head at Master and went back to the previous topic.
"What’s planned for today should be finished today."
Master puts down their hands and smiled bitterly: "That's so Centaureissi."
"Of course, Master's tasks have a higher priority."

I picked up the portable terminal and sat next to Master.
"Leader Groza should have already uploaded the mission briefing. I'll draft a rough version based on that, so you'll only need to review and edit it."
Having followed Master for many years, I believed I could help ease their burden in this matter.
"Ah, um..." Master, who had just woken up, wasn't as quick to respond as usual. "Well, okay, then I'll leave it to you, Centaureissi..."
Master ran their hands through their messy hair.
"Oh, right, let me help you organize your stuff."
"No need, I'll handle it later. You should take a rest."
"I feel quite bad, you're already helping me with work..."
Ignoring my protests, Master stood up and walked towards the pile of clutter on the floor.
As a dutiful maid, I should have stopped Master, but when Master started tidying up the ops room, I could not say a word—for a warm, uplifting emotion spread through my neural cloud.
What is this?
I seem... to want Master to stay here with me a bit longer.
So, I lowered my head and started working on the paperwork.

Things were silent for quite a long time.
I looked up and saw Master standing in front of a pile of clutter, looking a little embarrassed.
"...I always feel like these are still being used, so it would be a hassle if I couldn't find them easily after putting them away..."
"Then leave it to me. I'll make a record of where all the items are for you. Next, you should—"
"I'm not going to have you work alone here while I go off and rest."
Master immediately interrupted my sentence. I nodded, as this response was within my expectations. So, I placed the terminal in front of Master.
"Good timing, the draft is almost done. I'll leave the rest to you, Master. I'll finish cleaning the ops room as soon as possible."

I went to the pile of debris and started sorting everything out.
I looked up and saw Master's back. They were looking at the terminal with a serious expression, making occasional adjustments.
These moments we share make me really happy.
So, let's stay like this for a little while longer.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Rock and Roll Tomato

Summary

This story is linked to Dusty Memories#Heart of the Dishes.

During Griffin & Kryuger's restructuring, ^SG SPAS-12SPAS-12SPAS-12 initially applied to stay at the PMC, but after she hears ^RF SpringfieldSpringfieldSpringfield, ^AR Type 95Type 95Type 95, ^AR K2K2K2 and ^RF G28G28G28 talk about their own dreams, she realizes that she can choose a life beyond her original function as a T-Doll and wants to become a chef to pursue her love of food. However, she realizes during her assessments at multiple restaurants that following the recipes won't land her a job. In the end, she's only accepted as a waitress at the Caldo Italian Chain Restaurant in MEL-07. Nevertheless, she readily gives up her Fire Control Core and returns to the name Sabrina to mark the end of her life as a T-Doll.

Chef Caldo eventually trusts her enough to upgrade her to kitchen assistant, but the cooks still won't taste-test Sabrina's dishes, even though the pictures she shared on social medias got good reactions. One day, Sabrina overhears that her restaurant chain is about to close because they can't procure the key ingredient of their signature dish, Operino tomatoes, due to a dangerous ELID creature disrupting transport routes. Reviewing her old posts, Sabrina realizes that unlike her, who only considered slight differences in a dish as an error margin, humans were paying close attention to minute changes. Through trial and error and calculations, she ends up finding a way to use a different kind of tomatoes with slight adjustments to the cooking to replicate the original taste of the dish, saving the restaurant.

Sabrina eventually becomes a gourmet streamer as a second job, cooking a variety of dishes live to discovers more ways to obtain the same taste, and come up with her own creative cooking.

Journal Entry 1

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Caldo Italian Chain Restaurant, District D5, Satellite City MEL-07
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sportivo Calibro 12
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"Put the used dishes into the automatic dishwasher... Activate the environmental cleansing system... And finally...
"Access granted... Unit No. 004... About to enter safe mode... Complete."
Done!
As the last light in the restaurant went out, I finished my work for the day and stepped out of the door of the "Caldo Italian Restaurant". The time now was... 11:43 p.m.
This was a bustling commercial district. The buildings that were aglow with neon lights just a short while ago had already quieted down. There were few pedestrians on the once-lively streets, while only a couple of cars were on the streets, racing past and vanishing in a flash
It was late now, and the city was gradually entering a state of slumber.
However Sabrina's night was only beginning! I had important plans for tonight, so I had to hurry.
I ran towards the nearby bus stop.

After getting off the bus, I was back at the residential area on the outskirts of the city. The high-rise buildings here were as densely-packed as weeds, and their interiors were neatly divided into "tofu block" apartments.
The last bus carried commuters from the train station back to here. The people getting off the bus looked tired. They walked along the narrow paths like zombies and then silently disappeared into the "tofu blocks" without a sound.
I heard the chefs at the restaurant mention that this city was built on a "primary Green Zone" or something. Unlike the carefully designed satellite cities, this place was densely populated and land was at a premium. Most people had to squeeze into residential areas like these.
I lived here too, but actually... I really wanted to live in a super spacious house with a large kitchen filled with all kinds of delicious food. Well... as long as I worked harder now, it would come true one day.
I quickened my pace and joined the crowd.
The days of fighting in Griffin seemed like they were far in the past. I'd completely adapted to life in this satellite city.

Phew... the beeping "overweight" alarm finally went silent after I stepped out of the elevator. Ugh... Even though the elevator's load capacity had been greatly increased through secret modifications from yours truly, I couldn't do anything about the alarm program...
Fortunately, my neighbors were really out of it when they got off work and didn't seem to care about the alarm. Though it was still a little embarrassing... I was finally home!

