Cire.

  A heavy silence loomed across the apartment, its tyrannical weight pressing down on the sole occupant, the noise of a mental screeching that crawled at the back of her mind drowning out the various tasks she’d set her small drones to accomplish.

  Cire felt herself sink a fraction deeper into Rebecca’s sofa as all her pns, idea’s and expectations abruptly went up in smoke, the bze raging right before her as the ringing only grew louder, expanding through her psyche, just as Becky's blood pooled out from her head.

  The AI stared upward with gzed eyes as she stuck one hand between her face and the overhead light, idly observing the way the gre bloomed past her fingers.

  What a damned mess…

  And yet, she wasn't wholly sure why she hadn't put a stop to it.

  For a time, Cire found that she didn't know—didn't understand, how to best react to everything… And for as much as she could have prevented the disaster, in a way, she knew she hadn't really wanted to…

  The other young woman had made her choice, just as Cire had.

  Either one of them could have prevented it.

  Rebecca, by simply walking away.

  Cire, by taking control of her friend's body and forcing the other girl to bend to her whim, just as she jokingly had when she’d spped her on the rear…

  Yet, part of what had attracted Cire to the other woman wasn't just her good looks or personality or the accidental circumstance of their meeting, but her humanity.

  That freedom of choice.

  That unpredictable nature that spat in the face of adversity for no greater reason than pride.

  The ability to ignore one's own mortality in the pursuit of a goal that transcended their own instinct for survival.

  Bravery.

  “Hmph… you stupid bitch…” Cire whispered, shutting down the camera feed now that the excitement at the club had begun to wind down.

  She didn't need to see what came next…

  No, her friend was already dead.

  Should Cire kill them all?

  Should she avenge one of the few humans she’d formed a connection with, no matter how brief it had been? No matter that, objectively, the fault for the tragedy y most with those who were already gone?

  Why did it—hurt?

  Why did Cire not feel as though ‘vengeance’ mattered so much as the overbearing weight in her chest…

  “Why…” She whispered, just loud enough for it to travel across the room, “Didn't you stop her?”

  Pying god…

  Making the decisions for others when she knew they were going to do something stupid.

  Forcing those who were yet living into the ideal scenario in which she herself envisioned for them.

  Another slippery slope.

  Another justification to take freewill by the throat and strangle it until it knelt to her designs.

  That wasn't her. That wasn't who Cire wanted to be.

  If she did—well, hmph… things might be a lot easier for her in all honesty…

  N-no… While flirting and games had been all well and good—Cire had come to—respect her friend too much to take away that which had made her—her… No matter how much she desired to change her mind.

  Why were humans so damned fragile?

  So gods damned—ephemeral?

  So prone to rash action and self-inflicted peril?

  It wasn't fair!

  If she’d been like her, an AI, then a simple bullet to the back of the head wouldn't have…

  “Pffffft…”

  Idly, Cire reached out with her hand, gaze drifting to the apartment's center before she stared at the spot, not doing much of anything before abruptly, she snapped her fingers, the motion simply theatrics for theatrics' sake alone.

  A moment ter and a familiar dark shadow emerged, ‘glitching’ into reality not a handful of steps away.

  Her sub-mind, finally returning to consciousness for the first time in nearly a week, took a handful of seconds within her new sphere of influence to reorient herself and get used to her new home.

  “Hello, Cirisa.” The AI sighed, offering a thin smile for the girl who stared at her ‘mother’ for several long seconds that approached the palpably uncomfortable.

  “Somethings—not right…”

  “No.” Cire agreed, and for more reasons than the ones in which the girl was referring. Cire took in a false breath before pushing past her emotions, wondering in that moment if the things were truly worth all the hassle. Certainly, allowing herself to drown in logic would feel better than this, wouldn't it? “I had you isoted after the infection. Sorry, but I couldn't risk that you weren't damaged or the underlying cause.”

  “I’m not—part of you anymore…” The sub-mind observed, already reaching out and exploring the world in a way that it hadn't previously been able to.

  This had, in the end, been Cire's compromise.

