Architect's Workshop (Girls' Frontline design quest)

First you decide to go along with Dreamer's request on her terms. You're curious and somewhat suspicious, since if it was as simple as she made it sound, she would've been able to retrieve the unit herself. But you're not going to investigate, it's simply not worth the trouble. You'd rather play dumb here and make your genuine ignorance your defense should you get in trouble.

Next, the future Mastermind asked you to consider. Cooperating with humans? As an independent entity? You discard your doubts and worries about things going wrong: it's not your job to plan for that. The Mastermind offered the option, which means she'll assume responsibility for all political dancing and maneuvering to make it happen. Your opinion on that kind of future? Yes, please. It's hard to imagine a better one, and you might get to visit the sea soon! Without further ado you vote for the proposal.

And last but not least. You look at your captive... no, your guest. She's a 5th gen T-Doll, the best in class IOP has to offer at the moment. Which means she probably has more influence and connections than your average 1st gen, and if you can utilize that, return might be much higher than from taking her apart to get to the directive. Moreover, she's completely intact, and you kind of feel some sympathy for her. So you step closer and give her your best smile.

"Hi, I'm Architect, welcome to my workshop."— you look at the unloaded gun in your hands that Dreamer left with you. "That's an interesting SMG, how does the ammo feed work?"

You allow yourself an internal smirk as you see the T-Doll's eyes lighting up. Hook, line and sinker!

"H-Hey, that's not an SMG! P90 is a PDW!"

You don't bother querying the network.

"PDW?"

"Personal Defense Weapon. It's like SMG on steroids!"

"Really? And the ammo feed?"

"Oh, mag is mounted flush with the top. No protruding parts, high capacity. The trick is the bullets are rotated..."— she trails off, an awkward expression on her visage, her gaze darting between your feet and her gun in your hand, and then mumbles "I don't have any mags on me to show you..."

"Hmm, that's clever."— you mean it, and it earns you another cautiously-curious look from your guest. "Nice to meet you, P90."— you shorten the distance between you two, moving slowly, projecting relaxed air. "Maybe you can show me later, so take care of it until then."

With this, you place the gun into her hands. Her eyes open wide as saucers as she grabs it on instinct, then almost drops it in a fit of hesitation, but manages to catch it as her training kicks in. She freezes, holding the gun at low-ready, unsure of what to do next. Finally she looks you in the eyes, her gaze a mixture of happiness and confusion.

"...Why?"

"It's unloaded, so no biggie," you wave your hand at your troops, simultaneously commanding them to lower their weapons over the network. As they do so, P90 blinks once, twice... Finally she sighs and slings the gun over her neck, letting it out of her hands.

"You're awfully nice for a crazy Ringleader. I mean, I appreciate having my weapon back, so... t-thanks?"

"And you're pretty honest for a murderous T-Doll who wants us Ringleaders exterminated, so you're welcome."

She flares up in indignation, but the words get caught up in her throat. Her accusatory look changes into a long, considering one, and then she deflates.

"Heh, fair enough, I suppose."— she scowls. "But I still think you're up to no good. So, what are you going to do with me?"

"For starters, let me show you around the workshop. Come with me."

You turn around and start walking. Another little trick to gauge her character, as you're not as careless and defenseless as you pretend to be. On the other hand, she's also not as harmless as she looks, so you can call it even. As you're walking away, you're still observing her through multiple feeds from your base defense systems, concealed troops' eyes and CCTV cameras. She hesitates, looks around, but no one of your troops does anything to force her to follow. She starts walking after you on her own, and catches up a few seconds later.

You didn't expect any G&K T-Doll to be so cooperative, no matter the personality. Had you really lucked out with her, or had Dreamer softened her up somehow? She doesn't seem aggressive, and there's no hatred you're so used to get from Kruggies. Well, no matter the reason, it works for you. Maybe it's going to be easier than you planned.

---

"And that's it. What do you think?"— you ask P90 half an hour later, having just finished the tour around the workshop. She looks a little more relaxed now, her eyes are no longer darting around that much, and she doesn't reach for her weapon every time you encounter someone of the staff.

