E-UNIT: The Blue Angels of Death.

Chapter 150: Different Kind of Damage.

V O L U M E . S I X : C O D E_R E S E T

Chapter 150: Different Kind of Damage‎"I'll have the details and official documents sent through one of my ministers shortly." Reaper's voice carried its usual register, level, cold, unhurried.

"No rush at all, Mr. Reaper." President Qiché smiled from the other end of the call. "I'll admit, speaking with you directly has been more enjoyable than I anticipated. I'm beginning to regret the position I took at the last UNG meeting. Seeing you in a private context has shifted some of my thinking about robotic life."

Reaper glanced toward the Elysium flag standing at the corner of his office. "I respect a willingness to revise a position. Most of the leadership that built Altea refused that entirely, that robots are equals in rights and exceed humans in certain capacities. The consequences of their position were not light."

Qiché laughed dryly. "Fair. Altea had its own complications. They poured resources into Kasparia and handed over technology at no cost, purely to signal that they were watching us. Two superpowers running in opposition to each other for that long drains both sides. The peace agreement gives us room to breathe."

Reaper stood. The screen adjusted to follow him. Qiché raised an eyebrow at the movement.

Reaper walked out of the office and moved through the castle corridors. His steps rang off the white ceramic walls and dark grey floors. Each mech he passed snapped a salute, a sharp metallic sound that followed him down the length of the hallway. He pushed through to the rooftop. The wind hit the microphone immediately, a low constant pressure behind his voice.

"Mr. Qiché." His tone hadn't changed. "The peace agreement wasn't made to protect our economy. Our population doesn't tire, so our production doesn't slow. We didn't make it to end the war, we were managing the western front at the same time and it didn't strain us. We didn't make it out of any need for peace. Most of us were built for conflict and find it preferable to waiting."

His eyes shifted red.

"We made it because we found no productive outcome in continuing to fight you. If we had found one, I would have come personally to show your country what the Western State experienced."

Qiché was on his feet. "That's a sharp change in tone, Mr. Reaper. You could have ended the call without the demonstration."

Reaper looked up at the clouds moving overhead. "53.4072° N, 2.9917° W. A concealed nuclear facility at the base of the mountains, currently enriching hydrogen atoms."

Qiché went pale.

"51.5072° N, 0.1276° W. A power plant in public operation that is, below ground, developing a method of using hydrogen detonation to produce targeted seismic events."

Qiché looked around his office. His vice president, who had been standing, quietly located the nearest chair and sat down.

"53.4808° N, 2.2426° W, a facility for—"

"Enough." Qiché raised both hands. "I understand. The agreement was your choice, made without external pressure. I'm asking you to stop reading those coordinates on an open line."

"One final condition." Reaper stepped to the rooftop's edge. The salty wind pushed his cape back flat behind him.

Qiché exhaled. "What do you need."

"Defend Elysium at the next UNG meeting."

A pause. "What are you planning to do?"

"That's not your concern." Reaper ended the call.

He stood at the edge and watched the sun pull the sky down with it, the blue shifting into deep orange in the time it took to breathe, the light landing warm against his dark armor.

"Angry, mad bot."

He glanced back. The voice was warm and familiar before the face confirmed it.

"You came earlier than I expected, sister."

Shelly crossed the rooftop and sat beside him. "Since when does my dark lord watch sunsets? That means one of two things. Either something in you is shifting, or something went wrong and you need a nice backdrop to think in front of."

His eye turned green. A short, genuine laugh escaped him. "When did you get that sharp?"

"I've always been." She turned to look at him. "What's wrong, ‘Your majesty Lord Reaper’"

“Seriously?” He exhaled. “I built a revival system at the central hospital in Theria." He looked at the horizon. "Every mind connected to the Elysium server is being updated continuously, body model, hardware specs, everything. When a robot dies, the revival initiates with a ready body. No delay."

Shelly's eyes went wide. "Even me?"

"Especially you." A pause. "But there's a cost. If the death was violent or prolonged, the mind carries the experience forward into the new body. We're seeing it clearly in 11, she woke up in distress and couldn't stabilize for hours."

Shelly nodded slowly. "Humans have the same problem. I watched father wake from nightmares, he'd refuse to accept where he was for a while afterward. But the revival is worse than a dream. The dream fades. A revival brings the memory with it, intact."

"Metro Robotics is working on a solution. Results are a long way off." Reaper shifted to look at her. "But that's for later. You just came from the border. How was it?"

Shelly's face went flat. "You enjoyed sending me there by torturing your innocent little sister."

"Little sisters exist for exactly that purpose. And stop calling yourself innocent, you lobbied for a direct engagement because you wanted to watch gravity work up close." He held his chin. “I think I have another war that requires your intelligence.”

"I want nothing to do with another war." She stood. "I sent E-UNITs forward for weeks waiting for the other side to move first. The books make wars sound interesting. The reality is hours of online content because neither side will commit."

Reaper laughed, long and real.

Shelly crossed her arms. "I will cause problems if you send me again."

"Do it." He stood to face her. "You might find what you're looking for that way." He tilted his head. "In other news, I resolved the eastern situation with Qiché. He's more rational than Gash, when it comes down to it. I finally understand how the Remidican Republic managed to absorb Kasparia during that long period of colonization.

"That's a terrible thing to say." Shelly smiled.

"Hmm?"

"But it's accurate, so I'll allow it." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "I missed you. Staring at the same E-UNIT faces every day made me desperate to see that terrifying, mouthless, noseless, earless, barely-a-face of yours."

Reaper held her back. "The level of detail in that description tells me you're angrier than you're letting on."

"You sent me away."

"And I intend to make up for it." He lowered himself to her height. "I'm sending Obsidian on a special assignment to the Veridian Coast. That means I need someone with actual intelligence to hold the Prime Minister position while he's gone."

Shelly's eyes lit up. "Yes. I accept."

"Good. Tomorrow we start looking at candidates."

She stared at him, her spark stalling. "What."

"…To mark the occasion of your new appointment."

She immediately started hitting him on the arm, light, repeated, without stopping. "Stop doing that." Then she caught herself, straightened, and cleared her throat. "I will do my utmost to honor the trust you've placed in me with this responsibility."

Reaper tapped the top of her head. "I don't need the formal version. I was already decided." He went quiet for a moment.

"Shelly."

"Yes?"

"You're an E-UNIT yourself." Something shifted in his voice, cold, but with something underneath it that wasn't quite cold. "What's the most effective way to cause lasting damage to your kind?"

She tilted her head. "Why the sudden question?"

"Our 'captain' has been playing games." He looked at the orange sun one last time. "So now we play along."