Girl's Frontline: Wicked Animandum

You'd take a seat, but since you need to be standing for Type-64 to take your measurements, you settle for standing as you take another bite out of the strawberry goodness that is the slice of cake you chose to eat. It even came with a plate and spoon, really making you wonder how this slice of edible heaven found its way here of all places. But since it's end destination is your awaiting stomach, you can't possibly complain. Your mouth melts with every bite, and that makes you smile without you noticing.

But you still have questions, so after swallowing your mouthful (giggidy) you voice your first inquiry.

[x] "How come this outpost is being led by a T-doll and not a human commander?"

Type-64 peeks up over your shoulder to answer "Squad leader StG44 has been granted sufficient authorization to keep the outpost operational in the absence of constant human commander supervision. As we are to keep radio silence at all times, commands and reports are received and sent on foot along with supplies."

Skorpion perks up "So, she only carries out the commander's will?"

The SMG behind you nods "The human commander who stationed us here still has higher authorization, but for now we follow Miss StG44's orders. And by extension, you do too."

Finally, that comment made the shotgun perk up as well, as well as having peaked the other girls' attention "Excuse me?"

"As you are outside of safe communication range to Griffin command, StG44 has sufficient authorization to issue simple orders. In short, she outranks you."

"Even the position of squad leader?" Skorpion inquires, halting her eating for now.

"Unless the doll in question has received special authorization, yes, including the position of squad leader."

"Peh… not sure I like this…" AA12 voices, her gaze weary.

[X] "You don't have to like it. Orders are orders."
[ ] "She's a fellow sister in arms, I'm sure it'll be fine."
[ ] "Honestly, I prefer a T-doll over a human commander."

"You really have nothing to worry about. StG44 is a capable officer and only has everyone's best interests in mind. Although she cannot compare to the likes of M4A1, working under her doesn't feel that much different from working under a human commander."

"Well, that's a relief." MP5 sighed "Maybe she'll send us out of Area S09!"

"Doubtful." a familiar voice rings. You all turn to see M1 Garand having made her return, rifle slung on her back as she approached "With Sangvis activity this high, command may need to reinforce our footholds in the area."

"Garand, took you long enough." commented the Shotgun, whom she paid no mind. FN-49 waved shyly at her, to which she responded with a little smile and a wave of her own. She joined in on your circle, reaching into the pile of snacks for a packet of biscuits.

"If you don't mind me asking…" started Type-64, addressing you as a group "Who were your squad leaders before your unfortunate encounter with Sangvis Ferri?"

"Well… Skorpion and I were, having been split into two squads of 5. When M4 and her team requested support, command was given to her." the rifle T-doll recounts.

"Admittedly, she did better than the two of us ever could combined... but it wasn't enough."

"And then we got dragged down with the lot of them…" AA12 added.

"And now we're eating pudding!"

Astra cheerfully declared, gulping down another spoonful. It did seem to have an effect on loosening the grumpy expressions of the others, and the redhead was pleased. The conversation grew to a pause with that, a good opportunity to change the subject with other inquiries you may have. So you ask…

[X] "What kind of equipment is accessible here?"

The one to answer your question would once again be the sneaky SMG behind your back, currently measuring the diameter of your head of whatever reason. The amount of measurements she's taking is starting to feel uncomfortable, but you stick through it, for the sake of your clothes.

"We offer a good number of gadgetry for all classes of T-dolls, although we're short on body and gun attachments. If you wish to resupply on stun grenades, we have plenty of those. I use them myself."

"What about incendiary grenades?" asks the SMG with the eyepatch.

"We've got those in stock as well."

"Would you happen to have a force field module? Mine has been scrapped in our capture." asks the other small SMG.

"We have two spares, though they're in need of calibration."

"Still works for me." she flashed a smile, one that Type-64 was too busy to return.

Somewhere along the conversation regarding equipment, M1 Garand had started taking a good look at you. Her eyes scanning up and down, though mainly stopping at your equipment, with an expression as if thinking. Then she asks.

"Veresk, if I may ask, what equipment were you using before our capture?"

Her curiosity was understandable. After all, the stun grenades in your possession you have only gotten today. Your access to them is fresh out of M16's owen. Until now, the only other thing you had and always had access to as an SMG T-doll was...