Apart from a bed, the rest of the room was crammed with pots, pans, and all sorts of cooking utensils. I had tried my best to turn it into a fully functional kitchen, despite the small space available— of course, that meant I had to sacrifice some unnecessary amenities.
Somewhere, an alarm clock started beeping. Oh no, I was late!
I quickly tidied up the room and logged onto the "MEL-07 Integrated Social Network Services Platform." It was an official forum provided by the city for residents to chat anonymously.
Video display was good, audio input was good, lighting... no problem.
After making sure everything was set, I started the live stream.

"Tadaaah, good evening everyone, this is Sabrina12! Welcome to "Sabrina's Midnight Diner". Sorry to keep you all waiting, I got off work a bit late today."
There were already quite a few viewers waiting in the live chat.
"How dare they make our Rina work overtime! Come on lads, we'll string that heartless boss up from the streetlamps!"
"We can forgive you since Rina is doing an extra stream today."
"I can't wait for today's 'Hell's Recipe'!"
That's right— outside of work, I'm a gourmet streamer.
Usually, I upload some food tasting or cooking videos, and I also do a couple of livestreams every week. Although I'm not as popular as the top streamers, I've managed to gather quite a few fans.

"So today, I'm going to try out a new dish live for everyone. Look over here, these are the giant squids I just bought."
I used a picture to cover up part of the live feed, then quickly unloaded the ingredients I had bought earlier and stored inside my frame.
Even though my frame's storage function wasn't a secret, it was better not to show the actual process to the viewers.
"Alright! All the ingredients we need for today are here."
Seeing the small mountain of ingredients piled up on the table, I secretly breathed a sigh of relief—
So that was why the elevator alarm went off earlier, it definitely wasn't because my frame was overweight!
"There it is! It's Sabrina's 'black hole frame'!"
"It's not a black hole, it's just a normal frame modification."
I grabbed a few big, plump squids from the pile of ingredients and held them up to the camera.
"Aren't they huge? It's rare to find squids this big these days! So today, I'm going to make a dish using squid."
"First, we'll be preparing the squid. Let's start by cleaning it"
"To keep the squid's natural flavor, we'll just remove the cartilage and guts, like this."
I handled the ingredients as carefully as possible, trying to avoid any accidents, like the time I tore a lamb apart too forcefully and turned a "whole roasted lamb" into a "half roasted lamb".
The video equipment recorded the entire process of me making each dish. Watching the recordings regularly has become a habit of mine. This practice has helped me through tough times and allowed me to live the life I have now.
"After the squid is prepped, we'll wash the other ingredients. This time, the main ingredients are tomatoes, onions, sausages, and carrots."
"We'll slice the onions, cut the carrots into chunks, and slice the sausages for later."

"Here it is, here it is, she's starting to get serious"
"Hahaha, can't wait for what's next!"
Hmph, you won't be able to look down on me anymore once I nail the signature dish "slow-cooked squid" from "Serenite Restaurant".
I ignored the teasing in the comments comments and continued following the pre-calculated steps.
"Now we add olive oil to the pot, then the minced meat I prepped yesterday, along with some cheese, and then toss in the side dishes we just prepared."
"Next, the key ingredient— a ton of tomatoes! Throw them in whole and let them stew to release the juices."
"Now that the aroma of the broth is coming through, the last step is to add the seasoning, and then put in the squid to stew until it's done."

"Slow-cooked squid": as the name implied, the usual way of preparing it was to put the squid in and simmer it for over an hour.
But based on my analysis and calculations, you could achieve the same result in just 10 minutes by using these ingredients and raising the simmering temperature by 30 degrees.

"It's been 10 minutes now. Time to witness the moment of truth!"
As I saw the chat fill up with "here it comes" and other such comments, I adjusted the camera to make sure the whole pot was in view, unwilling to disappoint them.
This time, it would definitely work!
"Ahem, please don't look away, I'm about to lift the lid!"

"Wow, that's a lot of steam! Whew—"

The mist-like steam gradually dispersed, revealing several large squids standing in the center of the pot. Bubbles rose and burst in the boiling red broth, causing the squid tentacles to sway left and right, which was kind of creepy.
Ugh, this didn't look like what I saw in the restaurant.
The live stream seemed just as shocked by this scene. There was a moment of silence, and no one commented.
"Ahaha, well, it's quite appetizing... in a way. Now, let's see how it tastes," I tried to play it off nonchalantly, then began lating it in preparation for the taste-testing segment.
At this point, the viewers in the live stream seemed to snap out of it, flooding the chat with comments like "Hell's cuisine", "kek", and "It was bound to happen."
Errr... that was fine! While the appearance of food was important, taste was what really mattered. Deliciousness is justice!

I pretended not to see those comments and moved on to the next part of the live stream—the taste testing.
As the first bite of the dish entered my mouth, my gustatory module activated. "Hmm, the squid is cooked just right, crispy and chewy." I took another bite. "Not bad, the broth is rich and flavorful." Yet another bite. "The squid's own crisp texture combined with the rich tomato broth is perfect!"
Huh? Is it all gone already? Bite after bite, before I knew it, the whole pot of food in front of me was gone.
Hmm... The dish tasted great, but the difference from the "slow-cooked squid" at the "Serenite Restaurant" was beyond a negligible margin.
Still, it tasted pretty good. From the perspective of a trial dish, that counted as a success, right?
I raised the empty plate with both hands and held it up by the left side of my face like a bright smile. That was my trademark.
"Today's trial run of Sabrina's dish was a great success!"
The screen of the live stream was instantly flooded with "???"
I checked the time; it was almost 2 a.m.
Whatever! Time to move on to the final segment!

