Chereads / What if...? [Murder Drones] / Chapter 4 - ××× 4 ×××

Chapter 4 - ××× 4 ×××

Weeks passed, and little by little, "Omega Shelter" stopped being just a hole to hide from the cold and the drones, and became something more. Even though the weather was still cruel, with the perpetual winter hitting without mercy, at least I had a place to rest, recharge, and if things went well, draw up some long-term strategy to survive. As much as I tried to keep Doll out of the equation, the reality was that, with each failed attempt to get rid of her, I felt more indispensable. Whether it was because of her incredible ability to hack technology or simply for company in the middle of a desolate world, Doll was becoming something I couldn't ignore.

The bunker began to improve based on our efforts. We found solar panels that, although somewhat worn by time, could still generate some energy. This allowed us to activate more lighting systems and, most importantly, reactivate some outdated security systems, which offered some peace of mind in the midst of chaos. Doll always found a way to optimize whatever old equipment or gadget she found, and Nemo… well, he was always criticizing our progress with his usual sarcasm.

"[Omega Shelter has increased its defense capacity by 14%, though that's still insufficient to repel a real incursion of advanced drones]," Nemo commented once while Doll was adjusting the motion sensors. "Suggestion: start praying or just leave the place."

I ignored his comment, but deep down I knew he was right. Even though we had improved the defenses, the extermination drones always found ways to follow us. And it was during one of those incursions that things really started to get out of hand.

That morning, Doll detected something unusual on the surveillance systems. An extermination drone had gotten past our defenses. "Not possible…" I muttered as I checked the monitors. The damn drone had gone unnoticed and was moving quickly towards our position.

Before I could react, the drone crashed through one of the side doors, sweeping away everything in its path. All I knew was that it had a W on the side of its face. Without thinking, I grabbed the first thing I found—a rusty metal rod—and launched myself at the machine.

The drone, however, wasn't just out to hunt. Its first target wasn't me, but Doll, being a higher priority than a 'measly human.' I watched her fly backwards with a single blow, landing several meters away. Anger clouded my mind. It wasn't just about surviving anymore; the damn drone had crossed a line I couldn't allow!

I charged at it. I had no clear plan, only the force of desperation and an almost suicidal instinct. The drone activated its weapons, but I managed to dodge them at the last second but the rod bounced out of my hand by a bullet. I was disarmed but not without options! My fists impacted against its metal armor, again and again and again, but it didn't have much effect. Still, I kept hitting, searching for any weakness in its structure.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity and a very strong headbutt, I found a vulnerable point: the drone's almost visible energy core where I left a dent with my fists. With a scream of rage, I drove the newly hit metal rod into its core. The drone sputtered, its systems collapsed and it fell to the ground, inert thank god they can't regenerate their cores.

I collapsed next to it, panting. My mask had been broken in the fight when I was given an exchange of blows as well and cuts from the stinger, and although I had managed to win, the damage was done. The air on the surface was toxic, and I had breathed too much. I coughed violently as the pain in my lungs increased. The contaminated oxygen had entered my system, and on top of that, I had several bleeding wounds all over my body. Everything hurt, but the air… the air was the worst. It felt like it was burning me from the inside.

Doll, although battered, slowly stood up and walked towards me. And that was when I noticed something different. It wasn't just the fact that I had won the fight. It wasn't just that the drone was lying destroyed at my feet. No, what made me freeze was the look in Doll's eyes. For the first time, there was something in her expression. Something that wasn't just her typical indifferent emptiness.

She leaned towards me, and although she didn't say anything, her movements said it all. She was worried. Doll… worried? I tried to laugh, but all that came out was a choked spasm followed by a violent cough.

"Come on, don't make that face," I tried to joke between gasps, but I could barely stay on my feet. My vision was blurring. I knew I'd been exposed to too much of the toxic air, and even though Nemo tried to keep me conscious with his usual sarcasm, I couldn't focus on his words. Everything was spinning.

Doll, with surprising gentleness, took my arm and helped me to my feet. Her hands, cold but firm, guided me further into the shelter. Each step felt like an eternity, but she didn't let go of me even once. We walked in silence, the sound of my gasps mixing with the echo of our footsteps. I knew my time was limited if I didn't get a respirator or something that could purify the air I inhaled. Yet something in Doll's eyes, that genuine concern I'd never seen before, gave me the strength to keep walking.

We arrived at the bunker, and she immediately began searching through the things we'd collected over the past few weeks. My vision was still blurry, but I could see her working quickly, connecting wires, adjusting filters. At some point, Nemo let slip a comment about how "efficient" Doll was in critical situations, but I barely heard it.

Eventually, Doll fitted me with a makeshift mask, a mix of old technology we'd found and some tweaking she'd done herself. I inhaled deeply, and though the air was still thick, at least I didn't feel like I was drowning anymore.

"Thank you," I muttered, even though I knew I wouldn't get a response. Doll looked at me, though, and there was more to her eyes than just programming. There was… humanity.