[ ] Incendiary grenades
[ ] Smoke grenades
[ ] Flashbangs
[ ] Hand grenades
[ ] Force field modules
[ ] Flares
[ ] Nothing
[X] E-war module (hacking suite)

Whatever you it was, she seems to believe you. No reason she wouldn't really, nothing to be worried about. Why are you so worried? You shouldn't be worried. You take another bite out of your strawberry cake, letting the taste soothe your senses.

Before you know it, the sun is already behind the mountains, far enough for the long winter night to fall upon the Fortress of Solitude. No more rays of sunlight creaking through the boarded up windows, only lamps providing visibility now, while outside the moonlight sufficed. You could hear someone approaching, it was the handgun T-doll from earlier, the one with the stern gaze and long coat.

"NZ-75?"

"My shift ended, and I've been freezing my butt off out there for hours. If you all are gonna stay here for the night, you might as well make yourselves useful."

MP5 raised her hand gingerly, almost unexpectedly. You could also see FN-49 slowly raise hers, but quickly lower it again. NZ nods approvingly.

"Good. Just head out and stand guard at the door. And keep an eye on Uzi."

"Um, couldn't one of us switch Miss Uzi out too? Hasn't her shift ended as well?"

"Pffft, her shift ended hours ago. She still has no idea, and she's more useful out there than she is in here, so I'd rather keep it that way."

"W-what if she asks?"

"Start talking about math or something, make her head spin and she'll forget. Now, off with ya."

MP5 nods gingerly, getting up and giving everyone a little wave "A-alright. See you all later!" she specifically flashes you a particularly confident smile before striding off, weapon in hand. The two of you might be of similar height, but she still looks up to you, and it seems you inspire her quite a bit. NZ watches her leave before taking her place in your circle.

"Aaaand… finished!" exclaimed the SMG whose presence you nearly forgot about, finally done with her measurements. You have no idea whether it was meant to take so long or not, but hopefully it'll equate to the quality of her work. Type-64 looked at you with a smile "Now, you must be rather tired. I suggest you take some rest while I get to work on the others. NZ can show you to your bedroll."

"Gee, I just got here…" complained the handgun as she was getting up again. With your stomach full, your repair scheduled and your safety assured, you can go back to your other priorities. Only by going to sleep can you figure out what to do in the morning. "C'mon then." So you place down your empty plate, silently nod to everyone a nightly farewell, and follow NZ through the church.

She leads you through a door to the backcroft of the church, an area meant for priests and other workers of the church to prepare in for ceremonies. Now it's repurposed as a sort of barracks for the T-dolls, a more private space with only a small window, boarded off too of course. Most of the furniture here seemed unaltered, shelves with books and statues alike, paintings, a desk and chairs, even the wallpaper seemed alright. Aside from the crates of supplies and gear laying around, the room looks rather pristine. NZ reaches from under the desk to pull out a bedroll. She dusts it off, then lays it on the ground. Then she gives you a look with her yellow eyes "Should you need anything, don't bother me. Water's in the bag over there. And finally, don't you dare touch my stuff." she explains sternly. When she's met with silence, the professional kind, she assumes you got it. "Well, uh, glad to see we understand each other. Good night, or whatever." she quickly leaves the room without another look, leaving you alone at last. You take off a few layers, setting down your gear closeby and slip into the bedroll. It's… comfy, if a little cold. It'll warm up soon probably. Today has been a long day, you have earned this rest. Of course, it won't be the usual kind of rest, not even as relaxing as simple data cleanup that dolls usually deal with, you can tell. You close your eyes, setting system after system into sleep mode, finishing the process rather quickly. It didn't take long for you to finally fall asleep.

…

… …

… … …

"Finally made it, eh?"

There is that voice again. Your voice. You'd think that creating a virtual dummy would take too much processing power to fall asleep with, yet here you are, talking to yourself once more in your sleep. Or more specifically, within your digimind.

"They finally let you go, huh? They must've talked your ear off. Ever thought about telling somebody to politely shut up?"

[ ] "They weren't that bad."
[ ] "I was seconds away from doing so."
[X] "Sounds unnecessary."

"Heh, that sounds just like you. Oh, and good job on tricking them into registering you. I was kinda scared you'd let them take control, but you totally screwed them over! No forced suicide missions for you!"