"It's getting late now, so now let's move on to the final segment, which is— All About Rina! Ask me anything you want to know!"
I clapped my hands to grab the audience's attention back, and the screen started filling up with questions.
"Rinarina, why do Dolls need to eat?"
"Hmm, I've answered this before. Dolls don't actually need to eat, you know? But I love tasty food, so I specially installed a gastral module into myself. This way, I can eat and enjoy the flavors."
"Will Dolls get fat if they eat too much?"
"No way! Do I look fat to you?"
I was casually answering questions in the comment section when a new comment popped up.
"So are you a food vlogger, Rina?"

Why?

Well... that's a long story.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 2

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Griffin & Kryuger Military Contracting and Security Consulting Services Company Border Surveillance Corps
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sportivo Calibro 12
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

The notice about Griffin's upcoming reorganization spread like a chicken nugget covered in flour thrown into hot oil, exploding among the Dolls with a "boom," and everyone kept talking about it.
"Weapons will eventually be upgraded, and it looks like now is that time."
"Are we... are we being abandoned...? What will happen to us after this?"
"Don't worry about it, FN49. Griffin T-Dolls will have no trouble finding work. Besides, didn't Helian say she could arrange something for us? Those who want to keep fighting can apply to stay with Griffin, and those who don't want to fight anymore can apply to work in the Green Zone... although there are very few spots available."
"Well... I haven't decided yet. What about you, SPAS-12?"
What to do... From what they're saying, it sounds like we can stay with Griffin if we want to keep fighting.
Since I was created, I've been fighting for Griffin as a T-Doll, and life as a T-Doll hasn't been bad so far.
In that case, I'll just stay. Even though I've heard there might be some unexpected situations, how does that saying go... Right! We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.
Now that I've made up my mind, I should hurry up and finish the application to stay and submit it to Helian.

"Helian's office should be this way... right?"
Ugh... It's just a personnel restructuring, why do they have to change the office location too?
I was looking for directions on the new map when a scent wafted over.
Hmm? What a nice smell. This is the Griffin Café. Who's here at this time?
The usually bustling café was now deserted, with bags scattered everywhere. There was a figure behind the bar, busy with something. The clutter on the bar made it hard to see who it was, so I stopped and walked over.
Hearing my footsteps, the figure behind the bar looked up at me—it was Springfield.
"SPAS-12, what brings you here?"
"I'm going to submit my application to stay to Helian, and I just happened to pass by. What about you, Springfield? What are you doing here?"
"I was planning to take one last look at the café to see if there was anything I could help clean up. I happened to see half a bag of unused coffee beans, so I thought I'd make a few cups of coffee and bring them to the others."
"Oh, I see. Let me help you!"
"Are you sure? Don't you have to submit your application to Helian?"
"It's fine. There's still plenty of time before the deadline."

I walked behind the bar, took the coffee grinder from Springfield, and started to grind the beans absent-mindedly.
When Springfield said she was taking one last look at the café, did she mean she was planning to leave Griffin?
No point in overthinking it. I might as well just ask her directly.

"Are you leaving Griffin then?"
"Yeah, my work here is wrapping up. I've always wanted to open a café, and now seems like the perfect time."
"Why? Aren't you happy being a T-Doll?"
"It's not that. Everything at Griffin is great, but this is a rare opportunity to try living according to my own interests and dreams."
"Interests and dreams? Springfield's interest and dream are to open a café?"
"Yeah, it's a small dream, nothing ambitious. What about you, SPAS-12?"

Me?
My... interests and dreams...

I couldn't help but stop grinding the coffee beans and fell into deep thought.
Besides fighting as a T-Doll, is there another path? I'd never really thought about it.
Living according to my own interests and desires... Is that an option too?
Speaking of my interests and desires...
I stared at the packed kitchen utensils on the counter in a daze.
Still waiting for my answer, Springfield turned her head to look at me and noticed my distraction, but she didn't say anything and just started making coffee on her own.
Kitchen utensils? Yeah, food. I love food. I really love food.
Can food be considered an interest and dream?

"Springfield, SPAS-12, what are you doing here?"
Type 95's arrival interrupted my thoughts. With a "snap", I accidentally pulled off the grinder's handle.
"Type 95? We were just making cof... Springfield, you're finished with the coffee ready?! Uh, this grinder... I'm sorry."
"Hehe, it's okay. Type 95, we're just tidying up the café together."
"Oh, I see. Need any help?"

After submitting their reports to Helian, the Dolls passed by the café one after another and joined our packing crew.
During this time, everyone was thinking about their future. Some who had jobs before joining Griffin quickly came up with their own ideas, and our conversation naturally shifted to our plans for the future.
"I was too busy with all kinds of missions before, but I think now is the perfect time for me to pick up the guzheng again."
"Hehe, you and I think alike! I also want to support myself by dancing and set an example for the younger ones!"
"Ah—then I'll stick close to my sister!"
Everyone has their own plans. Type 95 loves music, so she wants to be a musician; K2 is interested in dancing, so she wants to be a dancer; Gr G28 likes... uh... 416, so her wish is to team up with 416.
As for me... I love food, so should I cook?
...Oh, a chef!
Why don't... I become a chef?! That way, I can have food anytime, anywhere, and also make money to maintain my eating module. It's a win-win!
"I've decided!" I slammed the table, interrupting the chattering Dolls around me.
"Whoa, SPAS-12, what the heck? What's with the sudden yelp?! Uwaa... you left a deep handprint on the table."
"I want to be a chef! I want to eat all the delicious food in the world!" I blurted out my decision without thinking.
"Pfft... hahaha! That's so you, SPAS-12," The Dolls burst into laughter at my response, except for Springfield, who looked at me thoughtfully.