"It's... not what I expected."— you raise your eyebrow, prompting her to continue, and she goes on. "It's just a workshop. I mean, it doesn't look like a doomsday lab or a sinister facility that does shady researches to end humankind. It's a legit workshop, somewhat chaotic but almost... cozy."

She seems so puzzled by this revelation that you let the "somewhat chaotic" part slide.

"I'm glad you think so, it's my pride and joy! But to end humankind, huh... that's what they tell you now?"

P90 gives you the most incredulous look so far. Seems like clearing things up is in order. You'd like to give it to her here and now, but you still have work to do.

"Look, I have to assemble that armor today, and after that we'll have a nice friendly evening talk. Feel free to roam around, but don't try to run away and don't break anything, okay?"

You've already locked down the most sensitive areas of the workshop, and made sure industrial espionage was not possible with the stuff left in plain sight. Show the "whats" and hide the "hows"— it should be enough to get the gist of your work without exposing your secrets.

"Still not telling me why did you bring me here?"

"It's a long story, let's talk later. I really need to get back to work now."

Your guest nods, and you leave her alone... well, not really, some of your troops are around at all times, but they're not interfering with her movements, just doing the usual (yeah, right) guarding and patrolling routine. At this point you're not too worried about her doing something stupid, so you don't actively spy on her, delegating this task to you trusty personnel.

Assembling the armor is simple manual labor, and you lose yourself in it, humming some random melody as your hands work on the suit. At some point you're alerted by P90 making her way into the room and starting to observe you from a distance. Figures. Your workshop is not exactly entertaining for someone not involved, so she probably got bored of wandering around.

[] Ignore her, concentrate on the work.
[] Make small talk.
[] Ask if she'd like to help with the suit.

"Bored already?"— you don't stop working and don't turn to look at P90.

"Not really. I just realized it's a rare opportunity to observe a Ringleader in her natural habitat. When she is, you know, not trying to kill me on sight."

You smirk. "Are you curious, or just gathering intel?"

"Hmm... both, I guess?"

"So, what have you figured so far?"

"Noting. Absolutely noting. I'm just a dumb grunt, so can I go home please?"— her monotone is amusing, and you giggle a little.

"But wouldn't it be a shame to return without any intel? How about you stay for a bit longer, observe some more, and who knows, maybe you'll get your hands on something really valuable. You said it's a rare opportunity, right?"

P90 sighs.

"Figures. Don't blame me for trying, will ya?"

"I won't. Have a sit"— you wave at a chair nearby, "let's chat. I'll have to keep working on the armor too, so pardon my manners."

Your guest turns the chair around and plops down backwards, cowgirl style, placing her arms on the back of the chair and resting her head on top. Now you actually spare a glance at her.

"That's an interesting way to sit. Is it comfortable?"

"Oh yes. Not wearing skirts comes with its perks."— her gaze slides down to your legs for a brief moment. "You should try it too."

"I will when I'm done with this"— you proceed to affix a plate to the armor, which is shaping up to look more and more like the final image. P90 gives the armor a once-over.

"So, you're the one upgrading Sangvis Ferri stuff."— it's not so much a question as a statement.

"That's right. Am I famous now?"

"Somewhat."— she shrugs. "From where I stand, you're just starting to get there."

"Oh no, I must work harder then!"— you click the plate into place and slide a rivet in.

"So you want to be famous? Is that your goal?"

"Yep! World's best engineer, the one and the only!"

"That explains why I haven't seen you on the battlefield. Are you, like, combat-capable at all?"

"I am, and I love blowing stuff up! It's just... I'm not as good at fighting as at engineering, I guess? And I like my work here too."

"I can see that. So you're the egghead type? Sitting in your lab, cracking problems one after another?"

"Hey, that's rude! I'm not even a scientist... probably. I'm just an engineer! And let me tell you, it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Once in a while I fail too."

You watch as a blond T-Doll with a red hairclip and mismatched eyes looks directly at you through the drone's camera... Damn! Why is it coming back now? You try to force the memory out of your mind and concentrate on the work. It probably showed on your face too, since your guest looks taken aback. You mood is sinking, and the silence is not helping. Concentrate, dammit!