Her/your enthusiasm was interesting. Usually there's a disagreement between the two of you, but you guess it's still you.

"Aaaanyway, now that you're here, how about we rock this joint? There's a lot to remember here, and I know, you wanna know it all straight away. Well, here's the deal. Even though you are the only one who can decrypt your own memories, unlocking this stuff takes time, a couple of nights at best. So, you yourself will need to manage what's the most important to remember, and when. But if I may suggest, you'll probably want to know something that'll get you a sense of purpose once you wake up, soooo… gimmie a sec…"

Unlike before where the voice simply spoke to you and lay in the back of your digimind, now you could feel it actually causing changes and interacting with various systems, though it didn't feel like an outside presence at all, nor an unwelcome intrusion. It felt so natural as if you were doing it yourself. Probably because you are.

"... here. I did some calculating, and although it'll probably lack some of the details, this is likely the file that has your objective. How do I know you ask? It was the first to be encrypted, and you were subconsciously trying to access it when you were given the USB stick, as if reaching there out of instinct as usual. Then again, I might be wrong. In truth, I don't know that much more than you, all I know is just calculated from what you observe. But enough about that, open the damn thing!"

Presented in your mind was the encrypted file labeled "File #1" created 1 year ago. The time stamp is convenient, but you notice it's just another calculation from yourself, however it came to that conclusion. It's a rather small file too, so you're sure you can unlock it and another one in the same night if you have your dummy program helping you out. Only question is, which one? You look at the other files you've been able to find, and take your pick.

[ ] File #4 - 1 year and 5 months ago
[X] File #6 - freshest file out of the bunch, probably just before your capture
[ ] File #8 - 5 months ago
[ ] File #9 - 3 years ago
[ ] File #13 - 2 years and 3 months ago
[ ] Just sleep.

…

… …

… … …

Quiet…

Not the unusual kind of state of this room, but silence has its kinds, its variations, and this one's just… too damn quiet. The window slits were closed, only letting tiny rays of the morning sun in. Dust particles were flying through the beams of light, even though barely anything was moving. That too contributed to the silence, you stood still as a statue before the desk, nothing moving an inch, not even him, sitting on the other side of the desk and staring into nothing. One might figure he was staring into the mess of papers scattered around, the small ornate scales severely unbalanced on one side, or the snapped in half pencils, but it was nothing, his eyes unfocused. You don't usually seem him like this. Nor do you ever see him in this particular room. It's someone else's room entirely, and you were expecting that someone else.

"I was called here by-"

"I know. He won't be here today. It was I who called you."

"... then where is he?"

Finally, he moved. His head hung lower as he stood up, letting out a deep sigh. He is not in the best of moods, that you can tell. You can't recall ever seeing him like this, but with what's been going on lately, you can't really blame him. It's been a tough time on everyone.

"Well… it seems he has finally… done fucked it up." he throws his arms in an annoying gesture, starting to slowly pace around the room "The accusations grew too severe. The press pushed too hard and he couldn't handle the pressure. He was taken into custody just this morning. No doubt he'll be put on trial."

That explains his absence. But damn, that's sooner than expected. Way too soon. Everyone expected at least another few weeks worth of time, or perhaps it was just what they were hoping for. But of course you wouldn't be given enough time to resolve the issue. The enemy strikes while the metal is hot, and every time you were too slow to retaliate.

"This investigation is going to be the end of this company, I have no doubt. All we can do now is abandon ship before we're dragged down with it."

And there it is. The surrender. It was inevitable. Some people left the company ages ago, seeing this grim future coming. Other stayed, either holding out hope or just pushing for one last paycheck. You? You're a doll. The same conditions don't apply to you. In the eyes of the law, you're company property, so you'll be sticking around till it's end, and perhaps even end with it. Said end is nearly here, but it begs the questions, why has he called you here? There's no way there's contracts, nobody hires a company buried under a mountain of accusations in these times anymore. Like the empty desks, you'll be a tool left in an abandoned workshop.

"I have… taken it up to myself to jump in for him, one last time. Do the hard things that he couldn't. Or wouldn't." he finally stops his pacing. Just by the window, he turns to look at you, before continuing "Everyone's being released today. Everyone. We're cleaning house. Once I'm finished here, Columba Company won't have a single living soul to its name. The order would've been given by the former CEO, and although it won't help him one bit… I'm sure he'll understand. Now…" he takes a deep breath, as if preparing to do something he never thought he would need to do.