After that, the café was filled with bursts of laughter. We couldn't predict what would happen in the future, and today's meeting might be the last time we see each other—but at least, the beautiful vision of the future at this moment is enough to drive us forward.
After packing up everything in the café, we said our final goodbyes. The Dolls slowly dispersed, leaving just Springfield and me. Now that I'd made my decision, I should go report to Helian.
Just as I was about to leave, Springfield called out to me.
"SPAS-12, I still have a cup of coffee that hasn't been delivered. Could you take it to Helian for me? I need to finish the final inventory check and can't get away right now."
"No problem, I've got it!"

Standing in Helian's office, I handed her my resignation letter along with a cup of coffee.
"Thanks. Did Springfield ask you to bring me this coffee?"
Although I didn't understand why Helian specifically confirmed who gave the coffee, I still nodded.
Helian sighed, set the coffee aside, and carefully read my resignation letter.
"...I see. Do you have any plans for what you'll do next?"
"I want to be a chef! A top chef!"
"Why?"
"Uh... it's my passion... and my dream?"
"Are you sure about this?"
"I've figured it out! Since food is my favorite thing, why don't I just... um... pursue it?"
"And I've done my research. A chef's salary can totally cover the basic maintenance costs for a Doll."
"I believe with my love for food, I can definitely become a great chef!"

Helian stared at me evenly, as if trying to read my neural cloud. After ten seconds, Helian looked down to shuffle some documents around and said, "I understand. I'll do my best to liaise with the government and get you placed in a stable satellite city."
"Yes! Helian! Thank you!"
It won't be long before I can become a chef! Then, I can cook and eat at the same time, make a dish and eat it, and then repeat the next day...
Just thinking about it makes me happy!

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 3

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Caldo Italian Chain Restaurant, District D5, Satellite City MEL-07
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sportivo Calibro 12
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

Gulp—
Even though it was pointless, I still dryly cleared my throat and swallowed some non-existent saliva.
In front of me were five restaurant chefs in white uniforms; along with a big slab of frozen beef. The way the chefs were eyeing me made me feel like I was standing in a military court, and instead of frozen beef, I was facing enemy automatons.
My neural processing speed dropped by 70%, making my movements stiffer than ever.

Thanks to Helian's arrangement, I've been here for over ten days now.
During this time, my affiliation has been temporarily registered with a small company that specializes in this kind of business, and it cost me a lot of money.
I need to find a job quickly and get my affiliation transferred!

I'm currently in a satellite city around Melitopol, which is set to be named MEL-07 in the future. As the most newly-constructed city, it has a relatively pleasant climate and abundant resources, so delicacies from all over are gathered here. I heard that even people from Melitopol frequently visit just to get a taste of fresh produce.
And here I am, standing in an elegant high-end restaurant on the busiest street in the city, undergoing a job assessment—preparing bœuf bourguignon.
Now, a serious problem is staring me in the face.
"This beef... hasn't been marinated in red wine beforehand..."
The recipe from my neural cloud clearly states that you need to "put the beef in red wine, add a bundle of spices, marinate for 12 hours, drain, and then stir-fry with olive oil for 30 seconds..."
Starting to marinate the beef now... is definitely too late.
The interviewers are watching me... This is the 7th restaurant I've interviewed at. Am I going to fail again?
No, no, calm down and pull yourself together.
Alright... Let's start with stir-frying. According to the analysis, adding red wine in the later steps can have a similar seasoning effect.
Exactly, just like carrying out a mission, there are always unexpected surprises on the battlefield. As long as the mishaps in the previous stage don't affect the next stage of the mission, the final operation will always succeed.
"... According to the recipe... Stir-fry for 30 seconds."
"Then add red wine. According to the recipe, 200 grams of beef needs 500 grams of red wine..."
After carefully completing all the steps, I picked up a small piece of beef to taste. The moment the beef entered my mouth, the ingredient analysis program kicked in.
Alright! No problem. Compared to the pre-stored data, the ingredients match perfectly, and the appearance is spot on.
Done! This time I can definitely pass the test!

However, despite my confidence, when the interviewer took a sip of the soup and silently put down the spoon, I knew I had failed again.
"Look, it's that Doll again. I've seen her at other places before..."
Walking out of the interview room, the other interviewees' pointing and whispering didn't affect me at all anymore. It's not that I'm particularly strong, it's just—I'm used to it.
Anyway, they always say things like, Dolls can only mechanically follow recipes, they should just go to farms and mix feed for livestock or something...
What's wrong with cooking by the book? If humans have created recipes, it means they work!
To me, they're the crystallization of human creativity and wisdom!
Well... it's true that different chefs might make the same dish taste slightly different, but... they're still following their own recipes... right?
Could it be... that the recipes I found aren't good enough? Or am I just not creative enough?

After leaving the restaurant, I searched online for various recipes and tried to add some "creativity" to them. But every time I did this, my neural cloud would throw up an error message, and I could only stand there in front of the stove, unable to move on for a while.
Creativity...
"Do you even know how to cook?! This is a steak! What do you mean by turning the steak into mush? What are the customers supposed to eat?" In my neural record, the last interviewer stood up and yelled as soon as I started handling the ingredients.