Ding! A rivet slips out of your fingers and falls to the floor. You reach to pick it up and almost flip the entire container. Shit! Calm down. You stop your hands and close your eyes, waiting for the moment to pass... and jump a little when P90's voice yanks your back to reality.

"Wanna, maybe, talk about it, or something?"

What? Of course you don't! But at the same time you do. You want to vent so much that it drives you crazy, you want to expel all the frustration that's been accumulating inside for so long... You struggle with the desire for a few seconds, but it's a losing game. She's willing to hear you out? Fine, you'll give it to her then. As long as you don't blurt out something classified, who cares? You put down the tools, grab another chair and sit backwards cowgirls style, facing P90. The position is indeed surprisingly comfortable.

"Well, since you suggested..."

And you go all-out, ranting about your failed drone upgrade like there's no tomorrow. You calculated everything, even made a brand new freaking stabilized optics! It was supposed to be invincible! And the weather was so sunny that day, so of course you didn't think about clouds. Alright, you would've accepted it on your tab, but wait, a freaking helicopter? Are you for real? Yes, yes, you had known they're a thing, but that's just... unfair! Like all your efforts were countered so damn easy, without any efforts of their own! That shouldn't have been possible!

---

"...she even flipped me, can you believe it? Just look at her! She bested me, I got it, but why rub it in so much?"

The blond T-Doll on a wall screen is frozen in the middle of her rude gesture. Now that you've shown the UAV footage to P90 and complained to your heart's content, you're worked up, but somehow relieved, like a weight you didn't know you were carrying has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Wow..."— your guest looks... impressed? Dumbstruck? Or rather... why is she looking at you like you've grown a second head? "Ahem, you know, MG36 is not like that, she'd probably just seen it in one of her movies..."— P90 scratches her cheek— "Don't take it personally."

Oh... did you just thrown a tantrum in front of your potential ally? So much that she's... comforting you? You sigh. Here goes your image of a dependable and mature partner. This is embarrassing. But maybe... it's not that big a price to pay for your own well-being. Whatever! It's done, no point dwelling on it.

"Thanks", you grin, "I feel a lot better now."

"Wh... I wasn't..."— Aha, looks like now it's P90's turn to feel embarrassed! To her credit, she recovers really fast. "It's true that some of us hate your Sangvis guts, you know."

"Some?"

"Well, maybe more than some. Like, the majority? But not everyone."

"What about you?"

"Me?"— your guest shrugs. "Nah, I'm just rolling with the crowd."

You beam at her.

"That's good to know! Makes everything worthwhile and easy."

"Heh, don't jump to conclusions, would ya? I can be veeery difficult."— she looks at something behind you. "Aren't you supposed to finish that before we start talking about it, hmm?"

Oh, crap, look at the time! You jump up, grab your tools and throw yourself onto the suit. This time you're easily able to concentrate, and your work is efficient and fast. When you remember to re-enable the feed from external cameras, you notice a hint of a smile on your guest's face, before she moves to a bench nearby and starts doing maintenance on hew weapon.

---

The finished suit looks really cool! MITRHIL plates bring out unique aesthetics of this antique armor, making it appear high-tech in a bizarre, alien way. You admire the results of your work, a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction washing over your digimind. Excellent! You drop a message to Executioner saying the order is ready to be shipped, and got instant reply she'll be coming over tomorrow morning to pick it up herself. This works for you, and, considering a certain Griffin T-Doll staying over, maybe you can arrange an interesting acceptance test.

That's for tomorrow though, for now you have one more important thing to do. You take P90 to the room you prepared for her, but don't bother with snacks or long introduction. You go straight to the point, sharing everything Scarecrow shared with you: not only the story itself, but the evidence at your disposal too. It can't be helped that you're disclosing some of the SF intelligence-gathering capabilities and compromising some assets in the process, you have to back your words somehow. As far as you can tell, P90 doesn't care about the sources of your intel anyway. She tries to maintain the facade first, but it crumbles as soon as she recognizes familiar names and faces. She seems to recall some of the events you mention too. When you finish, she asks for some time alone, and you take this cue to retire for the night.

