Machine Learning: A Cave Story Quest

Machine Learning - File 1, Entry 7 - Find

There is not entirely a lot of time to think about what to do as the strange creature barrels towards you. They're fast in spite of their absurd appearance, and each step they take leaves a slight depression in the metal floor. Without really thinking your brain compares their footprints to the ones you saw in the facility below. They don't match. That's one answer you won't be finding so easily.

You roll to the side and whip out your gun as the creature closes in. They stop sharply and turns towards you just in time to be shot in the face. The air is filled with the quick, steady drumbeat of gunfire. The lifeless fluorescent light of the Egg Corridor is overwhelmed by silvery blue flashes. You take careful steps backward as you hold down the trigger, keeping your aim steadily on your bizarre opponent. The gun's ammunition is half-emptied and your back is nearly up against the cargo crates forming the back wall when, instead of dying horribly like most things that are shot that many times, your foe turns and jumps into the air.

You have no option but to stare at the massive metallic rectangle soaring through the air. Their nubby arms flail wildly, inexplicably turning a trajectory that should have had them landing far short of you into a perfectly-aimed movement by way of some physics-defying propulsion. They float clumsily a few metres further in the air than they should've, like one of the cartoon characters you've spied on Chevron and Paren's stolen stash of videos flapping their arms to fly. It's utterly absurd. In the time it takes for you to determine that yes, that actually happened and your central processes are not more damaged than you thought they were, your enemy is almost directly on top of you.

A frantic dive just barely saves you from being crushed under the disinterested creature's bulk. There's no sign of exertion or injury on its face when they turn towards you, not quickly but still with far more precision than something so large and unwieldy should be capable of. They could definitely move much faster if they wanted to. If they had, you would have been destroyed already.

You grip your gun harder than is necessary when you fire your next rounds. That shouldn't be right. You're still so much slower, so much weaker than you were. If you were in your right condition, this impossible creature wouldn't be a deadly threat. They would have to take you seriously instead of charging forward with a bored expression. Bored and somewhat irritated? It's hard to tell with just eyes and a mouth to emote, and you have always had little ability to read expressions. It wasn't a useful skill to program into a soldier. Your squadmates learned quickly enough, but the ability still eludes you.

The creature jumps a second time. When they start to flutter in midair, you rush forward and under them then abruptly turn to the side. Their clumsy flight can't counteract their own momentum, leaving you with a safe distance between yourself and your foe.

…except that's not what happens. Defying all logic for a second time, your opponent turns midair and slams into the ground within arm's reach of you. The shock of the impact of their body against the floor ripples through your damaged legs, sending you to the floor. Your eyes meet the stony attacker's, finding them is devoid of interest as before. You're certain that, in that moment, they could rush forward and crush you without any chance of escape if they really wanted to.

You fire wildly, not bothering to take the time to aim properly at this distance. Your opponent lets out a strangled cry as the spray of bullets wash against their face. Metal clanging follows the echoes of gunfire, signaling your scrambling retreat to the creature. The trigger remains held down all the while.

Any sign of disgruntlement on your target's face is gone when you have made safe distance. When they run towards you again, you try something different. Whatever this thing is, they're stronger than you right now. That, and smart enough to speak. Wearing them down slowly and hoping that they don't change strategies or get lucky and manage to hit you would be a poor course of action. A plan that relies on so much chance is completely invalid. You'll need to improvise.

You grab the door of one of the crates beside you by its hinges and tug. It snaps off, leaving you with a rectangular sheet of metal in one hand. Carefully planning out your movements to compensate for your lacking agility, you throw the sheet at your opponent and then jump towards it. Your improvised projectile lands straight on the blocky attacker's and bounces off with a metallic clang. In spite of having reacted to nearly a full magazine of machine gun fire with only mild irritation, being struck with a large metal door elicits a cry of distress from your enemy.

Really? That's what manages to actually shake them? Not getting shot repeatedly, but throwing a door?

Your confusion nearly distracts you. The path of your leap follows the improvised projectile, keeping it between you and your foe's line of sight. It bounces out of the way just in time for you to land on the blocky creature's head and unload your Machine Gun straight down. You fire until the gun clicks empty, then kick off and jump to a safe distance.

Your enemy stares at you, wincing over their now-obvious irritation. They look at worst a little more scuffed up than they were before. Disappointing, considering you were hoping to cause significant damage with that attack. Your gun is empty now as well, and it will take time for it to fabricate more ammunition. You keep its barrel trained on your target regardless.

"Seriously?"