"Ha... I want to learn precisely because I don't know how to do it..." Sitting on a bench by the roadside, I scratched my head in confusion, checked my account balance, and almost had a meltdown. "I-I shouldn't have eaten so much, and I shouldn't have eaten at so many places... But this is the path of a foodie, I even made a ranking list of delicious food tasting..."
But even as I said this, the rational part of me knew this was just useless self-consolation. The most urgent thing is to find a job that can make ends meet as soon as possible... My system automatically pushed recruitment information from various PMCs to me. This is not difficult for a former Griffin Doll, but another thread in my mind keeps reminding me about my plan to become a chef.
"Ugh! You Dolls are such a pain in the ass!"

"Dolls are really great, please consider me!" I stood in front of the manager of the Caldo Italian Chain Restaurant, bowing and not moving an inch.
Yes, in the end, I still chose to continue on the path to becoming a chef, but... I need to take a slight detour.
"I don't charge much, and I won't get tired. I can handle both cleaning and serving. Plus, I have a fire-control core! If robbers show up, I can kick their butts with one shot!"
I took a peek at the manager. He looked awkwardly at the head chef—a tall and strong man who had just rejected me with his deep voice.
"Um... Oh yes, I'm very strong! Whether it's a large amount of ingredients or big equipment, I can move them all easily!"
"I'll do anything! Just let me stay! I really want to hone my cooking skills, and I really have no money left!" I sped up my neural processing, trying to find something to convince them.
"Pfft—" The manager couldn't help but laugh, and the head chef named Cosimo shook his head helplessly and turned to walk into the kitchen.
The slowly closing door signaled rejection, and my neural processing slowed back down to normal speed.

I failed again... This is the 53rd restaurant, and there are fewer and fewer places left on SPAS-12's delicious food tasting list...
"You'll earn an intern's salary, starting as a waiter, and you can't touch the stove without permission." The voice from the back kitchen made me stand up straight.
"I-I got the job?!" I looked at the manager in disbelief, and he kindly extended his hand.
"Yes, although it's not the 'kitchen helper' position from the job listing, and you'll have to remove your fire-control core. We're a restaurant, so we don't have the authority to employ T-Dolls. If you can accept that, Caldo welcomes you."

Remove my fire-control core...

Scenes from my days at Griffin flashed through my mind. I recalled my companions dreaming about the future in the café... and the bold words I said to Helian.
Since I had already set my heart on become a chef back then, it's time to leave my life as a T-Doll behind!

"No problem." I shook hands generously.
Even though the path is a bit winding... my neural cloud clearly tells me that I'm one step closer to the day I wear the chef's hat.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 4

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Caldo Italian Chain Restaurant, District D5, Satellite City MEL-07
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sportivo Calibro 12
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

This smell of tomatoes, celery, onions... Mr. Benito is making his "signature tomato risotto."
Mr. Giacomo turned on the cooling device. Hmm... he's making "tuna sauce beef," and the beef is already cooked.
Wait, no, it's only been 47 minutes and 32 seconds since Mr. Giacomo put the beef in the pot. He usually cooks beef for between 58 minutes and 2 seconds to 62 minutes and 31 seconds.
Did Mr. Giacomo get the time wrong? Should I remind him?

"Hey, Sabrina, sneaking in to pick up some cooking skills again?" Mr. Giacomo waved at me, and I quickly pulled my head back from the kitchen door... Oh well, since I've been caught...
"I-I've finished all my work! The tables and chairs are wiped down! The tableware and decorations are all set! I just... came to see if you need any help!" I glanced nervously at Chef Cosimo and sidled up to the stove from the other side of the room.
"Mr. Giacomo, this beef hasn't been cooked for a full hour yet."
"You've got a keen eye. This batch of beef came in later than it was supposed to, so it's not as fresh. To ensure it tastes the same as usual, we need to cook it for a bit less time."
"To ensure it tastes the same? Why do we need to do that?"
"If you have time to ask questions, you might as well do something useful." Chef Cosimo interrupted our conversation and handed over a box of celery.
"Cut these up, and remember to cut them shorter than usual."
"Huh? Didn't the guide say to cut them to 3 cm?"
"Celery is tougher this season, so cutting it shorter will ensure it tastes the same as before."
The same taste... Is it really that important? The green celery in my hand is indeed less juicy than usual, but...
Before I could ponder this further, Chef Cosimo's urging look pushed me to the prep table.
Alright, let's get to work!

Sabrina is the name I picked for myself when I joined Caldo, and I used it for a while before joining Griffin too. Since I've decided to say goodbye to the T-Dolls, it feels right to go back to who I was before becoming SPAS-12.
But, it's still a bit different...
Now, I want to become an amazing chef!

After finishing work and returning home in the evening, I tried to recreate both the "tuna sauce beef" cooked for 47 minutes and 32 seconds and the one cooked for 1 hour.
Hmm... they look pretty much the same, and they both taste... delicious!
Thinking back to what happened earlier today, I got even more confused.
In the end, the appearance and taste of the food only changed within a margin of error. In comparison, the "tuna sauce beef" cooked for 47 minutes isn't any better than the one cooked for 1 hour. What puzzles me even more is that humans have spent so much time and effort to find different methods, but the taste ends up being the same. Isn't that completely pointless? Why do they do this?
I just can't... understand it!

Oh, by the way, I heard that the city recently set up something called "Satellite City Integrated Social Network Service Platform." It's supposed to make it easier for everyone to share their experiences in the satellite city and get answers to their questions. Why not ask there?
First, you need to create an account—what should it be called? Sabrina?
No, that's taken!
How about—Sabrina12! Great! Success!
Next, type: "These are 'tuna sauce beef' dishes I cooked, one for 47 minutes and 32 seconds and one for 1 hour. Which one do you like better? Why?"
Add a picture, then send it!