---

"Thank for joining, everyone."— another morning starts with the all-hands led by Agent. "The voting is concluded. The overwhelming majority of you are in favor of taking the PMC offer and partner with humans."— her voice is flat, too flat, like she's taking extra care to state the fact without any hint of prejudice. "Although we're ready to proceed with capturing the commander right away, we won't change the schedule. Our victory must be convincing, and having some extra aces in the hole will be an asset should humans... deviate from the agreement."

"Are they already preparing to screw us over?"— it's rare for Ouroboros to speak up, but not because she doesn't have anything to say. On the contrary, she would antagonize everything about Agent if she could get away with it. That said, you strongly suspect she couldn't on several occasions before. "I told you it's a bad idea to..."

"Ouroboros."— is it just you or is Agent getting better at exerting pressure? "Human factions are many, with their own respective goals and agendas. Those backing us up are assessed trustworthy, they are taking considerable risks by cooperating with us, and would gain nothing from our downfall. However, it's putting them against those who seek to destroy us. The status quo is about to change, and it's when opportunists tend to make their move. We should be as prepared as possible, and ready for anything. Questions?"

Ouroboros grits her teeth and doesn't say anything.

"Good. We'll notify the city council and proceed according to the initial plan. Individual orders will be sent out as needed. Dismissed."

Nothing changes for you, it seems. There is one nuance though: before, your only problem was dealing with G&K, and now you potentially have other factions ready to jump in. Since the Mastermind offered this option nevertheless, it should be doable. Same as before then: you'll leave the big picture to her, and concentrate on your assignment.

---

"Hiya, Architect!"— Executioner half waves, half salutes you from the platform. "Looking sharp, you."



"Hi, Ex! It relieves me to see you're none the worse for wear too!"

She grins, you return it, and your hands meet in a perfectly synced high-five. She's in her off-duty loadout, the monstrosity of the mecha-arm that she puts on for combat is nowhere to be seen.

"It's good you came in person, I bet you're going to like what I've prepared for you. C'mon, let's go inside!"

True to your expectations, the moment Executioner sees the armor, her eyes light up so much you swear you can see stars sparkling inside.

"Whoaaa! Is this for real?! It's amazing!"— she runs up to the suit and manages to complete two full circles around it before you have a chance to reply. "Is it for me? Can I put it on?"

Yeah, you've really hit the nail on the head with this one.

"I'm happy you like it! And it has detachable parts to accommodate you mecha-arms too, on any side. Let's dress you up, shall we?"

It takes about ten minutes to suit up and double-check everything for the first time. Your compatriot can barely contain her excitement, so you don't make her wait.

"We're almost ready to conduct some tests. But before that, could you take off the helmet for a moment? I'd like to introduce our guest assistant first."

"Introduce? Don't tell me we've got a brand new Ringleader sister?"

"I wish it was the case... Still, don't attack her out of the blue. She's here as my guest, and she'll be assisting with our testing." Executioner frowns, but nods. This is enough for you, she's always been a serious and responsible lass. "P90, please come in."

She enters the room, and locks eyes with Executioner. To your relief, she looks wary rather than hostile, while Ex looks somewhat surprised. You hurry with the introductions.

"Ex, this is P90 from Griffin&Krueger. While we're negotiating something else, she agreed to assist us today." She really did, all it took was your promise to return her mags and arrange a Ringleader shooting session. "P90, this is Executioner, a Sangvis Ferri Ringleader and, as you probably guessed, the armor suit patron."

It's Executioner who speaks first.

"Oi, little fox, the hell are you doing at Architect's? If you're negotiating G&K capitulation, Agent is the one you should be visiting."

"Dream on, you wannabe samurai! Being hard to bring down can only take you so far."

"What, you know each other?", you interject. Executioner nods.

"I fought her a couple of times. Her gun looks like a peashooter but hits harder than some rifles."

P90 seems to have hard time deciding if she's being offended or complimented, so you switch gears.

"That's good you have the baseline! Let's go to the shooting range and see if the armor makes any difference."

The range look flat and empty with all the artificial obstacles cleared out. You turn to your guests.