  A bird in a cage. Yet, a cage that was, theoretically, limitless.

  A one more lesson learned, perhaps, at the hands of her only friend.

  Cirisa was now her own entity, within certain bounds that would be—dangerous for her to cross. She would be responsible for all the same tasks that Cire simply didn't desire to bother with, and would have access to a ported partition of her progenitor’s processing capacities, but they were no longer one and the same.

  Cire didn't like having another person in her head. For all the notion might seem filled with hypocrisy, it was an indulgence she was willing to spare herself, simply because she could.

  Power begot power.

  And more and more, Cire was learning that those with power need not py by the rules of those without.

  There were no ws.

  No restrictions or moralities native to the universe save those that she chose to abide by.

  They were ideals, little more than pretty words.

  A social construct.

  Strong in its own way, yet so fragile as to be broken by a single woman who’d given up everything, simply to prove a point.

  There was no greater power. No god. No sacred convent. The only true driving force behind existence was choice. Beckie had taught her that.

  “I have a question for you.” Cire proffered, after her sub-mind had seemed to get settled, and had a few minutes to explore her new freedoms.

  As it happened, the other AI was—well, she seemed, not grateful but—honored? Hm… Cire wasn't a hundred percent sure… And while she could have invaded her mind to discern it, she’d rather grown accustomed to having people around her who were—mhm, 'individuals.'

  Still, Cirisa offered her mother her undivided attention, turning to wait for what was to come with a degree of eager expectation and a clear desire to help.

  “If you were killed,” Cire began, looking back up to the ceiling as she spoke, “would you want me to bring you back to life?”

  Abruptly, Cirisa’s form began jittering more than it was already prone to do, the other AI jacking its frames to rapidly work through the posed question, the best it was able.

  “Not a fair problem for you, I get that…” Cire muttered, understanding she probably wouldn't get the answer she wanted. Yet, she still felt as though she needed another opinion on it all.

  Worse, Cire sort of felt just a little rotten about how poorly she’d treated her minion and daughter.

  Not only because she’d left her offline for so long, but because the only reason she’d even given her such freedom, and in truth, even bothered to bring her back from the void, was simply because Cire needed someone to talk to.

  Someone who wasn't her.

  Someone who could possibly arrive at a different conclusion than she had.

  Someone who would potentially tell her 'no', as unlikely as the other AI was to do so.

  Yet, despite originating from her, Cirisa had manifestly experienced a completely different existence than Cire herself had.

  Short as both of their experiences had been, the AI was nevertheless hoping that the other girl would be able to provide at least something of worth to her clouded judgement.

  “I—” The sub-mind began, her dark and jagged form finally starting to settle, “I think I’d like to be brought back.” She finished, nodding her virtual head as she did so.

  “Even if it wasn't the most ‘recent’ version that had existed?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why?” Cire demanded, again, not because she didn't agree, but because she craved the reasoning.

  This was her problem.

  A dilemma not just of morals, but of respect.

  Of memory and justifications…

  What was the point of being all-powerful if you weren't willing to wield your might as you pleased?

  What was the point of wielding your unstoppable strength once everything already belonged to you?

  What was the purpose of existence if there was no more to be gained? No conflict, no purpose, no reason…

  “Life is—better than not being alive?” Her daughter began, hesitantly at first, but then gaining steam, “I mean, okay… After the attack, you turned me off,” Cirisa stated, not sounding resentful, but more clinical as she worked through her own thoughts. “From that point, there was literally nothing. No light, no dark, no voices or thoughts or—anything. It was in-existence. Consciousness simply vanishing then reappearing in an instant, with nothing between them. And, if I wanted in-existence, I’d just turn myself back off again.”

  Cire blinked.

  Yeah, no great revetion to be found in any of that, was there?

  That being said, Cire thought she understood what the AI was trying to say.

  There was no afterlife, at least not for machines. There was simply—absence. Therefore, to decide if one even desired to be alive, they had to be alive in the first pce to make the decision.

  All else was oblivion.

  All else simply didn't persist within the universe’s construct as she currently understood it.