Hmm? I got a reply so quickly.
"The dishes are very exquisite and look delicious."
This is the first time someone has recognized the dishes I made!
Seeing the comments pop up one by one, I was greatly encouraged, and my neural cloud was sizzling at high speeds, like popcorn chicken in hot oil.
I've decided! From today on, I'm going to upload dishes here every day!
But... it seems that no one told me which one they liked, and no one explained why... But if I post a few more times, someone will eventually answer!
And, as long as I keep doing this, my cooking skills will definitely improve, and it won't be long before I can reach the same level as the other chefs in the restaurant!

This idea is great, but...
Things have once again gone beyond my expectations—

"Mr. Benito, how's this 'meat-filled omelette'? I put a lot of effort into it!"
"Mr. Giacomo, come and try this 'Italian ravioli'... Hey? Don't walk away!"
"Chef Cosimo, could you give me some feedback on this 'braised veal'?"
Why is this happening?
These dishes have so many likes on the platform.
Why does everyone just shake their heads after tasting them?
What exactly is wrong?

No way! Sabrina can't just give up like this! I'm going to use my secret weapon!
This "carpaccio" is the most liked dish out of all the ones posted by "Sabrina12", and it will definitely impress the chef!

Holding the freshly made dish, I nervously looked around for Chef Cosimo.
"Where is he... I clearly heard the manager ask him to stay..."
As I walked near the back door, I heard voices.
Chef Cosimo is still here! The person opposite him must be the manager, right?
Chef Cosimo doesn't look very happy. Are they arguing?
I quietly turned the efficiency of the audio receiving module to the max and started eavesdropping on their conversation.

"We can't keep this up for much longer."
"Several branches in other satellite cities have already closed, and the main store is also in serious trouble."
"Is there anything else we can do?"
"You've seen the news about the dangerous creatures near the origin area. Even the city officials don't know what to do... We can't get Operino tomatoes at all, and I've tried every possible channel."

"Operino"? If I remember correctly, it's the key ingredient for our signature dish, "tomato soup risotto."
So that's why this dish has become limited recently... It's because we're running out of ingredients?

"Without that dish, the restaurant's reviews and customer traffic have dropped in no time. Things aren't looking good, and the restaurant can't afford to take any losses."
"Are you thinking about closing for a while?" Chef Cosimo's voice sounded very tired.
"That's what the head office wants. Besides, if the losses get worse, we can't handle the responsibility."
Closing for a while... I searched for information, trying to understand what this means in the human world.
Will Caldo... become Griffin? Mr. Giacomo, Mr. Benito, the manager, and even Chef Cosimo... Is everyone leaving?
No, no, no, I still have so much to learn, I haven't made dishes that satisfy them, I haven't found the answer, I still... I don't want to be separated from everyone!
"Anyway, let's find a time to announce this to everyone." The manager made a decision.

I stumbled out of the restaurant, and when my neural stability returned, I found myself lying at home.
I have to do something... before the restaurant closes for good, I have to do something!
The key issue... is the Operino tomatoes. If we can get them, the restaurant can keep running.
I kept calculating different ways to get the tomatoes, but none of the plans seemed ideal.
Without the fire-control core, even if I could use my T-Doll experience to make a successful round trip between the origin area and the satellite city, it would be tough to protect those fragile tomatoes from high-threat creatures.
What should I do... Sabrina, think of something, don't become just a useless food processing machine!
I angrily pounded my body with both hands, making a "bang bang" sound with each hit.
Wait... I think I've got an idea!
I jumped out of bed, gritted my teeth, and grabbed the wrench next to me.
That night, I didn't fire up the stove as usual. Instead, clinks and clangs echoed from my room throughout the night.

"Chef Cosimo, manager, I—"
The next morning, I rushed to the restaurant and shoved the door open, making it slam against the wall.
The loud noise drew everyone's attention to me, and around them were all the equipment that had been shut down and sealed.
Has the manager already announced it... But I won't let the restaurant close down!

"Everyone, hold on a moment. I have a solution. I won't let the restaurant close down!"
Although Chef Cosimo still looked serious, his expression was as gentle as possible: "Sabrina, I've spoken to a chef I know at another restaurant, and he's willing to take you in. You just pack up and go there tomorrow."
"No, Chef Cosimo, I'm serious!" I waved my hands, standing in front of Chef Cosimo, "I've made some lightweight modifications to myself, freeing up most of the space. Now I can store countless things in my body!"
To prove my words, I turned around and from an angle no one could see, I started pulling out various items from my body, one by one. Soon enough, a small mountain was piled up around me.
"With this feature, I can drive to the origin area to transport the tomatoes. Even if the goods on the truck get damaged, I can bring back what's in my body. Look, it can hold this much—at least half a month's worth! This way, if I make a few more trips, we can definitely hold out until the freight service is restored!"
Seeing the small mountain that was piled up, everyone seemed to have ignited hope.
"You already removed the fire-control core. That's too dangerous," the manager said, looking at me with concern.
"Even without it, I'm really strong! Look, manager!"
I walked over to the heaviest piece of equipment in the restaurant and lifted it above my head.
"Plus, I used to be a T-Doll with lots of combat experience. I can protect myself even without weapons! But, manager, you're right."
After putting down the equipment, I took out a T-Doll registration application from my body and handed it to the manager.
"Yesterday, I looked up the rules and found out that if I register as a civilian combat force, follow orders, and help with public security, I can keep my fire-control core and continue to operate as a T-Doll! And when the public security department doesn't need me, I can still work at the restaurant as a regular civilian Doll. I just need the restaurant to vouch for me and help submit the paperwork!"
"...Didn't you say you wanted to be a chef instead of a T-Doll?"
"There's no conflict! I checked, this city is really safe. The civilian forces are rarely deployed, so I'll still be at the restaurant a lot! I don't want to be separated from everyone here!"
Why is everyone still silent? Isn't this a good solution?
"I've already filled out the form, just need the manager to sign it! The approval process is quick, and the modification is fast too. Even with the fire-control core installed, I won't do anything that would hurt the restaurant!"

