Ignoring the heat creeping up my face, I jogged over to the two androids.
"You guys were amazing!"
Watching that kind of destruction on a screen didn't do it justice. Seeing two red-haired girls cleaving, slamming, and absolutely wrecking machines in real life? Fucking awesome.
One of them, the one with straight hair, looked vaguely amused. The other—curly hair, hands on hips—seemed more exasperated than anything.
She spoke first. "What unit are you with? What the heck are you doing so far out here? Anemone would pop a circuit if she knew one of her people was wandering around alone."
I stopped mid-step.
Because I had absolutely no idea how to answer that.
The truth? That some godlike being popped me into another universe like a piece of loose change? That sounded like a fast track to being treated like a lunatic. I wasn't exactly eager to come off more insane than I probably already was.
"I… don't know who Anemone is," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. "I'm Issac, by the way."
The straight-haired one looked at me like I was crazy before she tilted her head slightly. "I'm Popola."
Her twin followed up immediately. "Devola."
"So… you guys know where we are?" I asked.
Because I had absolutely no clue. Forests, maybe cities—that was mostly what I remembered from the game. I recall some type of camp as well. But finding any of that without a clue where I was? Yeah, no chance.
"We do," Devola said slowly.
"You don't?" Popola asked, her voice tilting upward, like she'd just discovered a new species.
They exchanged a look. Just a glance, but there was definitely something passing between them. Some twin-language telepathy was happening behind the scenes.
"I think you should come with us, Issac," Devola offered.
"Not like he knows where to go," Popola muttered under her breath, just quiet enough that she probably thought I wouldn't hear.
Huh. I knew that look. That was the look you gave a mildly amusing dog doing something rather stupid. Or the one you gave a confused old man trying to pay with expired coupons. A runaway patient, freshly escaped from the hospital gown and all.
Was I already getting the looney bin treatment?
I could either refuse and look even crazier, or just roll with it and let them treat me like the android equivalent of a confused old man.
Not exactly how I pictured my grand otherworld adventure starting.
Option A: wander off alone, probably starve or die of thirst in the middle of nowhere.
Option B: go on an adventure with two beautiful androids who—hopefully—were nice.
Yeah. No contest there.
"Lead the way!"
——
She glanced at her sister, doing her absolute best to keep a straight face while linking up a quick comms channel. Probably a little rude to do it while they had someone else walking beside them, but hey—safety came first.
"He's pretty unique," Devola offered first.
"You mean he's a weirdo, sis."
"I was trying not to be rude," Devola said, her voice dry but amused.
Popola didn't dance around it. "You think he has the logic virus?"
A random android, with no idea who Anemone was, wandering through the desert with half his arm internals just showing to the air, with not a speck of skin? It was a reasonable question.
"Doubt it," Devola slightly shook her head. "He's not trying to kill us. I thought maybe he was one of those old models that got abandoned."
"The ones that are all rust and holes?" Popola raised a brow. "Maybe, but he looks way too fresh for that."
Then—
A small pulse of light lit up behind them. She glanced back and caught sight of their strange companion casually summoning glowing spheres from his clearly skinless arm.
Right. That too.
"Soo… he's got hardlight projections. Stuff only the top-of-the-line units are barely starting to use," she muttered. "Kinda pokes a hole in the whole 'ancient' theory."
"You think he's a rogue android, then?" Devola asked.
Popola turned again, catching the look on his face as he played with the light like it was a toy. He looked thrilled.
"Yeah, I think he's too stupid for that." She giggled a little, remembering the line he'd shouted earlier—so much spunk behind it. It was cute.
There was a soft hum of agreement from Devola over the comms. "Wary trust until we can verify?"
"Best we can do," Popola shrugged. "Just… try not to dig too deep. In case he really is some rogue model or some experimental black-ops model."
"I think I should be telling you that," Devola replied, a little too nagging for Popola's taste. "Need I remind you about your last bit of 'project' ?"
What? No. She was totally responsible. So what if she broke a few things now and then? Or got a little desperate when the scavenging trips came up short? Years of boredom would do that to anyone.
She huffed in response and cut the private commlink.
Issac was still walking beside her, eyes fixed on the drifting lights around his hand.
"Having fun?" she asked.
"Absolutely."
The light twisted and pulsed, reshaping itself fluidly—from a sphere to a triangle, then a flat square, then something more complex. Shapes evolved into animals. A few she didn't recognize, others looked like stylized fish, lazily floating in the air around his arm like holographic koi.
Okay. The beam stuff was already impressive. But this? She hadn't even heard of hardlight tech this responsive.
She narrowed her eyes, reaching out with her senses—no sign of maso. No trace of a spell being cast or angelic script either.
She'd promised Devola not to dig—but a couple of light questions wouldn't hurt. It was kind of refreshing, honestly. Having someone around who didn't look at her like she was a freak.
Issac continued playing with the lights, completely lost in the moment.
Popola glanced at him again. Simple questions were probably safest. Nothing that might trigger a fault if his systems were scrambled.