"Authorization code… R5SE 7685 epsilon 97."

You froze. He now had your fully dedicated and undivided attention. He always did really, but now it was forced. You're very being was being overriden. So far you only experienced this once. And although it's scary to be put into this position again now, you can't quite feel that emotion as of right now. All you can do is listen.

"I hereby relinquish all of Columba Company's control over G-doll Heather, secret designation 'SR-2 Veresk'. Assign all control to user 'doll digimind'. Clear cache of other users. Restrict all verbal authorization code access. Delete outside access function. Engage protocol 1: begin order record…"

It was now that he started approaching you, pulling something out of his pocket. A small USB stick, not unlike many of those used by the company and that you yourself used to deliver. A popular brand for their high quality and near indestructibility, even used by militaries. Except this one was just black, no markings or symbols whatsoever, not even a serial code. Only a short silver keychain with it.

"This'll be your last command, Veresk. In precisely two years from now, you will deliver this USB stick and the data it contains to these coordinates in a place known as…"

[ ] "Area S08, it's a harsh desert, but the sun will be the least of your worries."
[X] "Area S06, it's like S09 without the snow. Not too different from our urban region."
[ ] "Area S05, it's a bit remote and empty, but that's how those badlands usually are."
[ ] "Area S02, the factories have taken their toll on the once lush forests there, soon it's gonna be more rock than trees."
[ ] "Area S03, it's as cold as it can get there, better pack an icepick."

Of course, that is not what those places were called back then, you just recognize them by the designations they go by today. It was at this point that the information from this memory was starting to bleed together with your current knowledge, gaps being filled in. The memory continues.

"Next, you will undergo one last visual change. Overhaul everything, leave no traces. Aside from these two commands, you will from now on be a free doll, with only your own directives to follow. End order record. And... execute."

Finally, in only a matter of seconds, your consciousness has returned to its previous state. Though in those short seconds, all of his words has now been hardcoded into you. There's nothing he can say now, no way to take back his words. You may be feeling that urgent pull to carry out those last two orders he had given you, grasping the small device, which now felt so much heavier in a sense you could not imagine, you know that afterwards, you belong only to yourself. Has such a thought ever crossed your mind before? Have you ever desired this 'freedom' humans always seem so obsessed with? Is this something you, a tool, ever wanted?

You look up, seeing him an indifferent expression, and while you can barely recognize him, you mouth the words…

[ ] "Thank you."
[X] "Why?"
[ ] "What if I fail?"

Instead of a reply, he simply chuckles, taking your hand and closing your fingers around the device. It's a simple gesture, and he leaves it's meaning to you to figure out. After a moment he lets you go, as he returns to his desk.

"Go now. In the next couple of days this place will be turned upside down, and they'll be looking for the company doll. Don't try finding any of us, we'll be long gone."

"Is this goodbye?"

"... yes, it is. I dunno if you love or loathe us, doing what we did. If you want to thank or repay us, just keep your promise. If not… sorry, but it's already done."

You can feel the pull more strongly now. You can only postpone a direct order for so long. And whatever else you might've had left to say, to ask, you'd not have enough to for. Before you know it, you're already twisting the door handle. You know that once you're past that door, you're never coming back to this place, for everyone's sake. Just before the door closes behind you, you hear him mutter these last words to you.

"Welcome to the world of the living. I hope you'll enjoy your stay."

--------- end of memory --------

"Hey, you there? Eh, of course you are. No you, no me. And I'm still here."

It takes you a second to adjust yourself. This pull out was sudden, the surge of new information instant. You nearly woke up, which wouldn't be ideal with all that's going on in your digimind right now. The voice of your virtual dummy reminds you that the memory is indeed over.

"Well, wasn't that something? What a dick move from that guy."

"What makes you say that?"

"He basically kicked you out on the street with nothing to your name, no friends, nobody to guide you, a leash with a two year activation period which he somehow called freedom, and all that after all you've done for them. He got rid of you like an unwanted puppy."

"..."

"Say what you want, but these thoughts being mine means they're by extension yours. Somewhere in your mind, somewhere along the line, you had these thoughts. Or perhaps the opposite, you had these thoughts as a result of denying them. Whichever it was, doesn't matter now, does it?"