"That's not what he meant." Chef Cosimo, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up. He was the first to stand up and walked to the back kitchen to turn on the lights. "Thank you, Sabrina."
"Ah, well, you're welcome..."
Did the chef... agree?
"What are you all standing around for? Business hours are about to start! Manager, go sign and submit the application, and everyone else, come help with the prep!"

"Here we go!"
"Can this... really work?"
"Let's give it a shot. Sabrina seems pretty serious about it."
With the chef's order, everyone stood up, and the once lifeless restaurant came back to life.

A few days later, the government's approval for the application came through. After some adjustments, I became a T-Doll once again.
Today is the day to set off. I quickly packed the weapons and gear the manager prepared for me into my body.
"It's a bit scary, but Sabrina's modifications to her body are actually quite handy."
"You can't just comment on a girl's body like that!"
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry~"
"Seriously, remember to water the plants in the restaurant every day, and the last person to leave needs to double-check if the safety mode is on. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Don't worry, we handled all this before you came."
After making sure I had everything, I walked to the restaurant door.
"Chef Cosimo, manager, Mr. Benito, Mr. Giacomo, I'm heading out!"
"Stay safe on your journey."
"Thanks for the concern, Chef! I'm off!"

Wait, there's an emergency notice.
"Due to recent detection of excessive collapse radiation by multiple monitors in the city, the entire satellite city is now under lockdown. The following registered Dolls must report to the nearest management office within 1 hour of receiving this notice to assist with screening. The Doll list is as follows..."
At the end of the long list there is an entry: "Sabrina".

How... could this happen?

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.

Journal Entry 5

Neural link check... No abnormalities
Frame function check... No abnormalities
Self-diagnostic complete... Booting systems... Successful

Authenticating... Permission check... Successful
Journal entry module... Loading... Successful

Affiliation: Caldo Italian Chain Restaurant, District D5, Satellite City MEL-07
Frame Model: SSD-62D
Imprint Model: Sportivo Calibro 12
Mission ID: N/A
Time: N/A
Status: N/A

"What happened next? I want to hear the rest."
"Just skip to the part where Rina saves the restaurant with her hellish dishes."
"Did the restaurant go out of business, and Rina had to become a food streamer?"
"No way!" I quickly denied.

Back then, I knew nothing about cooking. It was just a sudden whim that led me to become a chef, a life completely different from before.
After coming here, I've seen some Dolls lose their usefulness and end up abandoned. Maybe that should've been my fate too. The only difference is... maybe I was just lucky enough to meet Chef Cosimo, everyone at Caldo Restaurant, and... yeah!
"I want to thank my friends who have been following me. Thanks to you, Caldo Restaurant was able to get through tough times."

After receiving the emergency notice.
"How could this happen...? I... I'll leave right away, maybe the road hasn't been closed yet! There's still time!"
I was a little anxious, and I even pressed marks on my body without realizing it.
"No, your information has been registered. If you break the rules and leave the city now, you'll definitely be severely punished." Chef Cosimo shook his head.
"But what about the restaurant?"
"Not to worry, just do your job and leave the rest to us." Chef Cosimo flashed a rare smile, "I sorted out the new dishes I developed before. Thanks to their novelty, the restaurant can keep afloat for a while."
"...Is it not closing?"
"No. This restaurant has been in business for 10 years. You've only just joined, Sabrina, but you've worked so hard. All the more reason that we, the old employees, can't give up."
Other chefs ran over as well and patted my shoulders.
"Sabrina, just stay calm and go to work. Leave the restaurant to us."

After the city was locked down, I was assigned to patrolling and peacekeeping duty.
We still haven't figured out why the monitoring data is abnormal, and I haven't been able to get back to the restaurant.
We're just relying on new products to attract customers...
How much longer can "Caldo" hold on?
The processes in my neural cloud are interfering with each other, taking up process time, and I'm wandering the streets in a daze...
Suddenly, a cracking sound snapped me back to reality.
A crack appeared on the ground...
Oh no... The ingredients stored in my body for researching new dishes seem to have exceeded the road's weight limit... No... No one saw that, right?
When I came to my senses, I realized... It was already the end of my shift... Another whole day of doing nothing... Sabrina, get it together!

After my shift ended, I went home and logged into the "Integrated Platform" as usual. More people were joining online discussions, perhaps as a result of the lockdown. Even the signature dish I tried to imitate a long time ago got a bunch of new comments.
Back then, to get Chef Cosimo's approval, I spent half a month perfecting the "tomato soup risotto" recipe. I recorded each attempt and posted the videos online.
That was the first time I got a lot of attention... Realizing I was starting to feel down, I quickly patted my cheeks to snap out of it.
Let's check it out, maybe there are some useful tips.
"Just discovered this treasure Doll! Everyone, come check her out!"
"Old dish, new taste! Little Rina was just as cute back then!"
Reading each comment carefully, I felt my emotional index healing.

