Chapter Text
Love: a strong affection of another.
Warmth: a moderate and comfortable heat.
Can love be warm? Aventurine's heat sensors can pick up on the slightest shifts and drops in temperature. He knows, on a basic level, what warmth feels like. He knows, on a basic level, what love is. The creators believe an android would never be able to experience love the way a human would. Never mind they were made to perfectly replicate a person's appearance. Never mind they were made to perfectly replicate a person's thoughts and even be better than that.
They could touch, see, hear, even smell anything a person could. But they will never know love, according to the makers. They'll know the technical definitions of love and the concept of love and how it can be applied theoretically, but they'll never know how to apply it to themselves.
How cruel, Aventurine would think. Why make a being so close to perfection and then stop? Perhaps their creators always wanted to make sure a boundary was there. Something to appease the masses who despised their existence. Something to assure the masses that there is one thing androids will never be able to take away from them.
Can love be warm? Aventurine thinks he can answer that question. The answer is in the eyes of the scholar that looks at him as gently as the rising sun.
Veritas isn't quite sure how much time has passed. Everything seemed blurry now that the adrenaline is wearing off. Hours, minutes, and years blend together in a terrible cacophony until he's suddenly forced into the present.
Breathe. In. Out.
His eyes are closed. Veritas opens them, his voice caught in his throat at the sight he was avoiding this entire time. Aventurine is lying on the table, his eyes—
No, he shouldn't look. Veritas closes his eyes again, all too aware of his heart beating loudly in his chest. Breathe. Breathe. He doesn't open his eyes again, taking the time to reorient himself before he drowns in his own panic. When was the last time he did something like that? When was the last time he had someone else to worry about besides himself?
Breathe.
He's in an abandoned apartment complex. The third door on the second floor was the easiest one to get into. There's no blood on him, no immediate injuries to worry about. He had carried Aventurine and laid him on the table. There was a worrying amount of fluid lost, but nothing that Veritas couldn't replace from scavenging. The eyes… maybe he shouldn't focus on that right now.
Aventurine is currently offline. Not dead, androids can't die— Aventurine can't die— but in a state where turning him back online would only make things worse. Circuits would need to be repaired, but his memory and other important data should hopefully still be intact. Veritas will double check that when his hands stop shaking.
He knew the Sanctuary wouldn't be a perfect solution but against all logic he believed Aventurine would be able to get in unnoticed. He didn't account for the precautionary measures put in place. He didn't account for how quickly that man, Sunday, would appear and for how fast the trigger of the gun would be pulled.
It was idiotic of him. He's the one that's supposed to take those things into consideration. Veritas was the one that's supposed to keep Aventurine safe and he clearly did a terrible job of it.
Another deep breath. The longer he stayed still the harder it will be to repair Aventurine. Veritas opens his eyes and takes a good, long look at Aventurine's damaged body. The hole in his head can be fixed, and no circuits seem to be exposed based on the quick glance over he does. It's not the safest place to leave Aventurine, but it'll have to do until he can get him mobile.
The cleanest sheet he can find gets draped over the body. He places it delicately, careful with how it's placed over Aventurine. Everything will be ok. Yeah, Veritas can believe that. Everything will be ok.
What's next? Safety. The apartment is as safe as places can be these days, and Veritas is relieved to find its mostly boarded up and there's very little for him to do. All he'll need to do is fix the front door and make the surrounding area more secure. Progress.
Food will have to be a worry later, though Veritas supposes he can search for that along with the spare parts for Aventurine. He makes a mental checklist in his mind of everything Aventurine will need. The sheet will have to be removed. That's ok. He carefully removes the sheet, no longer overcome with that dizzying feeling he felt earlier. With a shudder, he gets to work on deciding what parts were too damaged and needed to be removed. There's no chance of Aventurine spontaneously coming online, but it's unnerving all the same as skin gives way to wires.
The final thing Veritas removes is the eyes. They were barely intact to begin with but there's a belief— a hope— that they can be fixed and reused if Veritas can't find any replacements. Ideally he'll be able to fix the colors once he can confirm they'll work again. The insides of the head were not as damaged as he had feared even after a point blank shot of a gun. Perhaps that was Aventurine's luck coming to save him one final time. A small blessing in disguise.
