[ When 9S finally stirs, he realizes he doesn’t feel cold anymore. He doesn’t remember as much as he feels he should, just evanescent moments of flickering in and out of consciousness in the snow, feeling that something was not quite right with any of his physical processes, but not quite lucid enough to piece anything together. So he has to reboot himself the best he can, slowly bringing himself online, senses coming in one at a time as he navigates his mental space and forces himself into wakefulness.
And when he does wake, he isn’t sure what to make of what he sees. He’s still not fully operational—a strange, electric stiffness in his limbs, his vision limited to shades of grey—and for a moment he thinks he’s back in one of resistance camps, but it takes only a few seconds for him to realize he’s nowhere close to where he’s supposed to be. He… doesn’t even know just what he’s looking at. He tenses automatically, pushing back from underneath the covers despite his lack of mobility, but his functions immediately tell him that whatever sort of thing he is staring at is very much organic. Nothing he can hack into and attempt to destroy or take over. And it’s talking to him in a language he understands. The whole experience feels surreal. Even the aroma in the air is unfamiliar to him.
Maybe he needs to another reboot. ]
Beach? [ He tries to remember, squinting as his eyes try to adjust to the light. Find his voice. Where’s his pod? ] Just who are you?
[ Though perhaps what would be the more pertinent question. ]
no subject
And when he does wake, he isn’t sure what to make of what he sees. He’s still not fully operational—a strange, electric stiffness in his limbs, his vision limited to shades of grey—and for a moment he thinks he’s back in one of resistance camps, but it takes only a few seconds for him to realize he’s nowhere close to where he’s supposed to be. He… doesn’t even know just what he’s looking at. He tenses automatically, pushing back from underneath the covers despite his lack of mobility, but his functions immediately tell him that whatever sort of thing he is staring at is very much organic. Nothing he can hack into and attempt to destroy or take over. And it’s talking to him in a language he understands. The whole experience feels surreal. Even the aroma in the air is unfamiliar to him.
Maybe he needs to another reboot. ]
Beach? [ He tries to remember, squinting as his eyes try to adjust to the light. Find his voice. Where’s his pod? ] Just who are you?
[ Though perhaps what would be the more pertinent question. ]