"..."

"Yup, your objective is clear. And looking at the date, it's almost time. Don't worry, I'll plan out your schedule. Want me to pack lunch and buy plane tickets too?"

"... load File #6."

"Always so professional~ Sure, knock yourself out."

--------- memory start ---------

Fire spewed all around. Bullets whizzed past. Covers were blown and trees fell to create more. What seemed so damn peaceful just hours ago turned into a gods damned warzone. In a region like this, Area S09, this is the definition of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. What was it you were hoping to gain out of this? A quick buck? Some intel? A good feeling? Whatever your reason was for not simply walking away from the assaulted Griffin T-dolls when you had the chance, it was now replaced by a fight for survival. Back to back with those dolls you've just met, there wasn't even time for proper greetings before the Sangvis horde intensified a tenfold. There were no questions, you had to work together. Even if you wanted to slip by through the cracks and escape with your life, you could find no such opening. Your E-war module was only so useful against the likes of Sangvis Ferri. It wasn't that they were exceptionally tough nuts to crack, but every direct hack against them always came with a risk. Malicious virus software that can cause serious damage to the digimind, sometimes even irreversible damage. The body can be repaired, but the digimind is delicate business. High risk, high reward. For now though, you're on the defensive to minimize risk of infection. Repelling enemy hacking attempts and distracting them. But it's a lot, and you need as much computational power on the physical battle right now. You've got fire to draw, and allies to defend.

"4 o'clock! 4 o'clock!" screamed one "Right for fuck's sake!"

"Left too! Cyka!" screamed another.

"Granata!" called a third, throwing a grenade. It's blast caught several hostiles which would've otherwise been able to open fire on you from the left, allowing you all to focus fire on the aforementioned right "Хорошо!"

Those were the three you were stuck with in this tight position, with only rocks, trees and shallow trenches to provide cover. A rifle, an SMG, an assault rifle... and you, another SMG. All three of them occasionally used Russian expressions which you knew all too well. The weapon you hold too shares the same origin, the high and complex quality of the cold but great motherland. You should be proud to carry the name of SR-2 Veresk.

"Come ooon! Is that all you've got?!"
"I've still got bullets! And vodka as well!"
"For the motherland!"

To their aggressive and proud taunting, you can only respond with…

[ ] "The hell is wrong with you guys?!"
[ ] "Come and get it, blyat!"
[ ] "Guys, focus!"
[X] Silence.

No matter what you said, they only kept cheering to themselves and spewing bullets. Despite this life or death situation, they seemed to be having a blast. Perhaps they did not realize the gravity of the situation, despite the never decreasing number of Sangvis Forces converging on them. Or maybe… they had too much faith in their momentary commander. Comms were down, the enemy set up a jamming signal keeping the Griffin dolls effectively cut off from their command. But apparently, and elite T-dol, possibly even an experimental model, was fitted with independent command modules and authorization to completely replace functions of a human commander with almost no drop in efficiency. What did they call her again, M4 something? They were practically jumping up and down for orders from her, as if she was indistinguishable from a human commander. You can't help but wonder if it was genuine, or merely part of their programming to seem more appealing. But you can't deny that if it wasn't for that T-doll's leadership, you would've been overrun hours ago. How much longer can this go on for?

BOOM!

An explosion rung way too close for comfort. You have a strange feeling that a lot more of those will be coming your way today.

"Our position is growing too hot! M4 orders retreat!"
"Da!"

Their voicing of the command seemed a little unnecessary, you all were on the Zener network, and M4 issued the order to all of you. You were able to disobey the order at any time, while for them it were irrefusable instructions, to you it were just mere suggestions the effectiveness of which was for you to judge. And so far you could only judge them all as worthy following, unless you suddenly fancied getting shredder. You all back down, falling back further into the snowy trench while laying down suppressive fire on your pursuers. It doesn't feel like you're any less surrounded here really, Quite the opposite, it feels tighter.

"Damn, we're sitting ducks here! Anyone got eyes of the fucking ringleader yet?!"
"Echelon C? Echelon C respond!"

"... we… west…" responded the squad, heavily muffled by noise and static until silence reigned over the comms.

"What? West? You mean she's West?"