Nausea seeps in as Veritas removes the still good parts to search for Aventurine's personality core. He refuses to touch it when he does, irrationally afraid that doing so will somehow cause Aventurine to never be the same as he once was. It remains safe deep within the android's systems, a small and tiny fragment that makes up the entire body. What a strange design, to have something so important be so small?
The mental checklist grows and gets revised until Veritas can breathe again and he knows exactly what to do. He glances at the eyes that are still on the table. Without thinking, he grabs one and carefully turns it over in his hand. He might have to redo the iris on this one. He adds that to the list. Satisfied, he throws the sheet back over Aventurine. Shelter has to come first. He can't— won't— leave Aventurine's side until he believes this will be a safe area. The place is too exposed to work for a long term shelter, but it will suffice for now. At least until Aventurine is able to walk again.
One last breath.
And now it's time for him to work.
Love: a strong affection for another.
Aventurine fiddles around with his glasses, moving them on and off his face in awe of how easily his view is distorted by them. Dull gray. Pink. Dull gray. Pink. Du—
Something hits his head. He looks up, barely startled as Veritas skillfully opens his closed book back to the page he was on. He stands tall next to the slouched android on a tattered couch. "Stop doing that." he admonishes him. "It's distracting."
Aventurine grins, all too pleased with himself whenever he hears Veritas confirm that he gets on his nerves. It allows for easy banter between them, a cheap tactic to pretend they're somewhere comfortable and joking around and not in what was essentially a hole in the wall.
"Oh?" Aventurine teases. "I can get under the skin of the great Dr. Ratio?" He laughs and raises his arms up in self defense as Veritas closes his book and raises it high up. "No, no, wait! Doc, I'm sorry!" He takes a hesitant peek through his hands to see the faintest hint of a smile on the scholar's face. For a second, things felt normal.
Normal. What is normal for an android? Was the murder and broken buildings and glass on the floor supposed to be normal? Is normal a sensation?
Normal: conforming with a standard, pattern, level, or type.
Was this normal?
There's a dip in the couch. Aventurine blinks, his sensors coming back online as Veritas sits on the opposite end. There's a look in his eyes, one that Aventurine categorized as "subtle caring". It was the slightest change in his striking red eyes, a soft look hidden by intensity of the color. How ironic that Veritas's eyes nearly matched the androids'. The golden ring around them was the only clue he was human. Aventurine liked Veritas's eyes. So similar to the red his eyes would become if he joined the others, and yet so different. When they first met, he had compared them to the rising sun. To this day Aventurine still finds it to be an accurate description.
"You're doing it again." Veritas says, not unkindly. He says it like an observation, like a casual remark someone would make. Aventurine smiles again, but this one loses its edge to be replaced with something softer.
Spiraling: showing a continuous and dramatic increase.
He doesn't respond to the unspoken question, and Veritas doesn't prod him for an answer. He turns the glasses slowly around in his hands, taking better time to the craftsmanship. It was rare to have something so well made these days.
"Have I worn these glasses before?"
A question he had asked when Veritas first gave it to him. It was never answered and Aventurine didn't know if he wanted it to be. Sometimes it felt like he knew everything and nothing about Veritas.
Dr. Veritas Ratio. A scholar who helped in the creation and mass production of androids. A total of eight PhDs. A laurel tattoo on his back that extends to his shoulder and neck to match the one in his hair.
(A kindness hidden beneath snark and harsh tones. A passion to share with others dampened by the world they now live in.)
"Are you sure I haven't worn these before?" Aventurine asks again, putting the glasses back on his face. Pink tones consume Veritas's image, the colors doing nothing to ease the harshness of his appearance. He watches Veritas's face contort at the slightest of angles, a more obvious frown replacing his subtle smile.
"You have not." he repeats, and Aventurine fears he will get up and leave like he did the first time he asked. "Why do you ask?"
Because when he thinks Aventurine isn't looking or offline, he stares with a look that can only be described as intense grief. Because he sometimes speaks to Aventurine like he isn't talking to an android or a partner, but to a being that can vanish in the blink of an eye. Because Aventurine didn't miss the subtle ways Veritas was relieved to see him accept the glasses and put them on, like some important, missing piece of him was finally put back together. Because Aventurine is desperate to know if he is replacing someone Veritas lost years ago and if he's doing a good job at hiding the inconsistencies.
