She couldn’t tell what happened.
When No. 2 came to, she was buried in rubble. But she was still alive. She climbed out of the mess; she was dirty, and covered in cuts and bruises. She could feel her body complain with every breath.
She looked around. There was no trace of the server room. She was outside. The shape of Mount Ka’ala had changed. The explosion had apparently been colossal. She wasn’t sure if the shock wave had blasted her away or if the mountain had collapsed and exposed the basement of the Machine complex. Either way, she had survived an explosion of this scale. It was a miracle.
Why me? she thought. She thought the same thing when they landed on Earth. But there was a definitive difference from then to now. At the time, she had thought, It would’ve been better if somebody stronger than me survived. Not this time.
It wouldn’t have mattered who survived. Whether it had been the greatest leader, No. 1, or the android with the highest kill count, No. 3, the result would have been the same.
What determined who lived was not power or intelligence. It was sheer luck. Even so, she was chosen to live. A fate chosen on a whim. Then, she had to do whatever being a survivor entailed.
Destroy the Machines. Destroy everything. Nobody would get in her way. She would kill anybody who tried. Whoever that person would be.
“No. 4 …”
No. 2 recalled No. 4’s smile as she had left No. 2 with a simple “Bye.” Command had planned the explosion that vaporized No. 4 without a trace.
No. 2 ripped off her goggles and slammed them on the ground. “That’s against military regulations, you know?” She remembered No. 4’s expression. And No. 16’s reply, “Look who’s talking!” And No. 21 saying, “Go on without me.”
“Everyone …”
No. 2 ground the goggles under her heel. She didn’t need them.
Machines approached, their movements jerky. Apparently, some were still active, even after the server was destroyed.
“You scraps …”
She scooped up some debris and flung it at the Machines, who quickly collapsed. It was effortless.
From somewhere, she heard a rumble. The explosion had probably caused many landslides to occur. She carefully started to walk along the landscape.
First, she had to escape this shitty place. After she repaired her chassis, she would go massacre the Machines. She would ruin them, one by one. That was her reason to live …
Glaring ahead, Attacker No. 2 drew her sword.
✦ ✦ ✦
She had had the dream many times. She fought with her comrades, heard her comrades scream … and she cried. She had it so often that she was aware it was a dream even while experiencing it.
“Good morning, A2.”
But she hadn’t expected to be called when she woke up. That was the only thing that was unusual.
“What?”
“YoRHa model A2 was rebooted 5 minutes and 42 seconds ago. Cause: Damage from an encounter with a large Machine.”
The monotone voice from the floating box. Now she remembered. She engaged a large hostile in the desert, was exposed to an EMP attack, and lost consciousness right as the battle ended. She brushed sand off her and stood up.
“Shit! All this sand is annoying!”
“Report: Your fuel filter is damaged. It seems that particulates infiltrated your filter during battle. Recommendation: Swift replacement of the aforementioned part.”
“Well it’s easier said than done.”
The box was always saying absurd things. She couldn’t see how it was supposed to be a “support assistant.”
“Records indicate that a filtration unit was recently active at the resistance camp.”
She stared at the box in surprise. She hadn’t misheard. It had definitely just said what she thought it said.
“Resistance camp …”
She knew that Anemone was alive. She had recently been told that information. Until then, she thought she had been the only survivor.
That day, after frantically escaping Mount Ka’ala, she removed the bomb in her. She threw away anything that seemed like it could contain location-sensing hardware and left behind almost all her equipment issued by Command. She wandered the Earth with just her long sword in hand. Destroy as many Machines as possible. That was the only thing on her mind.
She had died during that battle. Her old self was buried under the rubble with her comrades.
That’s why even if she knew Anemone was alive, she didn’t go out of her way to contact her. She didn’t know what to do if she met her. But now she had a perfect excuse, in the form of a fuel filter, to go talk to her.
She peered toward the direction the box specified. She could see some high-rise structures beyond the sandstorms.
“Guess I’ll go.”
She walked, kicking sand as she went. She called out her comrades’ names in her head. But she felt nothing.
She was empty inside.