…

"Hello? Echelon C? Astra? … blyat!" exclaimed the assault rifle wielding blonde, trying something else "M4, we lost contact with Echelon C… M4? Motherfucker, the network is offline!"

Now that she mentions it, there really is no-one who you can contact through it, despite at least 7 other friendly dolls being in the vicinity. The network is down, and with it was all guidance. Sangvis must've set up another, even stronger jammer, but how? Such a battle force would take weeks to prepare, and they seemingly pulled all this out of thin air in the middle of nowhere. The situation is looking really ugly, and you can even see it on the other dolls' faces now. Gone was the overenthusiastic grin, home came the realization of the odds. But their fighting spirit did not waver. Quite the opposite, one of them was as if struck with a sudden burst of genius.

"I've got an idea, cover me!"

A request much easier said than done, and much less appealing than M4's suggestions. But still, what else could you do? Conveniently, covering yourself also meant covering the rifle T-doll, so you'll be supporting her either way. You glance back at what she's doing, and you see she's climbing a nearby tree. Her light pink hair swayed in the wind with her shouldered rifle as she climbed ever higher, which meant it was every more difficult to cover her ass. Speaking of which, you could totally see it from down here!

"Hurry the F up Simonov!"

"I'm climbing as fast as I can, ok?!"

"Enemies on our lef-UGH!"

"Papasha!"

The short T-doll stumbles around, still on her feet as she sprays rounds loosely in the direction of the hostiles. She has been hit, pieces of artificial skin and blood on the white snow. Yet she stands on keeps on fighting. You aid her in dispatching the enemy strikers, lest they take another shot.

You look up to see the rifle T-doll has already reached the highest point of the tree able to carry her weight. She was now aiming down through her weapon's scope, looking west. She must be mad, preparing to take such a shot amongst this chaos. But it was your only bet.

"Insects of Griffin." blasted a loud Sangvis broadcast "Several of your units have already fallen under our heel. Surrender yourselves at once. We shall not ask again."

"The hell you won't."

BANG!

You hear the rifle round leave her barrel from above your position, Simonov taking her shot. At what you're not sure. With what precision you're not sure. And with what amount of success you can't possibly know. But it'll reveal itself soon. If she hit her mark, and her mark was what you suspect it was, the enemy units should weaken significantly. But moments later, the assault does not weaken.

… BANG!

Another shot rang out, possibly another try. But it sounded more distant, and much heavier, was it her gun? You were about to turn around and look when you saw something fall towards the ground quickly.

THUMP!

It smacked against the snowy ground like dead fish. Dead as the look in her eyes. Dead as the grip on her still smoking rifle. Dead as the missing chunk of her head's left hemisphere. The dead T-doll lay at your feet, and with her your only plan and a considerable chunk of your survivability.

"Simonov!" exclaimed the assault rifle T-doll. She rushed over to her fallen comrade's side, realizing the fatal damage immediately. The SMG T-doll stared in disbelief. "Cyka… Итак, это конец... для нас обоих…" as she muttered in her mother tongue, she disconnected the bayonet knife from her comrade's rifle, standing up to face the Sangvis horde one more time.

Firearm in one hand, knife in the other, she took charge into the frontline. A straight up suicidal action, but by the look in her eyes, that's likely the point.
"Come and get me! I'LL KILL OF OF YOU! AAAAAAAAA!"

"AK-47, wait!"

The SMG tries to stop her, but to no avail. Her own wounds slew her down too much, and her comrade was gone. Lost to the frontline, you can only hear her battle cries as she gives it her all, only one directive left in that hard metal skull of hers. Vengeance.

That's a second one gone. Now it was only you and a wounded ally against all the odds. At this point it might as well be written off as a critical failure. But this is you, a critical failure means your death. You can't die, not here, not now. But how can that outcome be possibly avoided? Your thoughts are a mess as you fight, and you barely register your ally taking another hit. She stumbles towards you, taking hold of you for support her legs were lacking, unable to keep standing by herself anymore. She looks at you with weary eyes, so similar to the lifeless ones of the rifle T-doll, so much so that you can barely see the difference. One has died so quick her eyes still looked ablaze with spirit, the other's flame is struggling to burn as her body gives out, yet it wants to burn so bright. The next second, a round that was clearly meant for you had found its way in her back. The flame was extinguished right before your very eyes, and her grip loosened until she too fell to the snowy ground.