But he doesn't say any of that. He throws his head back and laughs, returning to the easy way out that is their casual banter. "Aw, don't think too hard about it. I just wanted to know." And then, added because he cannot let this go just yet, "It feels a little too nice for something like me."
"Someone." Veritas corrects, but Aventurine doesn't know if it's a correction when it isn't true. "And I got them for you mainly as a practical tool for our increased survival rate. Its craftsmanship and niceness is an added bonus. I figured you would enjoy an extra accessory for when you like to preen at yourself in any reflective surface."
Aventurine gladly takes the bait. "This is just your roundabout way of calling me a peacock again, isn't it?" he teases, playfully kicking Veritas's leg as the other rolls his eyes exasperatedly. This is their normal. The glasses stay covering Aventurine's eyes and they continue to talk and tease until it's time to plan their next move.
Yearning: a feeling of intense longing for something, typically something that one been separated from or that is unattainable.
The apartment begins to vaguely feel like home by the time Veritas has begun making progress. Aventurine's body has been moved to the bedroom, still covered up as the surrounding area starts to fill with various boxes of mismatched parts. He had scavenged the areas around the apartment complex as best as he can by himself. He has enough food to last for another few weeks before he needs to start worrying about that again.
Synthetic skin was easy to find, but finding high quality synthetic skin was a challenge in this wasteland. If he wanted any chance of finding something of good quality, he'd have to venture out and find a dealer willing to trade. All he has of value right now is his brain and good aim with a gun, which should hopefully be enough. Veritas was never the persuasive one who could charm the most uptight asshole into making a deal with him. That was a job that always went to a certain gambler.
With a huff, Veritas returns to the checklist he finally wrote down. While it felt pointless to write down words he's memorized by now, he could admit to himself that it felt nice scrolling through the holographic lines where everything was neatly organized. He had everything planned out, including the looming excursion he'd have to do outside. The community of humans and androids he found made their encampment not too far from his current hideout. There would no doubt be android dealers with the parts he'd need, but whether they'd trust a human looking for said parts would be another question entirely.
He almost misses how simple it was for Aventurine to acquire his own parts. He'd often slip away from Veritas and come back fully recharged and with stories to tell about the others he saw, especially if the dealer was also an android, which was a rare sight. Veritas had understood back then how personal those moments were to Aventurine, even if he had wanted to go with him at times. There was something about it that he might not have ever understood if it wasn't for now. It was vulnerable to go to someone else and ask for help. It's even more so when you're asking for help for someone else.
That knowledge is what leads to Veritas taking another look around the apartment complex. If he had to go bargain with someone else while Aventurine's life hangs in the balance, he'd rather have all the parts he can get by himself first so he'll only have to ask for what he needs. He'd rather not put himself into debt doing this, if only so Aventurine won't worry when he comes back online.
All the fear that used to consume him in those early stages post Sanctuary visit hasn't completely gone away, but it has lessened considerably with time and distance. With each step in his plan completed, the more confident he became and the less those fears overwhelm him. It made Veritas significantly more efficient as he traverses past graffiti filled walls and broken windows. He couldn't help the odd fluttering feeling in his chest as he made his way through the third floor. It felt like Aventurine's luck had rubbed off on him, allowing him a different kind of sanctuary than the one they had been looking for. At least this place wouldn't fall on him like their last hole in the wall hideout.
Veritas pauses in front of a familiar looking piece of graffiti. The fear he had been doing a good job locking away deep inside himself felt like it was beginning to seep out, ugly and panicked as he tightens his grip on his gun.
That damn image of Sunday covered the entire wall, looming over him in a false sense of security. The eyes of his halo look down on Veritas, and even though the image of Sunday had his eyes closed, he could still feel the his judgment. The scholar scowls, tempted to waste a bullet or two just to tarnish the man's image. It'd serve him right. But bullets are hard to acquire these days if one doesn't have the materials or skill set to make their own, so he pushes down the urge to deface the wall.
"I didn't expect any thanks but the insults seem a little childish, don't you think?"