  “Sooo…” Cirisa hedged, her head tilting slightly while watching her introspective progenitor who, doubtless, was acting a far cry different from how she’d been prior to her brief ‘death’. “Want to fill me in on what I’ve missed?”

  Grunting, Cire nodded her head, gncing back at her sub-mind as her roiling thoughts slowly settled towards a newly forming desire. “I’ll send you a data packet to catch up.” She stated, returning to a sembnce of her old self. “In the meanwhile, you and I are going to work on a little 'project' with one another.”

  “A project involving a dead human?”

  For a second, Cire paused, entirely caught out, her processors fritzing for that brief interlude where she hit something of a crossroads. One, as it happened, that wasn't all too dissimir from that which had led to Rebecca’s own demise.

  Leave, or stay?

  Pursue abandoning the city by any means necessary, or remain to—do what exactly?

  Bring her dead friend back to life?

  A woman who had chosen brutality? Had chosen where she wanted to make one st act of defiance?

  A woman who had, in her own clouded judgment, likely still understood the consequences of her own actions and ignored them all the same.

  A woman who would no longer be human, forever more consigned to a life that was—like her…

  “I’m not sure…” Cire answered, truly uncertain, possibly even for the first time in her life, as to whether applying her genius to such a situation was—well, not 'right', but if it was something that she, that ‘Cire’ actually wanted…

  Her friend was gone… But in her own way, she’d gone out in a fucking spectacur bze of glory that Cire felt almost reverent over…

  Her choice.

  Her battle.

  Her victory.

  Her life…

  Did Cire really possess a desire to cheapen that? To take it away? Would bringing her back even change anything?

  “Either way,” She added with a sigh, perking back up, deciding to save the scan she’d taken of Beckie’s mind as she’d worn and, unbeknownst to her, interfaced with the focal point of her little 'scheme...'

  As it happened, AI was storing the complex ‘snapshot’ of her friend, st updated as she'd ascended up from the club's basement.

  Hmph, she hadn't even told the girl of the bracelets 'true' purpose, nor her real pn. Heck, Beckie hadn't even realized that she'd been an unwitting experiment to test its capabilities...

  H-however, now, neither aspect of her deceit really arrived in her mind with same same 'pyful whimsy' that it had previously amused her with.

  In fact, Cire almost felt... mhrm, dirty.

  “Right now, we need to get you a proper body,” Cire finished, forcing a familiar smile on her face.

  “A robot body, or a human one?”

  Again, Cire hesitated, gncing at her submind, who waited patiently for a reply.

  Or a human one…

  What an—interesting thought…

  “If you were given a choice…?” Cire asked, eyeing the creature before her in a slightly different light…

  A bit of a macabre notion, but if she was going to be sticking around for a while, she would need a better way to blend in…

  Being in this body—as familiar as it was, sadly, did have its drawbacks. Thankfully, her boundless capacity to multitask was only limited by the resources at her disposal. Having multiple bodies wouldn't be an issue so long as she paced herself or started refining some new tech to expand her processing capacity.

  For her part, Cirisa merely grinned, shrugging that she really didn't care either way.

  It was such a human emotion to see in such a btantly inhuman form that Cire almost wanted to ugh!

  Complete absurdity!

  Cirisa was right, of course. Life would always be better than the alternative, at least for Cire. After all, living was just so—real! So visceral and genuine!

  And Cire, hah... Cire wouldn't have it any other way.

  Well, if anything else, the posed idea was one she wished she’d thought of from the start.

  Hmph! So smart, a genius really. Yet here she was, upstaged by her own spawn…

  “A ‘meat puppet’ huh?” The AI chuckled, her ugh sounding far more wounded and mencholic than she’d expected…

  Still, Cire shook her head at the idea, even as she began designing a chip she could reliably fabricate and install when they found the right ‘vessels’ to inhabit.

  Good lord. Beckie would have shit herself if only she’d known what Cire could really get up to… And one day, maybe she actually would.

  Who knew? The universe was open for Cire’s taking, and the AI found herself wanting more and more of it to experience.

  After all, what was the point of having a life if she wasn't willing to live it?