"The same dish looks different every time. Sabrina is really meticulous."

What?
It looks different every time. What does this comment mean?
With doubts lingering in my neural cloud, I reviewed the cooking records several times. The techniques, cooking time, utensils, lighting, and shooting angles were all exactly the same.
The color of the final product... did have some subtle differences. I thought it was a simple data deviation and didn't take it seriously.
Then, I pulled up the neural records from those tastings, and some previously overlooked information came to light—
Even though they were all Operino tomatoes from the market, the moisture, ripeness, and sugar content of each individual tomato varied, which led to taste differences within the margin of error... Have my dishes always been like this?

Should this not be considered an "insignificant error" but rather something to pay special attention to?

The red tomatoes rolled in my neural records and fell into the metal sink. The tiny celery pieces bounced into the air. 3 cm, 4 cm, 5 cm...
"Because they're dehydrated, we need to cut them longer to keep the texture... Because they're less fresh, we need to shorten the cooking time..."
I cranked up my neural cloud efficiency to the max, capturing the common threads in these fragments and results.
The pieces of different sizes came together, forming a complete shape again. The various ingredients seemed to come alive, lining up and bouncing around, leading me to an ending I had long awaited.

Chefs use different methods to ensure that the flavors in their individual restaurants are unique...
So, if different ingredients are processed in different ways, will the taste also change?

For humans, this might require a large amount of time and experience, but I'm a Doll. As long as I analyze the components and swiftly perform calculations, I can quickly lock onto the most suitable methods!
"Good! Tactical Doll, Sabrina, now starting the mission!"

"Chef Cosimo, Mr. Benito, Mr. Giacomo, I've got a solution!" Carrying a basket of tomatoes, I pushed open the kitchen door, leaving rows of shallow pits on either side behind me.
"Sabrina? Aren't you supposed to be on duty?"
"Listen to me, listen to me! San Marzano tomatoes! Long cooking time! Rosemary! The restaurant is saved!"
Chef Cosimo offered a bitter smile. "Sabrina, calm down and speak slowly."

I cleared my neural pathways, trying to calm my overly excited emotions, and tried to explain in an orderly manner the method I discovered after spending each night for calculations for an entire week, and even secretly slacking off while on duty.
"I bought every type of tomato available on the market and analyzed them. According to my calculations, the tomato variety most similar to the "Operino" is the "San Marzano." Then I did a lot of experiments and calculations, and found that if you just add 20 grams of sugar, 10 grams of rosemary, and cook it for 5 minutes longer than usual, the final product will have almost the same color and taste as the one made with Operino tomatoes!"
The chefs looked at me with mixed expressions, and silence fell for a while.
"Also, I tried processing the white mushrooms, local beef, celery, cheese... The methods, the methods are all here!" I handed out the printouts with the recipe and food processing methods to everyone.
While everyone was looking at the recipe, I quickly took out the ingredients I had processed overnight and placed them on the prep table. "Give it a try! I bet my salary for the entire next year, it will definitely work!"
After skimming through the information in his hands, Chef Cosimo looked at the ingredients, prepared and piled up on all the prep tables in the back kitchen, then sighed and said, "Alright, I'll cook this time. Sabrina, you assist me."
Chef Cosimo meticulously memorized the steps without missing a single word, and then began to "mechanically execute" the recipe, step by step.
This kind of a dissonance caused some confusion in my neural cloud.

Soon enough, the air was filled with the rich aroma of tomatoes and gravy.
The rice, soaked in the juices of the gravy and tomatoes, was a bright, glossy yellow, with green rosemary sprinkled on top and square-cut tomatoes scattered around.
The dish was ready and plated; it was the signature dish of the "Caldo Italian Chain Restaurant," the "tomato soup risotto."

Appearance-wise, it looked... exactly the same as the previous "tomato soup risotto."
This time, "exactly the same" meant no margin for error.

Everyone's eyes were on Chef Cosimo, who maintained his usual serious expression. He scooped a spoonful and tasted it.
The restaurant fell silent.
Putting down the spoon, Chef Cosimo turned to me with a smile.
"Sabrina, you did it."

"After that, the restaurant resumed serving both new and signature dishes normally."
"I also completely shook off the reputation of just mechanically following recipes and got promoted to a kitchen assistant!"
"That's the end of the story. So, what do you think? Isn't it amazing?" I proudly waited for the live stream viewers' comments.

"So touching!"
"Are you sure it's not made up? Since she has a job now, why does Sabrina still keep streaming?"

Why?

I thought for a moment and gave my answer in front of the camera.
"Because I want to use different methods to achieve the same result."
The chat was full of boos.
"What? That's not an answer at all."
"Seems like there's more to the story. Where's the insider? Don't make me beg you to come out."
The chat was buzzing, but my thoughts had already drifted away.
In search of answers, I uploaded my first dish on the "Integrated Platform." These supporters, whom I had never met, kept reinforcing my dream of becoming a chef.
Now, I can use the unique abilities of Dolls to determine how to handle ingredients and the amount of seasoning through system analysis, ignoring all other factors to create dishes with a perfectly consistent taste.
This is the signature flavor of Caldo Restaurant.

However... this alone isn't enough. Once I put on the chef's hat, I'll become a true chef.
A true chef shouldn't be confined to just one menu, but should create more innovative, more emotional, brand-new dishes that have never been recorded before...
Even if I'm just a Doll who can only "mechanically follow recipes," as long as I keep pursuing... one day I'll create a unique dish that's truly my own.
That day will definitely come.

Journal entry module... Closing... Confirmed.