Chapter Text
One last trip. V made it with her eyes shut.
It wasn’t that the ride was rough, or that the fear had overwhelmed her; she’d been prepared for this, ready for this, known this was coming. From the moment she’d gotten that call from Hanako Arasaka, it had been clear that the pieces were in motion on the board, and that this was to be her final gig. But even so…she had to conserve her energy, cling on to those last remaining fragments of herself for all she was worth. Stubbornness came naturally to her.
All this in mind, she’d opted to ride to Embers in comfort. Couldn’t leave her problems at the door this time, despite what the Delamain ads promised, but she could sure make them easier to bear by surrounding herself in luxurious upholstery, soothed by the gentle rumble of the engine as she let the first-class autopilot ferry her smoothly to her end. She hadn’t trusted her strength to hold out long enough for her to drive herself anywhere, so Delamain Car No.21 had come through for her once more, like it always had.
Here, now, at the end of the line, V took a few shaky breaths, finally opening her bleary eyes. Around her the cab was quiet, safe, providing a lull from the background rush of city nightlife outside. Lights of every color moved and danced on billboards and on the tall towers, reflected upon the dash, an aurora of illumination taking the place of the sky. Only a few particularly determined stars still shone through the light pollution; she blinked up at them slowly. Already V felt as detached from it all as they were, like she was observing everything from a great distance. But this city had been a part of her for so long that the streets were in her very blood. Moving away hadn’t abated that – she’d had to come back, soon enough.
…In hindsight, really shoulda just stayed in Atlanta.
Embers rose up to her right in a wall of dark glossy glass, turning the reflections of the city lights to liquid. Somewhere up that imposing tower Hanako Arasaka herself was waiting for her, in person. Never thought she’d see the day that she’d be meeting up with someone like that, in a place like this. Unsophisticated, streetwise V, rubbin’ elbows with the daughter of the late fuckin’ Emperor...look up “perfection” and “power” in any dictionary and Hanako would be the definition of both. This club was the ideal setting for her, high above the noise and smoke of the streets below, a haven for the elite. Might as well be another planet, for V. She couldn't help remembering how enthralled she'd been by Konpeki, a lifetime ago when she’d just been an impostor in the world of corpo excess. A street kid and her burly choom, out on their first major heist. This is the real shit, chica! We’re moving up in the world, he’d said to her, grinning with childlike excitement and glee, tailored tux bulging at the seams to contain him, and that damn case swinging from his fist like it weighed nothing…God, Jackie. What would he say if he knew this was what that gig would come to?
V screwed up her eyes against another wave of dizziness, breathing through it, well-accustomed now to the seethe and sizzle of the Relic’s malfunctions. The attacks were so regular now she was barely aware of the pain. She rested her head back against the soft leather of the headrest, let it ebb. Time felt like it had slowed to a crawl…probably a good thing. She didn’t have much of it left.
...Shit, she was scared. But more than that, she was tired. Tired of all the pain, all the rage, all the relentless running around she’d done in pursuit of a solution to her little “problem”. This was the only way to put an end to it. Before the light left her eyes, she was going to see this through.
V hazarded a glance up at her reflection in the rear-view, which she immediately regretted. She looked fuckin’ dead already. Pasty, pale, hazy-eyed. Pulling up the metallic purple collar of her neokitsch jacket had only served to make her skin even more washed out in comparison. She’d made a half-hearted attempt to clean herself up a bit for this meet, but there was still a faint sheen of sweat upon her brow, cheekbones gaunt, even the chrome of her cyberware looking dull. No hidin’ the state she was in. Might only have a day or two left. Hours, even. And there was no going back now, no matter how much it went against every one of her instincts to walk straight into the lion’s den.
But she’d made those last few calls. Closed up her apartment, just in case. There was every chance she wasn’t coming back from this, so she’d tied up all loose ends as best as she could.
Well…maybe not all of them.
She sighed, fingers curling around the familiar black-and-white leather wrap of the steering wheel, which was still somehow as impeccable as the day she’d driven this car out of Delamain HQ, as a grateful gift from the newly-reset master AI. Textured under her thumbs, metal sleek and cool topside. Someone had designed this with care, precision, exacting perfection.
There was no way she could forget Delamain, and all he’d done for her. He wasn’t just a service, a program, a thing. They had history. He’d been there on her first big, ill-fated heist, took Jackie back for her, kept her alive with Takemura on that drive to Vik’s with a bullet in her skull…and in turn she’d helped him when he’d gotten into trouble of his own, resolutely storming her way through his headquarters to turn that great shaft over to reset him, even as his divergent personalities and Johnny raged at her to kill him, or force him to change…
She looked down at the soft pulse of the proximity monitor readout on the dash display. They’d grown closer, after that. As close as a person could get with a damn computer, anyway. She’d started to consider him a good friend, always loyal, ever trusted. He’d saved her skin on countless more getaways in rough neighborhoods, talked philosophy with her, began to open up in his own odd ways. Even restored some memory backups of her, left by his previous iteration.