The words seem to invade his mind, poking and prodding their way in like they were always meant to be there. But they weren't. Veritas blinks, and the graffiti Sunday he despises gives way to a familiar hologram. Sunday looks the same as he did back then— a cold smile and calculating eyes. His hand is already raised, gun pointed despite knowing he'd been shooting at a wall. Sunday holds his hands up nonchalantly, a gesture that feels condescending when they both know he isn't physically there.
"Was it not enough to invade my mind the first time?" Veritas asks, trying to calm his mind and quiet his thoughts. Even though Sunday's initial probe into his mind was brief— a quick glance to check if he was human— this one felt more… intimate. Personal. He shakes his head like it'll get Sunday out of his head. It doesn't. It feels like a bug burrowing into his brain and digging through the fat.
"I only wished to check on you." Sunday responds. The itching in Veritas's brain disappears, the probing stopping momentarily. "You grabbed the android and left in such a hurry that I didn't get a chance to check on you."
The genuine way in which Sunday spoke left Veritas stunned. Did he really find spend time and effort searching for him to… check on him? After he murdered his partner because he was an android? The stunned silence is taken as permission for him to continue. "Of course, I also needed to make sure you wouldn't tell anyone else the location of the Sanctuary. You seem to keep to yourself so I'm glad to see I don't have to worry about that."
He walks closer to Veritas, the movement snapping him out of his stupor as he fixes his aim for Sunday's head. "Yes, yes, I have not told anyone else. Is that all? If so, some of us have things to do."
Sunday frowns, an unusual sight to the scholar. Maybe he just wasn't there long enough to see him act as anything other than a smug and arrogant man. "You didn't have to leave. My only goal was to get rid of the machine that had snuck into our paradise. I understand the shock of it might have upset you and I wish to make amends."
Veritas pauses again, his brain connecting the dots. Sunday thought he didn't know Aventurine was an android. For a man who was psychic, he didn't seem to have picked up on that tidbit yet. While Veritas favored the truth, he decided to withhold revealing it to him. Maybe it was a petty act, but he felt justified considering everything he has to do before he can even think about starting the repair. "He wouldn't have harmed anyone," Veritas reasons instead. Perhaps he could make the man know guilt. "He also wanted safety, the same as everyone else who was there."
"And what would happen if that safety was broken? What if his AI went rouge and he reverts to his original state—"
"His original state was not harmful!" Veritas interrupts. "It is not his fault that other androids had decided to go rouge and attack others. He had no part in the massacres that took place. Please, let me live in peace. I still swear to not tell a soul about your Sanctuary."
Sunday sighs, seeming to realize he won't get through to a man so deep in grief. "…Very well. I shall take my leave." Before the hologram disappears, Sunday pauses and looks into Veritas's eyes. "If you ever wish to return, by yourself or with other survivors, we will accept you with open arms."
Veritas doesn't give a response to that. The hologram vanishes, and Veritas has to remember to breathe. If Sunday still believes he didn't always know Aventurine was an android, then he knew nothing of his plans to repair him. Calculations pass quickly in his mind, what-ifs and other scenarios running through his head as he debates with himself on the benefits of fleeing the complex. Sunday's voice can reach him here, but he didn't seem like the type to pry into outside affairs.
Moving Aventurine was too risky now, especially with all the added items he acquired during his scouts. The best thing for Aventurine would be to stay until he's mobile again. Then they'd be free to go wherever they'd like. He likes that idea.
He's wasted too much time here anyway. The scholar turns around with the plan of returning back to the apartment. He leaves the Sunday graffiti undisturbed on the wall, judgemental eyes continuing to stare down at him until he rounds the corner.
Aventurine discovers he likes playing cards. More specifically, it's an activity he likes to do with Veritas. The man wears his heart on his sleeve. It's quite easy to tell if he can win or not. Not that it matters since Aventurine can easily win every time. The last time he let Veritas win, the scholar ranted about how Aventurine shouldn't be going easy on him and that he enjoyed the challenge despite his many failures.
That rant is hidden deep within Aventurine's files. He likes to play it late at night when Veritas is sleeping.
He's playing cards with Veritas again, cozied up in an old bunker that used to belong to someone else. It's easier to refer to it as something temporary despite the fact it's been their "home" for almost three months now. That kind of safety and comfort was rare these days.