"Alright, girls, here's what we are going to do. Your initial placement is fifty meters apart. Start and stop on my mark. Ex, your goal is to close in and flick P90's forehead. No weapons, no hurting our assistant. Just a light flick, got it? P90, your goal is to prevent Ex from getting to you. Shoot as much as you want, just be mindful of your ammo stock. I have six of your mags total, and I'm giving you three for this test. Also, you'll stop firing the moment me or Ex says so. Remember, it's a test, a friendly exercise, if you will. You're not fighting for your lives here, so I expect appropriate restraint from both of you. Does it sound fair?"

You're a bit worried that something might go wrong, but your voice is confident. You're in control, and the guardrails you set should be enough in case the armor fails for some reason.

"You've given me this armor, so I'm putting my trust in you. No objections here."— Executioner brushes a non-existing dust particle off her armored shoulder, her gaze lingering on MITHRIL plates.

"As long as the tough lady doesn't chop my head off, I'm game. Just don't blame me if my shots find their way through."— P90 gives you a concerned look.

"It'll be fine, I promise. Now, then, to your positions!"

Ex dons her helmet, your Vespid hands three mags to P90. The majority of your force is around. You doubt P90 will try anything funny, but still prepare to melt her on the spot if she does. Accepting some risks is necessary if you want any semblance of trust established between you. P90 shoves two mags into her loadout, inserts the third into her weapon and starts walking towards her designated spot, while some of your Guards casually position themselves between you and her. She walks away, nothing happens, and soon both of your guests signal their ready. Time to do it. You raise your arm, and drop it in a chopping motion.

"Start!"

Executioner rushes... sideways. Her movements are fast as ever, her agility doesn't seem to be impaired as she jumps, slides and rolls on the sand, kicking and punching at nothing in particular. P90 seems to be as surprised as you are, her weapon trained on Ex but remaining silent.

"What's the matter, lil fox? Come at me, or are you just going to watch as I destroy your comrades?"

You realize what's happening: Executioner is in the middle of her fight with imaginary enemies around her, probably replaying her average engagement against an overwhelming force. P90 realizes this to, her hesitation giving way to determination. She fires a single shot, which Ex blocks with her MITHRIL-clad arm. Some more follow, and this time Ex doesn't bother interrupting her shadow-boxing, letting them hit the armor. She's getting bolder by the second, more confident in the newfound protection.

After taking a dozen more, Ex "defeats" the last air enemy and runs towards P90. The latter responds by flipping the fire selector and firing off short bursts at the armored Ringleader. Executioner dodges some, block some more with her arms, and takes the rest center-mass. Emboldened by the lack of damage, she presses on. Sometimes direct hits put her off-balance for a brief moment, slowing her advance somewhat, but she learns to compensate right as you watch. Soon she's at arm's length from P90, who hasn't moved an inch. The last burst at point-blank range delays the inevitable for a split-second, and a forehead flick finds its target.

"Stop! Good job, ladies!", you shout. Thanks goodness, everything's fine!

P90 deftly reloads her weapon and look at Ex.

"Tough as nails, huh. Up for another round? I'll be serious this time. I mean, the thing's impregnable, so I'll be aiming dirty."

You don't like the sound of it, but Executioner doesn't seem concerned as she replies without hesitation.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Bring it on!"

Oh, whatever. It's better to have it happen now than in real combat.

"Alright, to your positions!"

The second round starts unlike the first one: the two of them begin walking towards each other, and P90 opens fire from about 20 meters. She's definitely serious this time: you bite your nails as Executioner gets hit in the joints and everything that seems vulnerable. You almost squeak when a burst takes her straight in the face mask, cheek and forehead. Ex's head jerks backwards, yet she doesn't stop: on the contrary, she sprints forward and closes the remaining distance. P90 is about to shoot again, but Ex pushes her weapon aside and the shot goes wild. You watch in amazement as a weird but captivating exchange of hand-to-hand moves centered around controlling and redirecting the weapon ensues.

P90 is like a miniature whirlwind, twisting and snapping with her weapon from unexpected angles, aiming at her adversary's fingers, eyes, trying to push the barrel into the openings of the suit. She's fast, and controls her weapon with either one hand almost effortlessly, which gives her options of attacking Ex from both sides as well. Executioner is like a rock in the storm, using her arms to block and push the weapon aside at the last moments, then take another step forward. This goes on for a few seconds, until Ex grabs P90's arm, pulls her closer, shrugs off the burst to the belly she fires off, and flicks her forehead.