The creature speaks again, sounding both upset and utterly exasperated. They don't sound like somebody who's just been shot several times. It's like this is all just a massive inconvenience.

"Jeez. You're way tougher than those other robots. I'm not dealing with this right now, but don't think I'm gonna forget you!" they yell. With those final words the being flexes its stubby feet and leaps straight up. The movement is blindingly fast, a wave of wind splashing against your front in its wake. The creature goes straight through the ceiling, punching a rough hole through what must be layers and layers of metal and earth. You stare blankly at the hole. That…

How strong was that thing really? And you might have survived, but you've definitely thinned their patience with you. A second encounter should be avoided at all costs. You lower your gun, taking an unsteady step forward. Why forward? There's no clear direction for you to go.

A coldness you hadn't noticed settling into your frame is slowly fading. The creature had said that you're nothing like the other machine soldiers they fought. Found you to be too much trouble, too much effort to destroy. That means they can't have met any of the rest of your squad. Any one of them would be your superior right now. They must all still be safe, from this threat at least.

Your eyes remain fixed on the hole in the ceiling. What sort of strength does that take?

Something moves out of the corner of your eye. First slowly, then dashing away just as you turn towards it. Still on guard, you react the same way any soldier of your caliber would.

Your gun is still in your hand, partially reloaded in the brief pause since you emptied its chambers. Your arm moves before your head does, taking aim and firing a single round towards the potential threat. That readiness is rewarded with a groan of protest from your arm. The fight must have worn on your still-damaged motor systems. A squeal of pain followed by short, sharp breaths tells you your aim wasn't disrupted, though. You turn to look at what it is you shot and see the Mimiga from earlier lying on the ground and clutching their leg.

Their eyes are still dark. You don't have to worry about them becoming Rabid just yet. It seems probable at this point that this Mimiga isn't carrying any Red Flowers. They aren't especially threatening. Mimiga are more durable than most creatures by a wide margin, as evidenced by the fact that this one's leg is just severely bruised and not in two pieces, but without the Red Flowers they're not strong or fast. This one in particular looks small, too.

It's probably a child. You shot a child in the leg. A Mimiga child, but still someone who posed absolutely zero threat to you. Secondary orders demand you remove the Mimiga on the Island as a threat, but this one wasn't even that. It was an unnecessary mistake. You're very good at shooting Mimiga, though, so there's no reason to be surprised. You stare at the kid hyperventilating on the ground. You were planning on interrogating them. This wasn't an order. This wasn't necessary. And yet somebody is still hurt.

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Injured Mimiga

[] Just leave them.
Don't make things any worse than you already have. You need to be efficient anyways.
[x] Try to perform basic first-aid.
You know what you're doing. Mimiga are tough, they'll live, and you don't have the time or justification to do anything more for someone who you're not ordered to help.
[x] Take them with you…
-[x] …and try to return them to wherever they came from.
Mimiga are communal. Whatever village this one comes from will be able to care for them better than you.
-[] …and keep them with you.
There's no guarantee that they have anywhere to go, and it's less likely that they would tell you after what just happened. You'll need to figure out how to feed them, then…
[] Write-in.

Machine Learning - File 1, Entry 8 - Upload

The Mimiga continues to breathe sharply. They must be hyperventilating. You know that that's not healthy, but not if it'll complicate existing injuries. Medical training was never a priority. You and your squadmates didn't need medical services, and nobody would assign one of you to a job where it was necessary. It wasn't what you were built for. This isn't the first time you've cursed your designers for their terrible decisions, but usually the cause was them including unnecessary human features that you didn't need. It's a new form of irritation to be missing something.

"Mimiga," you command. "steady your breathing. You need to be calmer."

This does not help. The Mimiga's breathing doesn't slow down at all. You move closer to inspect them, only for the leporine creature to shy away from you. Their eyes are fixed on your gun, now holstered at your side. Their injured leg drags against the cold ground, and you feel a sudden pang of sympathy from your own damaged frame. There is very little less agonizing than having a body that does not do as you wish it to. Unfortunately, you don't know much about how to fix a living creature.

"Stop moving so much. It's unproductive." you say. The Mimiga starts trying to crawl away from you and you wince. That didn't come out the way you wanted it to. How can you phrase this properly? "I am trying to help you, but you need to move less."

There. That's entirely clear and impossible to misunderstand.

For some reason, the Mimiga continues to crawl away from you. Probably because you have no idea what you're doing and can't even get your actual subordinates to listen to you when you have something important to say. Clearly you'll need to fall back onto one of your actual skills if you're going to help them.

