That could've been me. 2B's filter pump feels like it just shut and squeezed so uncomfortably. Weight dropped from her chest to what would be her 'gut'. Abdominal cavity. She feels numb. She feels herself loathe her designation and wish for the light. It's so dark without it, without those moments—
"It's not you," she declares, harsh and spitting, frustrated beyond herself. "You're here— You're here with me. You're not infected. You're not going to die here."
If it was any rigid reassurance to save her psychological state, it was for herself, and not entirely for Murderbot to hear. Still— she had to say it.
"What we need is to get out of here," she reaffirms. It's no longer about staying here to help these people that aren't real, even though they are, and even though her mind's eye fights with her every second to react in one way when she was beginning to see it from another angle.
This was not her mission. Fierce in continuing, she wants to leave and couldn't fathom a don't k.o.s from no authority beyond, perhaps . . . A friend. Could she listen to a friend amidst the chaos? She's finding it hard to. Why was she made this way?
no subject
"It's not you," she declares, harsh and spitting, frustrated beyond herself. "You're here— You're here with me. You're not infected. You're not going to die here."
If it was any rigid reassurance to save her psychological state, it was for herself, and not entirely for Murderbot to hear. Still— she had to say it.
"What we need is to get out of here," she reaffirms. It's no longer about staying here to help these people that aren't real, even though they are, and even though her mind's eye fights with her every second to react in one way when she was beginning to see it from another angle.
This was not her mission. Fierce in continuing, she wants to leave and couldn't fathom a don't k.o.s from no authority beyond, perhaps . . . A friend. Could she listen to a friend amidst the chaos? She's finding it hard to. Why was she made this way?