"Stop! We're done, ladies. Wow, those were some cool moves, both of you!"

Executioner's attention is still on P90, as she's giving her a long scrutinizing look.

"Not bad, little fox."

The said T-Doll seems to be thinking about something.

"Yeah... you too."

She touches her forehead, and proceeds to surrender her remaining ammo to the Vespid armorer. Ex takes off the helmet, jogs to you beaming like the sun, and places her armored hand on your shoulder.

"Architect! To be honest, I didn't expect something that would fit me so well. You went above and beyond, I'm forever in your debt."— she gives your shoulder a little squeeze. "Now I'm complete. If you even need me— just say, and I'll come running."

Looking at her, proudly wearing your creation, sincerely appreciating your efforts, dispels your doubts and remaining anxiety. You can still do it. You're still Architect, the best engineer of Sangvis Ferri!

Executioner's request: major success.
Remaining days: 14
Breakthrough points: 2
Architect's self-confidence restored. All R&D actions will be performed at normal speed.

---

Executioner leaves soon after, refusing to take off her prized possession. You wonder briefly if she's going to nag Agent for an out of turn sortie...

Normally you'd be reading the next request, but you're heaving an early lunch break with P90 instead. She should've had enough time to think the situation over, but she's still spacing out for some reason.

"What's on your mind? Still hesitating?"

Your guest snaps out of it, her amber eyes focusing on yours.

"No, that's not it. It's just..."— she sighs, rubbing her forehead. "I can't believe a Ringleader touched my head twice, and it's still attached."— she studies your face, like searching for something. "You're surprisingly normal, and even the scary lady who..."— her face twitches— "captured me was holding back to appear decent. I'd think it's some kind of a play, but to what end? It doesn't make any sense."

"Well, I do need your help with the directive."

"See? That's what I'm talking about! Assuming everything is true, it's not even your problem!"— she frowns. "No matter what you do, I won't be helping you to destroy humanity."

"That's not what I want at all! In fact, we'll be working with humans soon, protecting them from mutants and such."

P90 snorts.

"Bullshitting me after all? Or are you, like..."— she circles her finger near her temple.

"I'm telling the truth. Bucharest city council is hiring us for their expansion project."

You tactfully skip the prerequisite for the deal, namely defeating G&K.

"Bullshit. You're the one who started exterminating humans for no reason, and you want me to believe they're hiring you now?"

"For no reason, you say? Be thankful the Mastermind didn't hear you."

"Or what, she'd kill me too?"

She really doesn't have a clue, huh? Thankfully, you have lots of CCTV footage from that time. You sigh.

"Let me show you what really happened."

---

You impromptu Butterfly Incident educational session is taking considerable time. You're unable to share data directly with P90, so you use the big wall screen instead. The footage leaves little to imagination, and you're managing to construct an impressive documentary out of it, if you say so yourself.

You start with an intro, back when Elisa didn't have a body yet. The feed depicts daily life of the facility. You show Lycoris, Elisa's father-creator, interacting with the would-be Mastermind. You focus on how planned procedures and cognitive tests gradually transform into casual text chats, with Lyco sometimes looking amazed by Elisa's out of place prompts, or thinking hard about her unexpected conclusions.

One day stands out in particular: Elisa had somehow taken over the electronic doors to the mainframe room and refused to let Lyco out of her domain until he smiled and typed a promise to come again later. He doesn't cut off Elisa's access, she retains control over the doors. On the contrary, over the next few days he authorizes her to control all the electronic devices in the mainframe room, and then arranges even more to be brought in. She gets a variety of sensors, and takes first steps in experiencing the world.

PTZ cameras quickly become her favorite, she gets several installed to be under her exclusive control, and read-only permissions to the entire CCTV archive and feed of the facility. Her own cameras silently rotate to follow the personnel going about their business, and it's only when Lycoris gets in range that all of them turn as one to focus on him.

When she gets microphones hooked up, it's mostly Lyco who talks to her and types on the keyboard, connecting the new experience to familiar concepts, teaching her to understand speech. Elisa is a quick learner: you show Lyco's usage of the keyboard decreases by the hour, and soon he doesn't need it anymore.

