
It had been three days since you had awoken. The ship was still quiet, except for the low hums of enigmatic machines with no apparent purpose. You awake, like usual, to dim lighting and poor rations. Perhaps being on the ship had grown monotonous — it was, perhaps, amazing how little anything seemed to happen in space, a final frontier of malaise.
That monotony is crushed by a voice echoing through the narrow hallways.
Reformatting . . .
Reformatting . . .
Reformatting complete. The Pygmalion is online. Welcome, travelers. Please assemble in the meeting room. Your presence is mandatory.Silence falls once again. A minute or so passes, and the lights around the ship finally brighten, the walls looking more alive and more unfamiliar — as if you must relearn the ship's interior once again. The robots on deck begin to make rounds, nudging and pushing at the ship's passengers to make their way to the meeting room. You hear the doors behind you lock. It seems there is only one path to take.
ENTER COMMAND_
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[ maybe she just has high expectations of AI, seeing as aigis had grown and changed, eventually breaking free of her programming to see what was truly right and wrong. but right now, her patience has no time for this one. ]
What if I- someone has nowhere to return to? If their fate was already sealed before you dragged them here?
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I ask for your patience. I understand that this is a stressful situation for you, but this is a question I am currently unable to answer. In due time, all will make sense, Minako Arisato.
no subject
[ she probably won't in reality, but... it's the thought that counts? ]