And what was it you did, when the enemy with their unrelenting numbers and weapons of mass destruction converged on you, shredding the last chance for survival you had?

[X] Surrender.
[ ] Fight till death.
[ ] Play dead.

No matter what, the outcome was already written. A small device fell to your feet seemingly out of nowhere. Grenade, you're sure of it. And when it's white glow encased you, the terrible noise stuffing your ears, the blackness came and swallowed your senses.

--------- end of memory --------

… gasp!

This time you could not remain within the digimind. The shock took you straight out of your not-so-peaceful sleep, and you look around to see you were still nicely tucked in within your bedroll. Your body was fine, much better than yesterday actually. The night's sleep being a heavy one doesn't mean it wasn't refreshing, and seeing the rays of sunlight peek through the boarded window confirms that the night has already passed. Time flies by fast when disconnected from the outside world, but it still passes. And you've clearly spent enough time there for now. You connect interlock your fingers above your head and stretch properly, shaking the sleep off of your eyes

"Good morning Veresk."

You could already hear MP5's startled expression if she were there. This SMG, Type-64, really needs to work on how she approaches people. You look to the side to see her standing there, already in full gear and holding a cup of steaming tea.

"It is currently 7:00 AM. I have prepared some leaf tea, as well as completed maintenance on your garments and gear."

That last remark almost made alarm bells ring out in your head. For every T-doll, the act of letting foreign hands on her weapons is a cause for alarm. Some dolls just feel uncomfortable, some might even blow up at the notion. But you check your weapon which was right beside you, it looked just as you left it, didn't even move an inch. Of course… she must know the feeling herself too. She has done maintenance on your gear, but the state of your weapon is a personal endeavor she has no right sticking her fingers into. Seems like this doll does indeed have lines she does not cross. Either way, it is time to get dressed. Though, you can't help but notice the shirt you wear underneath your poncho is a little different, if still the same [X] white, short sleeved dress shirt that you leave untucked and have the top two buttons open, and a red necktie with a patch covering the Colombia Company logo.

"I must apologize, as I could not get the exact measurements of your more private parts, the inner layers might be a little off the mark."

Private parts? She means… oh…

"Well, how about you try it out and tell me how it fits around the upper area? I modeled it after my own size."

You put the shirt on, and upon feeling it fall into place, you say...
[X] "It's very loose, what's with all this unnecessary space in the front?"
[ ] "Could be a little tighter, but I don't really mind."
[ ] "Fits like a glove."
[ ] "It's little tight, but maybe it'll stretch out."
[ ] "Too tight… it's almost hard to breathe…"

The SMG giggles with a hand before her mouth, though what's so funny you cannot tell.
"Give it some time, the material tightens and stretches out as is needed to suit the wearer. If not, you can always come to me for adjustments." she gives you a trademark smile, and places the still steaming cup of tea on a nearby shelf. "I will now leave you in private again. Once you are ready, I suggest you go talk to StG44."

Without another word, the SMG leaves the room, leaving your to yourself. You look around to see other bedrolls having been used. The other dolls that slept here must've already gotten up. How considerate of them to not wake you up. Or perhaps you were sleeping so tightly they couldn't wake you if they tried. Putting on the rest of your clothes, checking your gear, tucking away the bedroll and smelling the leaf tea, you make a mental note of your current resupplied inventory.

10 magazines of standard ammo compatible for your weapon, flashlight, reflex scope, 4 stun grenades, military rations (sorry, no strawberry cake T-T), and your personal belongings, the USB stick. A system check reveals that aside from the still encrypted files, everything's fine. Your E-war module is E-combat ready. And after this pleasant tasting tea, your energy levels are optimal. It was time to head out.

You open the door carefully. You're trying to not attract attention to yourself. You have a mission after all, and there's no guarantee that Griffin will just let you go on your merry way to god knows where. Your brain buddy made sure to burn that fact into your mind. But barely five steps into the main hall, you were greeted by the outpost commander herself.

"Good morning Veresk. Had a good rest, I hope?"

You had noticed her before, standing by the map at the altar again, performing daily base management through her datapad. Your hopes of sneaking past were met with failure. She looked up from the device, green eyes registering you were fully packed up and ready to head out. You can already tell she won't believe you if you say you're just going to catch some fresh air.