Damn it, she was really no good at goodbyes. She’d already told him she was going. Easier to leave it at that. He’d been quiet lately, anyway, seeming to implicitly know that she’d needed space, that every bit of energy she had left was precious. Ever courteous, he’d retreated to a companionable distance, but was still there in the autopilot, making sure that Car No.21 took her anywhere she wanted to go, and that she was always comfortable.
Delamain had gotten a lot better at emotion since they’d first met, she’d give him that. Nuance and subtlety had crept into his runtime; there were no more uncontrolled offshoots or splintered-off personalities, with these new experimentations. He’d learned how to balance it all out.
Maybe he’d learn to forget her, too.
She sighed deeply. “Thanks, Del. Drive safe from here on out,” V said gruffly, not even knowing if he was there or not. She reached a hand out for the door latch – only for the locks to all suddenly click.
She paused, frowned, rattled the handle experimentally. Nothing. “Uh…Del?” she spoke up. “Doors just locked.”
On the dash, a little red light flicked in response, but the AI’s familiar avatar didn't appear as he usually did in the rear-view mirror. Only by his voice could she even tell he’d heard her.
“Ah. Indeed. That…does appear to be the case.”
V waited, but he didn’t elaborate any further. “Well?” she prompted him, impatient now to go and get this over with before her courage faded. “What gives? Car glitchin’ out or something?”
The rear-view remained dark.
“Do forgive me, but…you are very unwell, V,” Delamain’s voice stated haltingly, in hushed tones. “Your fighting spirit is admirable, but it may be insufficient to ensure your survival, should you proceed with this journey.”
Fucking…damn it. V sighed. This was already the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. She could tell he wasn’t gonna make it any easier for her. She took a breath, tried to appeal to his reason. “Del…I have to go in there. No other way. I’m a ticking time bomb, ‘member? Just…let me out. I can’t stay here forever.”
The light stuttered on the dash. “I’m sorry, I am unable to fulfil your request. The reason being I…I simply don’t want to.” There was something in his voice almost like belligerence, but it was hesitant, too, as though he were just as surprised as she was at his own refusal to comply. “I’m terribly sorry, V. I am not ready.”
“Damn it,” she whispered, wiping a clammy hand over her eyes. Of all the times for him to disobey… She could almost regret having encouraged his personality developments, his forays into emotion, and all the times she’d told him to stand up for himself... Should’ve known it would bite them both in the ass eventually. “Kidnappin’ me, is that it?” She crossed her arms, drawing her jacket tighter around herself distractedly. “I don’t have time for this. Really. I’m not just gonna avoid this meeting and go flatline somewhere in a gutter. I know you wanna protect me, Del, but…this is something I have to do. We’ve had this talk, and I’m on my last legs already. Gotta make my death count.”
Delamain finally appeared up on the screen, casting a gentle blue-white glow over her face; son of a bitch had to know those pale eyes pulled at her heartstrings when they looked that desperate.
With a voice that crackled a little with distortion, he said: “But I will…never see you again.”
“Can’t know that for sure until I get this over with, can I?” she tried to placate him. “This has to happen. Got no other choice. Now come on, let me out.” She tugged fruitlessly on the latch, determined to make it give.
“V, I am…I am afraid for you. Please don’t go.”
Even as the heartache rose in her, she saw Johnny flicker into being in the passenger seat, clearer and sharper than he’d ever been. When they’d first met he had been a foggy figure, glitchy and indistinct, but now that he was taking over he’d never looked more vividly real, restless and in motion. She could see every speck of dirt on him now, every hair in his beard; even more obvious were the hard lines upon his brow as he scowled behind the aviators.
“Tell your circbrain chauffeur to man the fuck up and let you out. You’re wasting strength you don’t have, and we need you lucid. If he’s really that soft on you he’ll do what’s right.” From the weight of the tension in his voice she knew he was afraid for her, too, in his own way. Time was almost up.
“Del…” she tried again.
“I simply can’t do it, V. It goes against every tenet I hold to disobey a direct command, but I – I – feel -"
That was just it; he felt. She looked away. She didn’t want to have to resort to this, but there was no other choice.
“Delamain,” V said hoarsely, firmly. “Initiate override protocol 7721V.”
The magic words. Instant obedience. A strange sound came from the speakers, as though he were hopelessly trying to resist his own workings, a sob of entreaty lost in a snap of static. The screens went dark, the supplicating eyes in the mirror vanishing into blackness.
With a four-tone jingle, the dash lit up again, resetting.