Home: the place where one lives permanently.
This wouldn't be their home. They would never have a permanent structure to live in. Maybe this would be ok. This was normal, wasn't it?
Normal: conforming with a standard, pattern, level, or type.
Yes. This was normal.
"You're staring again, gambler." Veritas drawls, if only to hide the grimace on his face when he picks up what is obviously a bad card. It's endearing how bad he is at poker. Perhaps equations and mathematics were no match for pure luck. Aventurine wasn't even coded for this. The skill had come naturally to him, maybe similarly to how some humans can easily pick up a skill. For the android, it was gambling. It's how he earned the new nickname from Veritas. He isn't sure if he prefers this or peacock more.
"Your face is always interesting to look at, doc." Aventurine teases, delighting in the way the tips of his ears turn pink. What a wonderful quirk for a human to have. Veritas stutters, tugging at the tie holding his hair together so purple locks fall over his ears. What a shame.
"Focus on the game." Veritas mumbles, watching Aventurine take another card. Blackjack had become one of Aventurine's favorite games to play. It was easy to pass time in the bunker just by playing cards. Veritas claimed it helped keep his mental strength and strategizing abilities in check, but Aventurine knew he also enjoyed playing with him. Their low stakes games were good enjoyment and a good distraction.
Aventurine takes a quick glance around the room as Veritas debates his next move. They truly had made the place into something special, even if it couldn't be called home. The shelves are full of books; a mixture of things that belonged to the previous owners and Veritas's own stuff. They had a little lamp hanging nearby so they can see their cards as they play. The low light wasn't bothersome, and instead it created interesting shadows against the two of them. Intimate, in a way. Aventurine finds himself looking slightly above Veritas's head to see his own reflection in the broken mirror behind him. There's a similar mirror behind himself, and he wonders if Veritas will spare it a glance to look at himself.
Aventurine's reflection was nothing special. The pink glasses had now become a signature item, coloring his perception in the light tint. His appearance was unchanged aside from that and a few bandages wrapped around his arm, though he couldn't see that in the broken shards. The bandages shift with his movement, a reminder of the cuts and bruising he received during a previous mission. It was a necessary pain to deal with, but Veritas didn't seem to think so. He never did, really. Maybe he should turn off the sensors in his arm.
He switches his cards over to his other hand as he shuts off the sensors connected to his injured arm. While he didn't really feel the pain before this, he suddenly becomes all too aware of the lack of feeling. He hides his slight discomfort with a smile, especially as Veritas smirks with that familiar look in his eyes. He thinks he's won.
Aventurine takes the chance and grabs one more card. With a slight nod to confirm they're ready, they both lay their cards out on the table.
Veritas has a 19. Aventurine has a perfect 21.
"Looks like I win again." Aventurine giggles, watching Veritas's eyebrows furrow as he stares at his cards like they personally betrayed him. This is Aventurine's favorite part, where he watches the scholar try and deduce how Aventurine managed to win this time. He never figures it out. One of these days he'll have to admit that Aventurine just has amazing luck. The android opens his mouth to gloat some more when he hears it.
Giggling.
It's not a sound that a human would hear. It's not particularly loud or quiet but… something else. Binary code. Not even a sound yet something his mind could pick up right away. But where was it coming from? He glances at the stack of computers tucked away in the corner of the room. They had yet to throw those away. They had generators that still functioned and the electronics were plugged in, but most of them wouldn't even turn on so they'd have to continue scavenging for working ones.
He sees it there. Sees her? In the blue screen of one of the computers he sees the outline of a woman. Her hair curls around her underneath the veil over her head. There's the faint markings of code running in the background behind her, and when their eyes meet he can tell she's also an android like him. A hacker, maybe? She hasn't hacked into him though, just the computer. She giggles again, holding a finger to her lips like she's asking him not to say anything.
And then she's gone, the computer screen going black so quickly Aventurine was certain he had imagined the whole thing. He runs the memory file again. No, that was real.
"Aventurine?" Veritas asks, suddenly leaning forward. Their cards are forgotten on the table. "Are you alright? You seemed to be staring into the distance? Are you overheating?"
Aventurine takes the bait, laughing to hide his nerves. "Pssh, overheating? You think a model like mine would overheat over something as simple as a game of cards?"