"How's that work?" she asked.
"I have honest-to-god no idea," he replied.
"You… don't?"
"I mean, I know it's self-chargeable somehow. But there's no readout or meter or anything, so I don't get how it does it. I've just been experimenting and playing it by ear. The first time I used it was back during the fight. Shot a beam straight out of my palm."
She glanced at his arm. No readouts. No indicators. Nothing that resembled an ammo gauge or energy meter, which struck her as odd—especially if it functioned like a weapon.
Was he a prototype? The thought made her uneasy. Androids didn't usually build weapons into their limbs. That kind of modification wasn't common, and for good reason.
They were created in the image of humanity. To distort that image was… repulsive.
She kept the frown off her face, but the thought stuck with her. Whatever he was—whoever built him—they hadn't done it kindly. They'd forced him away from the form of their creators, reshaped him into something else.
It wasn't unheard of for androids to modify themselves, but this wasn't like replacing a servo or adding a processor. A violation of the shape they were meant to preserve.
The idea that someone had done that to him—forced it on him—left a sour taste in her mouth.
"I think the arm's design looks good," she said, keeping her voice light.
Still, she wasn't going to say anything cruel.
Issac grinned, still lost in the wonder of it all. He kept talking, rambling about possibilities and ideas, and she let him. It felt nice.
No judgment. No careful words.
She couldn't even remember the last time someone talked to her like this that wasn't her sister. It felt… good. Just talking. Anemone tried, sure, but there was always pity behind her eyes. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had a normal conversation with a stranger who didn't treat her with disdain. Just simple back-and-forth.
So she let it continue. Let him ramble about his excitement, theories, and wild guesses.
It was oddly comforting, though she couldn't really explain why. Was she really this starved for conversation?
Still… talking to him just felt right.
And then the words just slipped out.
"Do you want me to run diagnostics on your arm?"
Across from her, Devola palmed her face, shooting her a look that screamed really?
And yeah—fair. Popola was the one who said they needed to tread carefully, and now here she was tossing out offers like they didn't just meet a mystery android.
But still… it'd probably be fine, right?
Issac paused mid-lightshow, the glowing shapes vanishing as he turned toward her. The silence stretched, sharp and sudden. For a moment, she panicked. Maybe she'd misstepped. Maybe she'd ruined it—again.
Then he shrugged. "Oh, are you sure about that? I don't think popping open my arm right now's the best use of time. But I would appreciate an expert opinion, honestly."
Popola blinked. "What do you mean, pop you open?"
"I mean—don't you need to like… open it up? That's how diagnostics work, right?"
Right. He didn't know. Amnesia or memory corruption. No idea how any of this worked.
"We can use a simple diagnostic spell," Devola said, stepping in smoothly. "No cutting, no opening required. That is—if you're okay with it, Issac. We'd understand if you didn't trust us enough. Or trust our skill."
Not like they'd been fixing androids for literal millennia or anything.
Popola scoffed inwardly. Most other units only came to them when they were desperate. No one liked being patched up by the failures.
Issac shrugged again. "Go ahead. It's not like either of you couldn't wipe me out anyway, so… no point in playing scared."
Popola giggled. Not quite the thought process she'd use—but hey, trust was trust.
"Just stand still for a sec."
She raised her hand, molding a spell with a precise pulse of maso. Better to start with NFCS diagnostics. If she could trace any neural desync, maybe they could fix his memory pathways, too. The golden glow of the spell swept over him.
And then—
Pop.
Her spell fizzled into sparkling motes of light and dispersed.
Issac blinked. "Uh… was that supposed to happen?"
"Just—just give me a sec," she muttered. "Maybe I'm a little out of practice."
She tried again, pouring more focus into the spell. The golden light reformed… and immediately started flickering again.
No. No way.
She forced herself to concentrate, narrowing her focus to try and sense anything from his internal systems. But it was like hitting a brick wall. Blank. Total void.
"Devola, help me."
Her sister raised a hand and sent out her own spell. And then her expression shifted—scrunched brows, mouth tightening.
Nothing. She felt something on the other end, but it gave no details. No layout, no structure. Like trying to scan a black hole.
"What the hell," Popola whispered. This had never happened. Not once. Not in hundreds of years.
Pride prickled. Her hands clenched.
Alright. Time to get serious.
They both buckled down, spells flowing in tandem, analyzing, probing, trying to make something give. Minutes passed. Then more.
"Hello?" Issac's voice broke in. "Earth to Popola?"
She snapped out of it with a jolt.
Issac was looking mildly uncomfortable.
"Oh god… how long were we—"
"It's been like half an hour."
Devola's eyes widened. "We're so sorry!"
Popola felt her face heat. Losing track like that? Ugh. That wasn't just rude—it was sloppy.
"The results are… weird," she said quickly. "Our spell came back completely blank. Like we hit a wall. We've never seen anything like it. We couldn't read anything."
Issac blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck.
"Oh. Yeah. That's probably either my human body or my perks. I probably should've mentioned that earlier."
Wait.
His what?