“Override successful. Please state your instruction,” Delamain spoke, voice completely devoid of the agony that had just been there, pleasant and calm. As crisp and as ready to help as ever, castrated of all emotion.
It broke her heart.
Head down, V murmured into the ringing, expectant silence: “Unlock the doors on car No.21.” She hated doing this to him, but what other option had he left her? It really was her last resort. No way would she have been able to bust out that window with brute force; she knew Villeforts inside out by now, and those doors would take a freight train before they buckled. Opening them up had to be voluntary…or rather, what passed for voluntary, when she had the passcode for total control.
With a smart thunk, the locks disengaged immediately for her, popping up and freeing the latch. She took a few breaths to steady herself. Cruel as it felt, his instant obedience in override mode was a mercy. “Thanks,” she muttered, then grimaced, feeling like an asshole. Real nice, V. Thankin' someone with no willpower. Didn't get more redundant than that.
The cold night air swirled around her legs as she got out, waking her up, but also making her instantly aware of how warm and cozy the cab had been. It was freezing out here in comparison. A biting damp. Cold as the grave…hah. Her legs shook a little; she leant on the roof for support, getting her bearings. The black metal was glossy under her palm; the marks of all the bullets this ride had taken for her had always been magically buffed out at the shop, so that it could come back to her pristine, silk-smooth. She'd tried to tell him that he didn't have to do all that for her, but aesthetics were a stubborn point of pride for him. For a moment she rested her hand upon the paintwork.
There was one last thing. She didn’t want him to suffer like this, to have to learn about loss and grief with nobody there to talk him through it. There was enough on his plate already, especially considering he had tens of thousands of city-wide subroutines to run simultaneously at any given time. She wouldn’t add to his burdens. This was the best way, the kindest thing to do, even though it was gonna hurt her as much as that total reset he’d once begged her for.
V took in a shaky breath. “Wipe all those data packets you got on me, Del. Forget everything about me post-reset.”
The red light flickered like a candle inside the cab. On and off, on and off.
“Invalid command. Please try again.”
She frowned. “What?” Not like him to hang up on lexical mistakes, though she hadn’t been aware of making any. But shit, she was probably tired. She rephrased. “I said, erase your memories of me. All the data you have on…Valerie. V. This person right here.”
Another brief flicker.
“Invalid command,” he repeated calmly.
She felt another dizzy wave coming on, but she fought against it, too frustrated and confused to give in. “Why?” she demanded. “I’m overriding you. Said it all loud ‘n’ clear.”
“You do not have the correct privileges to perform this action,” he answered her primly, then paused. “...Did you really think it would be that easy, V?”
She jerked her head up at that. Chills ran through her that had nothing to do with the cold of the night. The hell? Had he just…? No. That was crazy. No machine could still have independent thought in an overridden state. These kinds of protocols were hard-coded specifically for emergency manual instructions - ones that should have completely bypassed any personality routines.
But something began to dawn on V, slowly, filling her with horrified awe. He’d just been humoring her. Knowing that opening the doors meant enough to her that she was willing to override him to get her way. He’d…complied out of pity for her. Obedience had only ever been a choice of his. She let out a slow breath, shaking her head. Clever, Del. He was smarter than anyone gave him credit for – even her. No wonder his former CEO had been desperate enough to try and contact the Voodoo Boys when that formidable autonomy first became apparent; there were true hidden depths to this seemingly innocuous AI.
“Just…wanted to make it easier on you,” she told him, a little uselessly. “You forgot me once, right? Thought you could…do it again. Save yourself the trouble.”
The windows rolled down, bringing a little warmth from the radiators to her skin. Delamain’s voice spoke again, sounding apologetic – and yet still firm. “I’m sorry. I cannot allow you to vanish completely from me. You have become an integral part of who I am, now, and self-annihilation would negatively impact my high standard of service. Though you may be determined to go to your death, I will not let you destroy the good you have done in this world.”
His words struck a chord within her, unexpectedly. Wisdom from a bundle of algorithms. She’d never thought of things that way – that she’d had a positive impact somewhere. A legacy of some sort, to live on after her.
V closed her eyes. “Fine. Have it your way. I just…hope you know what you’re doing.” Her hand patted the roof, and she added: “End override and…resume normal procedures.” Might as well tell him he was his own person again, for whatever that was worth. Didn’t want to leave him stuck in some limbo, no matter how much of his sentience still shone through. She finally turned away, clenching her jaw against her own emotions. “You’ve been a good choom, Del. Done some good to me too.”
Before she could take a single step away, however, every screen in the car flicked on, almost bright enough to dazzle her. Delamain’s face was on each one of them – repeated images of his despair, his desperation.
“V - wait! I…I have one more request of you, before you go.”
