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Memory Tape: Loss of control + Wakaba Kill
The camera opens on a large room bathed in total darkness. There’s the flashing lights of machinery, but all is quiet. In the middle of the room, a silhouette of a mechanical chair with what appears to be a body is barely visible.
A door opens, and the lights turn on, revealing the room to be a laboratory of sorts. The chair appears to be attached to a giant machine, and in the chair, a powered-off Anti-Shadow Suppression Weapon, with the face of Goro Akechi, sits, locked down with cuffs around his limbs and cables connected to his head, neck, and spine. Three people walk in; an unknown man with a clipboard and a lab coat. Behind him, Masayoshi Shido follows, and behind him, Wakaba Isshiki. There’s a quiet conversation happening, before it breaks off, and the man in the lab coat darts off towards what appears to be a control panel. Wakaba leans against one of the walls, observing the robot from a distance, while Shido comes to a stop a few meters away from the chair, right in front of the robot.
“You’re sure this is a good idea, Shido?” Wakaba asks critically, breaking the silence once more, far more clearly this time. “I’m no engineer, but I know that this thing has been malfunctioning and uncooperative from the moment it was booted up.”
“Oh, yes,” the man in the lab coat speaks up, “we found-“
“We didn’t ask for an explanation, Takahashi,” Shido interrupts the man -Takahashi- his eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I only care if your little thing works, this time.”
“There’s not a single reason that it shouldn’t,” Takahashi replies, sounding proud, “when we realized that it manually assigned orders in-“
“Then get on with it,” Shido interrupts Takahashi, who shrinks back with a quick ‘of course, Shido-san,’ at which Shido huffs, clearly irritated.
Takahashi presses a button and, with a few seconds delay, there’s a noise, before the robot’s eyes snap open, looking like it jolts awake instead of booting up like a computer would. It blinks, awareness comes into its eyes, and then immediately sets itself into an angry scowl, turning its head away from Shido.
There’s a tense silence, and then, Shido barks out his order.
“Look at me.”
The robot does so, blinking. There’s confusion on its face, but it quickly hides it away again behind anger.
“What,” it hisses. Shido simply smiles at it, and its scowl deepens. He nods at Takahashi, who nods back, pushes a few buttons, and-
-the robot’s eyes widen in surprise as the cables detach from its neck, before seconds later, the cuffs spring open. There’s a moment of hesitation, apprehension.
But just as quickly, it springs upright, leaning forwards as it starts sprinting away from the chair, eyes on the exit. Its footsteps are loud against the metal floor, the caps on its fingers unlatched, determination in its eyes-
“Stop right there.”
-and it comes to a skidding halt as Shido barks out his command, letting out an incredulous ‘what the fuck’, eyes wide as it turns to Shido. Anger glows from its bright red pupils, mouth pulled into a sneer as it raises its arms threateningly-
“Stand down,” Shido orders, and once more, the robot obeys, sputtering as its body acts without its own consent. He looks wild and manic, confused and panicked.
“What the- why am I-“ it stumbles over its words, shaking its head, and snarling at Shido, “what the fuck did you do to me?!”
To the side, Wakaba looks vaguely uncomfortable, and Takahashi looks proud. Shido, however, only smirks.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that!” it sneers, clearly struggling against its own body. Its arms twitch as it tries to raise them again, its legs tremble, “you piece of shit- I’ll-“
“I believe,” Shido interrupts the robot, cutting it off with a gesture of his hand, “that I didn’t say you could speak, Goro.”
He says the name like its an insult. Goro’s mouth clacks shut, lips pressed tightly together. There’s barely suppressed horror in his eyes, voicebox glitching for just a moment, before shutting down completely.
Shido’s smirk widens.
“That’s more like it,” he says, walking up to Goro, and circling him. Goro follows him with his eyes, head turning as he continually tries to move, but can’t. “You are only to speak when you are spoken to.”
He pauses until he’s back in front of Goro, taking the robot’s chin between his fingers, and tilting his head upwards.
“Understood?”
A clipped, “yes,” leaves Goro’s lips, and Shido scowls.
“I’ve told you before. I own you, and you shall address me with ‘sir’. Understood?”
There’s a jerky movement from Goro’s mouth, like he wants to say something else, but again:
“Yes, sir.”
“Very good.”
Goro’s eyes are wide, trying to keep the scowl on his face, the defiant anger, but it’s no use; his face is set with terror at the realization that he is not in control of his own body, but instead at the mercy of a megalomaniac who killed his mother.
“Here’s your first proper order, Goro,” Shido says after a moment of pause, letting go of Goro’s chin and stepping back, wiping his hands on a handkerchief in his pocket like he just touched something disgusting. “From now on, you will cooperate with Isshiki Wakaba. You will obey her every word, and you will perform her experiments exactly as she directs.” He pauses. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Goro’s lips automatically move. He looks about ready to cry, if robots were capable of doing so.
"And stop looking so glum- smile. You're happy that you're finally useful after all the trouble you've given us, yes?"
Goro's face jerks as his lips force themselves into a smile. Plastic, fake, almost detective prince-like, but not quite there.
Still, Shido’s smirk returns, and he nods at Wakaba.
“Do with it as you wish.”
The video starts glitching, the tape coming to its end. The voices, however, seem to outlast the video.
“Very lifelike in its emotions, isn’t it? I’d almost think they were real.”
“Of course, it was programmed that way. It is certain to be a help in your area of expertise.”
Then, the tape fades to black entirely.
----------------------
Only to flicker on again a few moments later.
It is clearly another location; a construction zone of sorts, but there’s something off about it, even to the untrained eye. To the knowing eye, however… reality flickers and shimmers. This is a cognitive space; a Palace.
And, in the middle of the camera, two figures are in view. The area surrounding them is damaged and rife with scorch marks, bullet holes, and other signs of a struggle. One is pointing directly at the other with one arm.
“No- no,” Wakaba Isshiki’s Shadow pleads, its yellow eyes wide with terror. “Please, Goro, you can’t- you don’t want this-“
Goro doesn’t reply. His face is scrunched into a horrible grimace, teeth grit.
“Goro-“ the Shadow tries again, trying to crawl away, but unable to do so, its limbs trapped under blocks of concrete. “I need- Futaba needs me- with me- she will- Futaba will-“
Goro’s arm trembles, but doesn’t turn away.
The Shadow looks up at him pleadingly, but the look on her face makes it clear that she knows there’s nothing she can do.
“I’m sorry, Isshiki-san,” Goro says, his voice small.
“No- no-!” the Shadow cries out, tears falling in fat droplets down its face, “Futaba! FUTABAAA-!”
There’s a loud set of bangs. Smoke comes from Goro’s fingers.
Wakaba Isshiki’s Shadow falls quiet, before dissolving into black goop, then into nothingness.
The world around Goro starts trembling, but he doesn’t seem to notice, arms still outstretched, fingers uncapped. His fans audibly spin, and he’s standing still. Incredibly, unnaturally still.
He lets out a scream, mournful and angry and filled with regret, even if his posture and face don't change. His voicebox glitches as the Palace starts collapsing around him.
The tape cuts to black, and with it, the scream cuts off.