"You look geared up… going somewhere?"

[ ] "Yes, I had a mission from command prior to my capture. Now that I have recovered my strength, I can continue to carry out my orders. However, it's confidential, so I can't tell you anything more than that."
[ ] "Well, it's more of an errand for M16. I owe her one, and I'd hate to involve anyone else…"
[X] "No, I've got something personal to do, something very important to me. I know it's a lot to ask, but… could you keep this one off the record?"

You were mentally bracing yourself for the response you might get. It is a highly spoken off commanding doll you're speaking to after all, she might see right through your words, or use her authorization to prod further or even refuse your request. That might complicate things, then you were surprised by her rather simple response.

"... I see."

Her gaze did not seem suspicious. Not angry, not stern, not even a furrowed brow. If anything, she looked worried. She typed something into the datapad, you couldn't tell what from your angle. A moment later she responded.

"Well… I suppose… but, I cannot with a good conscience let you go out there all by yourself."

…

"... so, let me use my authorization to send at least one doll with you."

…!

"Please, I insist. Anyone from this outpost, I can set you as the leader of a two member echelon, meaning she will stand by your side until your task is completed. You will need the help out there."

The offer was almost too good to be true. Or bad, depending on who you are. Either way, it's a good thing, because she will let you go as long as you take someone with you. Whether it's an act of goodwill, or an attempt to keep an eye on your actions, you'll figure out how to deal with that later. The main question is, who should you take with you? Best to consider your options.

AA-12, although she keeps to herself, is possibly the most elite out of the bunch. And being the only shotgun type here, considering their kind is already rather rare, having one under your command is a special advantage indeed. Just pack some extra lollipops for good measure.

Astra Revolver might have an appetite and a childish behavior, but she is a capable scout, M4 said as much, and you witnessed it yourself. And she saves you snacks! True friendship material right there!

AAT-52, the self-proclaimed idol, and the only machine-gun type in the outpost. While their kind is not as rare, their firepower is almost unmatched. And in terms of size, you might get along well, though she may often steal the spotlight of she feels like it. Better keep an eye on the ammo reserves though. Rations too perhaps.

MP5, the little SMG that could. Always happy to help and do her best even if her performance isn't the best, her determination when placed under capable command is something to behold. He force field module could also come in handy, but it definitely won't help her if you end up in a sewer again.

M1 Garand, the capable rifle who even M16 trusted to do well. She got along with pretty much anyone, and she backed you up once already. But seeing how much she likes to double check on everything, you're not sure if that spells a positive or negative.

FN-49. A very shy and uncomfortable one, thought it isn't for lack of trying. She clearly does her best to get along with everyone and looks up to her superiors. A good shot, being a rifle type, and no way she'll prod you for details.

Skorpion sometimes reminds you of M16, though with more smug. Maybe it's just the eyepatch, and although her accuracy might be more affected by this shortcoming, she doesn't need much accuracy casting hellfire with two SMGs. The hellfire might also be more literal thanks to her incendiary grenades.

NZ-75 made your acquaintance yesterday. She seemed somewhat cold and off, trying to be different, but she did her job when told to do so. Plus, she has two handguns for the price of one, and you can't deny that her overall style was - as kids say these days - hella cool.

Micro-Uzi and you haven't really chatted yet, but what you've heard about her seemed like sufficient knowledge. She isn't the smartest, but that also means she won't ask you any uncomfortable questions, just like a good subordinate. Additionally, she doesn't need much brain power with two SMGs at her disposal, which is considerable firepower by itself, with the addition of incendiary grenades. Maybe she's not even that bad once you get to know her.

Lastly, there's Type-64, StG44's personal adjutant. She did say anyone after all, and that SMG is the perfect assistant. Your clothes would still look like torn rags if not for her, and she has an extensive skill set covering many things outside of combat. Her unnoticeable nature might lead more bullets your way though. You'll also share your supply of stun grenades.

"So, who will it be?"

[X] AA-12
[ ] Astra Revolver
[ ] AAT-52
[ ] MP5
[ ] M1 Garand
[ ] FN-49
[ ] Skorpion
[ ] NZ-75
[ ] Micro-Uzi
[ ] Type-64
[ ] Insist on going alone