One day, while we were in the shelter, Doll approached with that serious expression I'd learned to recognize. Even though I didn't understand exactly what she was saying, I knew she was about to blurt out something I probably wouldn't fully understand.

"Your voice is soft," she said, staring blankly.

"Huh? I don't understand you, Doll," I replied, half-bewildered.

Doll frowned, that expression of mild frustration she made when she couldn't get something across to me. She sat down on the couch and let out a sigh, looking away, clearly irritated.

"I don't want to," she said quietly, staring at the blank screen on the wall.

I shrugged. It was clear she was trying to communicate something, but the language barrier was still there. So, as usual, I resorted to my only available translation tool.

"Nemo, what did he say this time?" I asked, expecting more than just a sarcastic comment.

— "[Translation: 'You're too boring.']" —Nemo replied, in that tone of robotic neutrality.

— "Boring? Come on, I'm just tired!" —I exclaimed.

Doll glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, and even though I didn't understand 90% of what she said, her expression was always eloquent enough.

— "Ты всегда серьезный," —Doll continued, with a hint of reproach in her voice.

— "I still don't understand you?" —I said while raising her hands in surrender.

Doll let out a heavier sigh this time and stood up, leaving me alone on the couch as she devoted herself to examining some components we had recovered.

— "Nemo, can you translate that last bit too?" —I asked.

— "[Translation: 'You're always so serious.']" —Nemo said.

I scratched my head. It wasn't that he was always serious, it's just that in a world like this, where surviving day to day is a constant challenge, who had time not to be? For a start, it's always the other way around!

Later that day, we found ourselves exploring an underground building that looked like it had once been some sort of clinic or hospital. It wasn't the first time we'd stumbled upon something like this, and I'd already noticed that the architects of this world had a strange obsession with building downwards.

"Nemo, can you take a look at the equipment in here?" I said as I examined a medical bag of sorts with a vitals display and various tools inside.

"[Analysis: The equipment is an advanced medical kit. It can treat minor injuries, though its condition isn't optimal. We should take it to the shelter." "

Perfect! This is going to save us a lot of pain," I said, remembering the last beating I'd taken. It had been ugly, and I shuddered at the thought.

Doll, who had been watching closely, approached me with the same serious expression as before.

— "You... I don't know what to do," he said, not stopping to explain further.

— "Doll, again, I have no idea what you're saying..." I replied, with a mix of tiredness and frustration.

Doll sighed, and went back to examining the equipment, while I shrugged, already accustomed to the routine.

— "Nemo, can you tell me what she meant this time?" I asked.

— "[Doll is worried about your safety. It makes sense.]"

— "Well, if that's it, I'm worried about my safety too," I said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Back at the shelter, after a long day of exploring, trying to avoid hypothermia, and dodging drone patrols, night fell. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to go out and search for some useful weaponry in the destroyed drones from the last raid. I knew it was a stupid idea, but we needed to improve our defenses.

"Nemo, can you monitor my position while I go out?" I asked, already outside the shelter, the snow crunching under my boots.

"[It's always a pleasure to help you with your stupid ideas.]" Nemo replied, with his usual sarcastic tone.

"Who needs encouragement with a partner like you?" I joked, but deep down I knew Nemo was right. Still, I went into the night, searching through the remains of drones scattered around the area.

After a couple of hours, I came across an extermination drone that had a G marked on its body. It was half destroyed, but it seemed to have some valuable parts.

"Nemo, can you analyze it?" I asked as I circled around the remains of the drone.

"[Analysis: The drone is damaged, but you can take out some useful weapons and components. Just don't get electrocuted, please.]" Nemo replied, with a slight mocking tone.

— "Thank you for your trust,"I muttered as I began to dismantle what was left of the drone.

Suddenly, I heard a noise behind me. I turned quickly and saw a group of maintenance drones, with flashlights... and guns. I didn't know whether to laugh or run.

— "Damn it!" —I screamed as I tried to think of a way to escape.

— "Nemo, do something!" —I said desperately.

— "[Alert: Work drones. I told you not to go out alone.]" —Nemo replied.

I didn't have time to respond before a rock thrown by one of the drones hit me in the leg, making me stumble. The pain was instantaneous, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that I was captured and taken to an underground facility. I spent the night in a cell, cursing my luck.

The next day, I managed to escape through a ventilation shaft (yes, as cliché as it sounds). When I finally returned to the shelter, Doll was already awake. She looked at me with that same serious expression that characterized her so much.

— "Where are you?" she asked, crossing her arms.

— "Nemo, translation?" I said, still half-asleep.

— "[Translation: 'Where were you?']"

— "Ah, well… let's just say I had an entertaining night," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Doll looked at me with a mix of disapproval and concern.

— "You know, I'm sorry," she said as she examined me from head to toe, probably looking for any new injuries.

— "Nemo, again, please," I asked as I plopped down on the couch.

— "[Translation: 'You knew I was dangerous.']"

— "I know, I know. But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" I said, half-joking, half-serious.

Doll sighed heavily, as if she'd already lost patience with me. She sat down next to me on the couch, and this time, although I didn't understand exactly what she said, there was something in her tone that sounded almost... human.