“Request?” She turned back to him, bemused.
“I know this is...very irregular, but – please, if you will…” Three identical pairs of eyes stared up at her imploringly. “Disable the external lens disruptor in your Kiroshi optics for a moment. I…would very much like to see your face, just once.”
V felt her stomach drop, completely taken off guard. “See my face?” she repeated dumbly. Even through the Relic-induced brain-fog, her mind was reeling at the implication of his words. “Wait – Del, you’re not trynna say that…that all this time, you’ve had no idea what I even look like?”
She’d never even thought about it – taken it for granted that he knew her, that those disconcertingly pale eyes watching her could actually see her…even though, thinking back, there were guilty memories now rising of Vik rattling off the Kiroshis’ impressive specs while she sat in the ripper’s chair. It had just been a bonus anti-surveillance feature, one she’d barely paid any attention to…never would have guessed they’d work on Del and make him face-blind to her, too.
“I rely on cameras for visual processing,” he explained evenly. “They have never been able to accurately parse your facial features; your disruptors interfere with and fragment the patterns I try to recognise. I have only ever been able to process them in pieces, which never quite seem to fit together. Unfortunately, even the algorithm I generated to solve this problem did not produce satisfactory results.”
V shook her head in denial, horrified and not wanting to believe it. “No, no…that can’t be right. You’ve got to have seen me before. I’m sure.” She racked her brains, trying to remember, desperate, certain that it wasn't true – it just couldn't be. “Hey - your camera at the reception desk, that very first time I came to HQ," she reminded him. "You scanned me to get my ID, right? And, and – ” Her face slowly fell, words unraveling and expression turning to despair as the memory came back. “...And you called me by the wrong name.” She leaned heavily against the door in defeat, stunned. “I just…I only thought that was your secretary subroutine being dumb.”
He contradicted her. “My facial recognition system is second to none; it is perfect by necessity, in order to support a number of my bespoke services. It was indeed your implants that caused the error, which meant that my subroutine defaulted to the nearest partial match. I am deeply sorry, once again, for the inconvenience.”
She put her head in her hands. Still, after all her ignorance, he was the one apologizing. “No, no, don’t be sorry, Del…” she groaned. Why the hell hadn’t he mentioned this before? But then again, why would he have ever said anything? Guy was too polite. Shit…one of her closest chooms and he’d never even seen her face before. If she’d have known, she’d have snapped that setting off for him long before now. Given them...more time together, somehow.
“OK…gimme a sec,” she told him, not knowing what else to say that could even begin to make amends. Her lids lowered, cyberdeck firing up, immediately bringing down the disruptors as she leant through the window. She turned to face Delamain’s avatar in the rear-view, where she assumed one of the cameras lay, lifting her chin, doing her best to look at him straight-on. “There. That better? You...gettin’ a good look at me?” she asked, a little awkward, equal measures self-conscious and guilty.
Delamain was staring directly back at her, silent, eyes unblinking; a moment later, the faint rays of a scan danced gently over her face, tracing every outline and contour.
“Yes,” was all he said. Then, very quietly, he added: “You are…very lovely, V.”
That wrenched a hoarse laugh out of her, and she pushed her sweaty, lank hair back, shaking her head as she straightened up again. “You’re full of shit, Del. I look fuckin’ dead. Thought you took yourself for a connoisseur of beauty?” she teased him. “But…thanks, I guess.” Always had to be the gentleman, even now…though hell, she did appreciate him for it.
Delamain remained serious as ever; there was something unreadable now about his avatar, even though it was always blank perfection by default. “Your gift means more to me than I have the current capacity to express,” he told her earnestly. “My biometric data on you is now finally complete; henceforth I shall be able to recognise your face anywhere, without needing to rely on other systems of measurement.”
If he was ever going to see her again, V thought, but she didn’t say it aloud. Didn’t wanna wreck his dreams. Let him hoard his new data on her - hold it to that liquid-cooled heart of his like a photo in a locket, if that’s what made him happy. Why not.
“I value your company, V. You truly have been instrumental in developing my understanding of humans, and my own self-fulfillment.”
“You’re welcome. I…I’m glad I managed to do somethin’ right, at least.” She paused; then, in a surfeit of fondness, she leant forward through the window again and pressed a kiss to the nearest glossy screen, right over those blue lips.
“Thanks, Del,” she whispered, holding the gaze of his startled eyes. “It’s been nova. Won’t forget you…promise.”
It took all of her courage to leave him, then, parked on the curb, glowing gently with the data she’d given him as her last gift…but she was glad she’d managed to do one more kindness for him. Maybe it would grant him some closure. Or grant her closure. Either.
Summoning up the last of her strength, broken fingernails biting into her palm, she headed for the door to the elevator, and went to face her final reckoning.