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Lunamaria Hawke
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Sigma eyed her insignia once again. Nervously, for the ninth time she cleaned the shiny surface, now clouded because of her hands constantly fidgetting, as if it was telling this had been real.
She had not being paying attention at all at the ceremony, being somewhat focused in not appearing gloomy and keeping as much poise as she could after having that fallout with Iota. Conflicting emotions dwelled within her.
In the sidelines, Lorenzo's gaze drifted over the masses, his attention as drawn to them as a colony of ants, when he noticed the slight discomfort that the clone had; as composed as the young girl tried to be, her body language told a different story. When the over-enthusiastic crowds were then dispersed by a couple of shock-baton wielding enforcers and the event came to an end, Lorenzo also took his leave back to the shuttle which would bring him up to NOAH. But of course, he expected her to want to talk to him.
Sigma rubbed her cheeks once more. A small, fleeting memento of what had happened moments ago, with some overeager citizens skipping the security controls only to pinch her, trying to see if the young pilot was a real girl or just an android. That had been quite the event.
However, her mood quickly darkened as she flipped her ID card through a detector. Grimacing, she took a heavy breath as she, once again, went down the belly of the beast. Lorenzo's lair, as some of the most crass staff called it. It had a familiar feeling to it. An eerie familiar feeling. Very much like the facility she was born.
Left and right, she eyed the different walls layered with cables, signs and ocassionally the window to some kind of holding cells, with who knows what they were investigating in there. The fourteen year old wisely decided not to think too much, as she hurried her pace to meet Lorenzo in his office.
She gulped, as she knocked on the door.
A firm voice immediately answered: "Yes? Come in." When Sigma entered the office, she noticed it to be more compact than the one in Solaire, yet it had the exact same atmosphere to it: a shelf filled with old, tattered books, glass containers filled with strange objects and specimens, and the desk was cluttered with papers scattered all over, even to the floor.
Lorenzo quickly glanced from behind an unc-crumpled piece of paper, and gestured for her to take a seat as he forecfully stuck it in a binder before haphazardly throwing it to a pile of identical binders. He then clasped his fingers before him, looking just above them in a grim look. "Is there something you want to discuss with me, Cadet?"
Sigma gulped as she took a seat, her body language that of a child facing a stern parent, as she fumbled to take a sit at the chair. She sit there, rigid as a plank, her stared avoiding Lorenzo, before beginning to talk. "It's about the cores, sir." She meekly said. "During last battle... they seemed to recognize eachother. This happened before the ah... what was the word, onion? Unionization!" Sigma struggled to make herself clear. But no matter how eerie the atmosphere, she had a duty to let Lorenzo know. Each little detail would help in the war.
"The cores?" Lorenzo asked, though more from hismelf than the young pilot. "Hmm...Yes, that would be a necessary prerequisite for something of that caliber to happen...As I recall, it was you who made the decision to use Serah's core as a makeshift projectile, yes? Did you experience something from your Framewerk when it happened?"
"Uh..." Sigma clenched her fist, looking elsewhere. "Actually, using the core was Serah's idea. But I complied... still." Sigma eyed Lorenzo. "She was sad, sir." Sigma replied firmly. "I had the urge to cry. But I couldn't tell my fellow pilot about that kind of mental feedback."
"I see, she was willing to go that far to accomplish the mission." Lorenzo now stood up, and went to grab a specific bottle, containing something that writhed and reacted to the bottle being picked up. He looked at it with disinterest. "It must have been hard on you, but I'm glad you were willing to go through with it. Thanks to your success, my projects were granted more attention, and thus I can continue with my research on this new phenomenon you two have discovered." He placed it back. "Emotions are a natural part of being human...When you take that away, you are left with a husk, a simple ghost in a shell. Completely useless."
"..." Sigma didn't say anything, as she bit her lip. "I was your creation after all. If anything else, what can I do?" The young clone said, her eyes finally meeting Lorenzo's. "...this is a war we cannot lose, Sir."
Lorenzo nodded. "I'm glad we are at an understanding." He went to sit back at his desk. "So, was there anything else?"
"umm..." Sigma fidgetted. "What exactly happened to pilot Sorus? Was that a ... switch??" Sigma added, swallowing hard. It certainly looked the case. That could've explained the secretism and the odd behaviour of the people that surrounded that event.
"Sorus is an unfortunate case brought on by inadequate design and amateur execution. His mental signals are now carried through an unnecessary filter that was formed through a feedback loop with Paladin's processing unit, thus mixing the two up. Fools..." He muttered to himself.
"Uhh..." Sigma strained her brow, trying to understand what Lorenzo was saying. It didn't answer anything at all, as she did not understood a thing of what he had said. And thus, she decided to simply acknowledge it. "Alright, sir."
Lorenzo chuckled, a scary sight from a man of his disposition. "I suggest not trying to ask questions you won't understand the answer to and simply stick to doing your part of the war effort, Cadet Sigma. It would be far more beneficial in our line of work..." He said, and then picked up another piece of paper, seemingly by random, though Sigma noticed that he read it with the kind of interest that suggested deliberate choice. "Dismissed."
The young pilot startled somewhat upon hearing Lorenzo's laughter, her stance freezing in the expression, only to react to Lorenzo's statement. "Yes, sir." She added, as she began walking the other direction. She gritted her teeth, the conversation making her remember unpleasant details.
They really had to win the war. Ariin. Elora. Harold... their sacrifices would not be in vain.