"You're always serious," she said, a hint of reproach in her voice.

I laughed softly.

"Nemo, final translation for the day, please."

"[Translation: 'You're always in trouble.']" Nemo replied.

"Thank you, Doll, for caring," I said as I flopped down on the couch, taking my usual spot.

Doll gave me a look of disbelief as she tried to move off the couch, but I wasn't budging.

"I'll be there for you," Doll said quietly, but loud enough for me to hear.

— "Nemo, can you...?"

— "[Translation: 'I care about you.']"

I smiled lightly as I closed my eyes.

— "Yeah, well... I care about myself too," —I said before falling fast asleep, leaving Doll, as always,deal with my everyday chaos.

_____________

There were days when the language barrier with Doll was beyond frustrating. Like when I was trying to explain to her how important it was to repair one of the shelter's doors to prevent more drones from sneaking past the defenses. But Doll, with her near-constant deadpan and her own technical jargon, only responded with phrases I couldn't understand.

"You don't understand, just ask," she said, as she continued to adjust the motion sensors.

"Nemo, what did she say?" I asked, tired of trying to decipher her on my own.

"[Translation: 'You don't understand how important this is.']" Nemo replied in his typical superior tone.

— "Ah, yes, well, you're not really helping me understand it either," I replied, but Doll paid no attention.

The communication was becoming increasingly strained. No matter how hard I tried to keep up with her, her precision in solving problems and her ability to adjust everything to her own way made me feel useless. I knew she didn't mean any harm, but that didn't change the fact that sometimes I felt like a dead weight on the team.

One day, while we were in the shelter and I was trying to organize the supplies we had collected, Doll looked at me with a different expression. She came closer, letting me know that something was bothering her.

— "You are a little worried," she said in a dry tone.

— "What?" I replied, knowing that I wouldn't understand anything, but trying to read some clue in her face.

— "Nemo, can you help me?" I asked.

"[Translation: 'You're too slow.']" Nemo replied.

I felt my blood boil a little. It's not that I didn't know she could do things faster, but the fact that she told me that without any further explanation, just in that direct and cutting tone, put me in an uncomfortable position.

"We're not all machines, you know?" I muttered under my breath.

Doll looked at me for a moment, but then went back to her task as if nothing had happened. However, something about the way she moved made me think she had picked up on my frustration, even if she didn't respond directly.

Later, as I continued to work on improving the shelter's defenses, something made me think that our relationship had become somewhat of a routine. She would fix things, I would try to learn or keep up with her, and Nemo would simply translate for us just enough so that we wouldn't end up yelling. But it wasn't enough.

One day, while we were exploring the remains of an old building looking for more parts to improve the shelter, Doll found an old monitor. She picked it up and began to examine it with interest. I knew she was fascinated by old technology, but I didn't understand why she spent so much time on pieces that seemed useless.

— "Do you see this?" I assumed that I had a component.

— "I… don't understand," I admitted.

— "[Translation: 'Do you see this?']" —Nemo said, intervening as usual.

I moved closer to take a better look. It was some kind of old chip, something that was useless to me, but Doll's eyes were shining behind her visor.

— "Whatever you're seeing there, I hope it's worth it," I said with slight resignation. Doll didn't answer me, she just kept checking the component.

The barriers between us weren't just linguistic. There was something about the way she perceived the world that was completely alien to me. Sometimes I thought that, even if we could speak the same language, I would never fully understand her way of thinking.

Back at the shelter, we continued our routine. She worked on her technical improvements, I tried to keep order or help in whatever way I could. But tensions kept growing.

One night, while I was trying to fix an old radio we had found, something happened that changed everything. I was working quietly, concentrating on adjusting the frequencies, when suddenly, something went haywire and the radio let out a loud crackle.

"Damn!" I exclaimed, jumping back. The radio was still emitting static. Weeks of built-up frustration came to the surface.

Doll, who was working nearby, stopped and stared at me.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nemo…" I muttered.

"[Translation: 'What happened?']" Nemo said.

I was silent for a moment, taking a deep breath. I knew it wasn't her fault, but in that moment, all the stress, helplessness, and exhaustion built up. I walked over to the radio, pushed it aside, and plopped down on the couch. Doll continued to stare at me without saying anything.

"I'm… tired, okay?" I said, even though I knew she wouldn't understand.

She slowly walked over and sat down next to me on the edge of the couch. For a moment, she didn't say anything. Then, in a soft voice, she murmured,

"You should take care of yourself."

"Nemo, what did he say?" I asked.

"[Translation: 'You should take care of yourself.']"

Her words, though simple, hit me in a way I hadn't expected. Perhaps because, despite the language barrier, I realized that, in some ways, we shared a mutual concern. We were alone—I mean, I had no one in this devastated world and she was an orphan—it wasn't much to think about, so to speak. And though our ways of expressing it were different, we both wanted the same thing: to survive.

"I'll try," I replied in a whisper, not sure if she understood me.

Doll didn't respond, but gave me a light pat on the shoulder before going back to her things.No more needed to be said.