It was such a tiny wish...wasn't it?
To be free?
Or was it a dream? Because dreams are there to exist but not be achieved. Forever out of reach, but comforting in their non-reality. Trying to make a dream
reality is dangerous. And as much as she'd thought they might make it, the dream devoured them. Meg, Lou, and Nam...dead on Genaros Station.
...and Sylvie.
Dead because she was trying to keep her alive. Sacrificed so that she could live....if it's life when one lives alone, without any of the people that made
a half-life, an entirely singular existence worth continuing. It was that sacrifice that kept Anri going. Kept her from ending it all herself once even Sylvie
was gone. Priss never came back. She didn't blame her. Too much shared pain, too separate of lives. That was how Sylvie lived. Whatever she put her mind
to, she went all out, experiencing, achieving to the fullest. She'd been a bright, burning flame....that'd snuffed itself out by burning too quickly.
Burning too hot in order to burn through the ropes that had bound them both to death and Anri to her buma body's failings. And with Priss, she'd burned
just as brightly. Made the attachment, lived the friendship, possibly even more, in as little time as she'd had. Wouldn't that have been tragically
ironic? That her love for Anri had cut short the chance she'd had to experience her love for Priss. Perhaps guilt was another reason Anri was just as happy
that Priss didn't ever come back.
But what to do now....work, make a living for herself? Keep living because that's what Sylvie wanted for her? That might have sufficed for a while, until
the despair took hold. But living for the dead was as much a half-life as what'd gone before. She needed to want something. To have something. Something
worth living for.
She needed purpose. And like the angel of mercy he'd been before, Largo once again had come into her life to provide her with a purpose towards which to
direct her life.
So many questions had been answered. Why he'd helped them. Why he'd cared. He was as "human" as she or Sylvie had been. Property in human
form, as GENOM saw it. When he'd heard of Sylvie's death through his channels, he'd sought her out immediately. Confided in her what he was truly
operating towards. And in that, Anri had found her new reason to continue living. Largo sought freedom, but not just for a handful of girls off a space
station. His actions would free their entire people. Buma would no longer be slaves, but a new race, equal to the humans. And while Anri had terrifying
memories of the savage Dobermans aboard Genaros, she recognized that the more intelligent security buma, workers, and others had been as alive as she or Sylvie
had been. They deserved their slavery no more than her friends had.
And so she had agreed to be what Largo needed. A spy within GENOM itself. Only she could infiltrate their location, for only she was a 33-S that could be
mistaken for human even by the closest of medical scans. She had her role to play in the grand design....and through it, she would make Sylvie's sacrifice
mean something.
Anri would be sure she didn't die for nothing.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
To be free?
Or was it a dream? Because dreams are there to exist but not be achieved. Forever out of reach, but comforting in their non-reality. Trying to make a dream
reality is dangerous. And as much as she'd thought they might make it, the dream devoured them. Meg, Lou, and Nam...dead on Genaros Station.
...and Sylvie.
Dead because she was trying to keep her alive. Sacrificed so that she could live....if it's life when one lives alone, without any of the people that made
a half-life, an entirely singular existence worth continuing. It was that sacrifice that kept Anri going. Kept her from ending it all herself once even Sylvie
was gone. Priss never came back. She didn't blame her. Too much shared pain, too separate of lives. That was how Sylvie lived. Whatever she put her mind
to, she went all out, experiencing, achieving to the fullest. She'd been a bright, burning flame....that'd snuffed itself out by burning too quickly.
Burning too hot in order to burn through the ropes that had bound them both to death and Anri to her buma body's failings. And with Priss, she'd burned
just as brightly. Made the attachment, lived the friendship, possibly even more, in as little time as she'd had. Wouldn't that have been tragically
ironic? That her love for Anri had cut short the chance she'd had to experience her love for Priss. Perhaps guilt was another reason Anri was just as happy
that Priss didn't ever come back.
But what to do now....work, make a living for herself? Keep living because that's what Sylvie wanted for her? That might have sufficed for a while, until
the despair took hold. But living for the dead was as much a half-life as what'd gone before. She needed to want something. To have something. Something
worth living for.
She needed purpose. And like the angel of mercy he'd been before, Largo once again had come into her life to provide her with a purpose towards which to
direct her life.
So many questions had been answered. Why he'd helped them. Why he'd cared. He was as "human" as she or Sylvie had been. Property in human
form, as GENOM saw it. When he'd heard of Sylvie's death through his channels, he'd sought her out immediately. Confided in her what he was truly
operating towards. And in that, Anri had found her new reason to continue living. Largo sought freedom, but not just for a handful of girls off a space
station. His actions would free their entire people. Buma would no longer be slaves, but a new race, equal to the humans. And while Anri had terrifying
memories of the savage Dobermans aboard Genaros, she recognized that the more intelligent security buma, workers, and others had been as alive as she or Sylvie
had been. They deserved their slavery no more than her friends had.
And so she had agreed to be what Largo needed. A spy within GENOM itself. Only she could infiltrate their location, for only she was a 33-S that could be
mistaken for human even by the closest of medical scans. She had her role to play in the grand design....and through it, she would make Sylvie's sacrifice
mean something.
Anri would be sure she didn't die for nothing.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."