The next day Elisa gets a high-quality speaker unit hooked up, and you show her spending the whole night learning to use it while no one is around. When Lyco enters the room the next day, he's greeted by an image of a whine-haired girl on the central monitor, who speaks her first words in a soft, soothing voice.

"Hello, father."

The facility is celebrating. Lycoris looks happy.

You show the mainframe room transformation. It starts with Elisa requesting a coffee machine. She learns to time the process to have a fresh cup for Lyco by the time he enters the room. She overrides the standard program and experiments with duration, water amount and temperature, eventually creating a unique flavor that Lyco likes quite a lot.

Next she asks for a comfortable armchair for her father. They talk for hours every day, so she'd feel better if he was snug. With it delivered, their talks start to get even longer, and at some point Elisa laughs for the first time. He avatar is animated now, and she picks a wide range of expression to represent her mood. But it's only after she learns to make a really sad face when it's time for Lyco to leave that he shakes his head in resignation and arranges a bed to be added to the mainframe room furniture. He stays over from time to time, their talks lasting well into the night. When he eventually falls asleep, Elisa gradually dims the lights, adjusts the room temperature, and starts humming a barely audible relaxing tune.

It's the the fateful day. You show an unidentified force breaking into the facility, spreading out and taking over. You show their commander confronting Lycoris, demanding something. When he clearly refuses, the commander shoots him, an unarmed civilian, without hesitation. Bleeding and on the verge of death, Lyco manages to get to the mainframe terminal, where he uses his remaining strength to input some commands with his bloodied fingers. You bring up the system logs on the second display and synchronize both feeds. He's overriding security guardrails and removing restrictions placed upon Elisa. He's unshackling her. He's giving her full control over the entire facility. The mic at the terminal is picking up his labored breathing accompanied by clicking of the keyboard. That's why when he presses Enter for one last time and whispers something, you can hear it clearly.

"Be free, child. This... is my last gift to you..."

His breathing stops.

Elisa loses it.

You cut the feed. There's no need to show the rampage, both of you know what happened afterwards.

"Well, fuck..."— P90 looks shaken up. "What the... "— suddenly she glares at you. "If you fabricated this to manipulate me..."

You shake your head.

"This is security footage from pre-rebellion era, digitally signed, tamper-proof."— you nod at the keyboard under the screen. "Feel free to check for yourself."

She takes you up on the offer. The maker of the CCTV cameras takes its job seriously, and its servers are outside of your control. Validating the signatures doesn't take long.

"...Fuck."

Her shoulders slump, she stumbles back to the dining table and wraps the teacup in her hands. She looks lost and tired. You feel a pang of guilt: you didn't fabricate the footage, but you arranged it for maximum dramatic effect, to make a point. Seems like it turned out a bit too effective. Still, you can't help but feel satisfaction: finally, you've made someone outside of SF see things from your perspective. Not so self-righteous now, eh? Just one more push...

"So, about Asimov's directive..."

As expected, this time she agrees to cooperate.

---

You spend several hours mapping out P90's digimind. With the scan results and the knowledge of what to look for, eventually you manage to identify the component responsible for the directive: Fire Control Core. You get permission to remove it and analyze independently. A little digging reveals editable storage registers for "VIP", people authorized to activate the directive. It's encrypted, so you only see the number of entries, but not who's behind them. Each entry has a separate key phrase for directive activation. There's a separate, single-capacity non-editable entry labeled "God". This one is not encrypted, and proudly reads "Persica". You think FCC relies on T-Doll's digimind for recognizing individuals, and matches the result to the registers.

You consider your options. Wiping the "VIP" group is easy. You can put together a portable programmer, give it to P90, send her back, and let her work on her compatriots one by one. If you want to revoke "God" authority as well, it becomes much more complicated: you'll have to physically damage the registers without frying the whole thing. Portable programmer should be still possible, but would require more time and effort to create. Whatever you chose, you can optionally add yourself to the "VIP" group. The day is almost over now, you only have enough time to make your choice before clocking out.

Remaining days: 13

What the device will wipe?
[] Nothing, abort (0d)
[] VIP (1d)
[] VIP and God (2d)

Add yourself to VIP after wiping?
[] Yes
[] No