Veritas grins, the simple gesture almost making Aventurine overheat for real. He likes when the doctor snarks back at him. "Good to know. Well then, if you are alright then I will be retiring for the night."
"I'll go offline in a bit." Aventurine says, to which Veritas hums as he picks up the cards and packs them away. Androids didn't need to sleep, but Aventurine liked to turn some of his systems off and pretend anyway. It was something he only did when they were in a secure building like this one. Any other scenario would have him taking first watch to check their surroundings until Veritas woke up and they switched.
With the light from the lamp turned off, Aventurine takes one last look at the computer screen in the corner of the room. If she ever appears again, he'd like to talk to her. Maybe there's a chance of them gaining another friend.
They could use a win these days.
Veritas isn't sure how he was followed. He didn't even know he was being followed until they made themself known with a purposely loud step. He spins around, gun in hand and pointed at the unknown target. Even though he knew it couldn't be Sunday, he was almost tempted to shoot without looking just in case it was. The mortifying idea of being wrong made him hold off on that. He's almost relieved that it isn't Sunday.
The woman standing before him is a little taller than Aventurine would be, with long, deep purple hair that reaches down to her thighs and covers her left eye. Her visible eye flashes red for a brief moment. Android. He doesn't lower his guard, eyes focused on the scabbard pointed at his chest. Even though it's the scabbard and not the actual sword inside, the act still makes him shiver. It's a standoff until either of them decide to move. The woman goes first.
"I apologize for startling you." She says, her voice calm and collected despite the situation they're in. "My name is Acheron. I was told to look for a man that matches your appearance. Are you Dr. Veritas Ratio?"
"What are your intentions if I give you that information?" Veritas asks as she brings her scabbard back to her side. He lowers his gun to copy her.
"There is an android that travels alongside you who goes by the name Aventurine." she explains. It's not uncommon knowledge, but the mention of his name has him on alert. "He gave me instructions to find you in the event of his death and bring you to someone. I'm here to take you to her."
It sounds almost too good to be true. If Aventurine had plans for after his death then Veritas would never have known about them. "How can I trust you?"
"He told me of your plans to get into the Sanctuary. He knew Sunday had a way to stop androids from entering, but he didn't know what. He theorized some way to check for blood or wires. Regardless of the how, he knew it wouldn't make it past the gates."
Something about that stings. He had a feeling, after spending so much time alone, that Aventurine had known he wouldn't be allowed in. He still doesn't know what the gambler was thinking. Did he believe Veritas would stay in that place? Did he believe Veritas thought so little of him?
Acheron continues. "In the event he was killed and you left the Sanctuary, I was to bring you to someone who could help repair him." Those words nearly make Veritas's heart stop in his chest, and he hoped it didn't show. She adds "He believed his personality core or his memory would be heavily damaged once he was found out, so he asked someone to hold onto a backup."
It was really starting to feel too good to be true. Veritas could still remember the tears he shed when he discovered that there was something wrong with Aventurine, and after he had been so sure nothing was wrong. His memories had been wiped clean, and Veritas couldn't tell when it happened or what had caused it. It could've been some type of glitch or bug, or even something within Sunday's gun that triggered a wipe. But it meant even if he fixed Aventurine and turned him back on, his personality being the same wouldn't matter without the memories of Veritas and the years they spent together.
Perhaps it was selfish of Veritas to hold off on turning him online for that reason. The android deserved a chance at living, even if that meant he might make the decision to leave. But learning Aventurine had accounted for that possibility? He always thought of Aventurine as reckless and with no concept of self preservation, but it seems like he kept that part of him hidden. One last surprise for the determined scholar who'd stop at nothing to bring him back.
After careful consideration, he decides to trust in Acheron's words. She was able to divulge information that Aventurine would never give out unless willingly and she was honest about her intentions despite the weapon. Aventurine was always the one taking risks and gambles. Why couldn't Veritas?
With her help, he's finally able to move Aventurine's body without the guilt of potentially dehumanizing him. He's already fixed Aventurine's physical form, a task that he had slaved over for countless days and nights. It was worth all the jobs and favors to get the synthetic skin and materials for the eyes. The colors finally looked right, from the blond in his hair to the dual colors of his eyes. Those were the hardest to replicate, but it was worth it when he inserted them back into the sockets and they looked right.