You step closer to the panicked rabbit. This feels like a bad idea, but you don't know how to help somebody calm down. They breathe faster as you approach, batting uselessly at you with their paws. You ignore their efforts. Without the Red Flowers, Mimiga aren't especially strong even as adults. Pinning the diminutive creature down and stopping their thrashing is easy. With that issue resolved, you take a look at their wounded leg.

The skin isn't obviously broken, and the leg is still shaped like a regular leg. Or at least a regular rabbit leg, which would be a very bad shape for a regular human's leg. You lean in closer, keeping your body positioned to pin down the Mimiga while you ruffle through their fur around the impact zone to get a better look at the skin. A bruise is already forming. Apparently that can be a sign of internal bleeding, but it also just happens naturally sometimes. Biology is confusing. Whatever the case, there's not much you can do now. You don't carry any medical equipment.

"Your leg is not broken. It will recover naturally, but you need to stop trying to move it." you command the rabbit. Finally, they actually listen. They're still breathing too fast, but that's not something that living creatures can actually control so you'll give them a pass. With the resistance gone, you separate from the grounded Mimiga briefly and scoop them up off the ground with your less-damaged arm. Immediately, the flailing resumes.

"Stop. Stop it." you request. The Mimiga does not stop. Instead, they do something else.

They speak.

"No! Lemme go, you creepy thing!"

"I'm not creepy. My model is made to accurately replicate the appearance of a regular human." you correct the Mimiga. Unless they're talking about all the damage you've received, which would be disturbing from a biological perspective. Living creatures are not meant to lose half of their skin and continue walking around.

"You're creepy! You're a creepy robot!" the Mimiga insists.

"I'm not."

"You are!"

"That's incorrect."

"Nuh-uh!"

This is extremely unproductive.

"…sure. Whatever you say."

"That's right! You're creepy!" the Mimiga solemnly announces to the world. Their voice (her voice, you're sure) bounces off the lifeless walls of the Egg Corridor. There's nobody else to hear them. Their squirming has stopped, nervous energy spent on the pointless debate earlier. "Now let me go."

"If you walk, you'll hurt your leg. I'm going to carry you." you explain. The Mimiga child huffs in dissatisfaction.

"And why should I let you do that? You're a creepy killer robot, I'm not gonna do what you say!" they claim. Children aren't usually this confident, are they? You haven't encountered a lot of children, but this must be unusual.

"Yes, you will." you reply. A refreshing change-up from 'no'. "It's the smartest decision. Where do you live?"

"Why do you wanna know?" the Mimiga asks.

"I'm going to return you to wherever that is. What else would I do?" you say. What happens after that is more difficult. Even if it's only a secondary order, you have an obligation to remove any threat posed by the Mimiga population on the Island. If the village or whatever it is they have is small, you'll be able to leave it alone. If it's too developed, then you'll be required to act.

It's still better than keeping the girl with you. You have no idea how to care for a Mimiga child, or any child whatsoever for that matter. More importantly, she would slow you down in finding your squadmates and completing your mission.

Really, you should be interrogating the girl more thoroughly. It wouldn't be worth it, though. A child is unlikely to have any useful information, which is a perfectly logical justification for postponing the interrogation as long as you deem necessary.

The Mimiga girl considers your inquiry deeply before donning an extremely unconvincing smile. You don't really care as long as they're not making helping more difficult.

"I live in a village with Zett! We're over that way!" she says, voice shaking as she points towards the piles of crates and boxes that fill the Egg Corridor's main body, away from the nearby door. You wonder how far this little girl managed to run from home before you ran into her. It can't be that much of a distance. Carrying somebody will slow you down, though.

"We'll go that way, then." you confirm. "Don't move too much and don't make noise."

With that said, you take aim and leap towards the lowest opening in the wall of crates. Landing is jarring, unsteady with the weight of a second person added in, and you nearly fall back through the gap before righting yourself. On the other end of the passage, the Egg Corridor stretches out as far as you can see. You barely notice the Mimiga girl staring at you, barely-concealed fear momentarily overshadowed by awe. Somewhere inside your machinery, a spark of something warms your frame. That's right. You are an amazing machine. More people should look at you like that.

There's no time for those distractions right now, though. You have a long road ahead of you.

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On The Road

[x] Interrogate the Mimiga
[] Don't Interrogate the Mimiga

Data Recovery
Restoring memories. . . . .
[x] Commander Syn
[x] Curly Brace
[] Quote