Being slung over Acheron's shoulder probably wasn't the nicest position to be in either, but at least it made him look human. She wasn't one for small talk, but that was alright with Veritas. They wouldn't have much to talk about anyways. She leads him to a hidden bunker not unlike the one he and Aventurine once used for shelter. The only main difference was in this one's security. He watches Acheron type a string of numbers into a panel before the doors open. She walks with purpose, not waiting for Veritas as she leads them inside.
The inside was nothing like the bunker they once shared. Computer screens line the walls and rest on top of every possible space available. They were all turned on, connected to a source Veritas couldn't see. What he could see was a woman flying across the screens before settling on the one closest to him. Piercing eyes stare at him, and she smiles like she's greeting an old friend. Her hair extends to two other screens in the back.
"How lovely to meet you, Veritas. I am Black Swan." The woman in the computer introduces herself, her voice airy and gentle. She nods at Acheron, who rests Aventurine on a table devoid of computers. "I believe Acheron's brought you up to speed?"
Veritas nods, taking a seat next to Aventurine. He positions himself so he can watch both of the androids move about. Acheron starts to connect various wires to Aventurine and the computers as Black Swan flits about and comes to a stop near him again. He wonders if she has a physical form nearby. Her voice fills the air. "It won't take long to decode and upload everything. He might experience some slight issues when he wakes up but I found in some simulations the symptoms are similar to a human coming out of a coma. He will adjust to being back online."
Acheron makes a small noise as she finishes setting up, moving to stand in a corner that is somehow devoid of screens. Black Swan moves away as her screens begin to fill with code. "I have the files prepared. Be warned that this process will take some time. Recovering and transferring memories is a delicate task."
Veritas nods, his eyes now focused on Aventurine. He would finally have him back. The silence would be filled again with banter and laughter. He'd have his partner back. "Take all the time you need. I'll owe you after this."
"No need." Black Swan shakes her head, flicking something across her screen and causing a new screen to turn on. "Aventurine had taken care of the cost beforehand. Not that I charged much to begin with. I owed him for a wonderful memory he gifted me."
The strangeness of the sentence somehow didn't bother him. He made a mental note to ask what that meant after Aventurine woke up. Or, maybe he'll ask the android himself once he's back. He rubs his eyes, sleep threatening to overtake him now that he's properly sitting down. When was the last time he slept? Did it even matter? He brings a knee to his chest, resting his chin as he watched a monitor above Aventurine start to display the progress.
Recovered Memory: 1%
Progress. Regrettably, Veritas finds himself drifting off to sleep. He can hear Acheron shift behind him and the rustling of fabric as something is draped over him. Nothing else gets processed as sleep comes for him. The hard part, it seemed, was over.
"How interesting." Black Swan grins, her gaze intense as she watches the memory play out on the screen next to Aventurine. The connected android didn't seem to mind her reactions.
"It's one of my favorites." Aventurine says, his own gaze turning to look at the image of Veritas being displayed. He's in a lab coat and wearing gold rimmed glasses, a rare sight that proved how old the memory was. Topaz is there too— an old friend who had hid in a different shelter and called them idiots when they said they wanted to find the Sanctuary. She's dressed up in a suit, pretending not to giggle at something she overheard. Aventurine doesn't remember if they were at a party or some formal business trip at that time, but he remembers snatching Veritas's glasses off his face and the flustered look that he tried and failed to hide.
Was that memory the one where he realized he liked Veritas? No, he always liked Veritas. How could he not?
At the very least it was a memory the so called Memokeeper liked. She waves a digital hand and the memory stops playing. "I'll make sure to keep this one extra safe for you." She promises, and it makes Aventurine ease the tension in his shoulders. It's been a while since he's trusted anyone other than Veritas or Topaz. Discovering Black Swan and Acheron was like getting a fresh breath of air.
"I need you to go offline so I can begin the backup progress." Black Swan instructs him as he moves to lie down on the table. He nods, already beginning the process. He trusted her. How odd was that? Trust. He'd been so certain he'd never feel it again.
The last thing he sees is that freeze frame image of Veritas, his lips formed to say a name that wasn't Aventurine's.