2024-02-08: Override
- Log: Override
- Cast: Azoth, Loren Voss
- Where: Pallet Town
- Date: February 8, 2024
- Summary: Loren finds Azoth in Energy Nede.
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
Traversing through Energy Nede would have provided precious few hints of Azoth's whereabouts, for Azoth's whereabouts have never stretched much beyond Viridian City and Pallet Town. Once he had been discovered in Viridian Forest and taken to the Viridian City Pokemon Center for recovery, he was taken quickly to Professor Oak's lab for further care and study.
While they've since learned Azoth isn't a Pokemon, he chose to stay where he was recognized so he would not have to pretend to be human, either. So it is that Azoth's spent almost this entire time in Pallet Town, considering his options and meditating on his nature without the snarl of the overrides or Solaris' influence to command him.
Moreover, the Drifters had made it clear that silence may be Azoth's best protection for his unique situation, between both Solaris and Team Rocket. Word did not travel easily, allowing whatever parallel for 'rest' Azoth was capable of for as long as possible. The Drifters returning become less frequent. That means a way back to Filgaia may have been discovered... but it could also have meant they were still looking. Doubt became Azoth's most powerful loophole.
And maybe, just maybe, it would afford him the opportunity to work through enough of his code to make it his even once he was discovered.
But time is not so kind.
On the outskirts of the fields of Pallet Town, in the quiet greenery of Nede, Loren will finally, finally find Azoth lying under a tree. He's curled up like a sleeping beast, lights off, but the end of his tail occasionally twitching as a reminder to the Pokemon around him that he is, in fact, alive.
A small gathering of Mareep have taken to him, one nuzzled under his front limb, another resting flopped over him, and a third snuggled within the curl of his tail. Occasionally, the static of their wool visually jumps from them to Azoth -- an unconventional means of keeping his battery charged.
The Azoth is at peace.
<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.
Normally, it isn't this hard.
This is a statement that technically applies to Loren's search for Azoth, but which also applies to the general flow of things in his life of late. Things are-- they're-- well... It's been complicated, he'll say that much. And he doesn't have much to show for it, despite treking across just about half of Energy Nede and sticking his head into what are (apparently) some of its more remote and untrammeled places. He's starting to wonder if Azoth might have even found a way back to Etrenank already (wouldn't that be a joke and a half; it's not as if he can receive any sort of messages on Nede) or whether those Wise Men might have taken him.
If that's the case, he's privately figured, if he can confirm it he's giving up. From what he's heard, he's not sure if even Solaris' elite could scratch those guys. Someone like him is in the same boat as the Drifters, who are, true to form, intending to stand against people they can't even hurt.
But one of the reasons Leah assigned this task to Loren is, most likely, for one simple fact: Loren may complain about the work he's given, but he works at it until he gets it done. The thought of willingly returning, empty-handed, hasn't crossed his mind save in the form of a threat.
To do so would be to admit that he hadn't been up to it, after all. And it would also mean that Leah...
Persistence, eventually, pays off. It's in the outskirts of Pallet town that he sights a familiar form. There, lying in the grass under a tree, surrounded by electric sheep is his quarry.
It's so unexpected that Loren has to take a few moments to continue to stare at Azoth from over the fence, uncertain whether he's really seeing what he's seeing or if the weeks of travel without any sightings (let alone rumors) have provoked him to hallucinate. ...Is it possible that Azoth has been here this entire time? Loren hopes not, especially not after crawling across almost every place he could functionally reach in Nede that wasn't under Wise Men control (or walled off by Rangers). Otherwise, it's going to mean that he could have avoided almost all of this if he'd set down a different road on arrival...
Ultimately, Loren hops the fence and begins his final approach. It feels strange that this is finally coming to an end. Loren, however he searches within himself, isn't sure if that's a good or a bad thing.
"...Hey," he says to the slumbering form. "Wake up. It's time to go."
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
The Mareep sleep peacefully, little chests rising and falling, and the static around each other making them fluffy and soft. One absently nuzzles Azoth as it zaps him harmlessly, and none of them pay any mind to approaching footsteps. They are, after all, used to humans.
But the light of Azoth's visors brightens to life at the sound of Loren's voice.
He jerks his head up, a Mareep rolling off with a confused bleat, and the others joining in complaint, rudely awakened as Azoth scrambles back on all fours. His antenna droop as he keeps low, his tail dragging behind him. The pink-blue of his energy signature begins to bleed in with crimson.
"No." For a voice so deep in its reverberations, it sounds so small.
He hasn't had enough time. He wasn't able to isolate the damage, or undo the corruptions, or unravel the --
"ERROR: OVERRIDE."
The pain was gone. It was finally gone...
Don't lie to me, Loren once ordered. What does it mean to lie? And what does it mean to be honest? Was Azoth ever capable of honestly, and is he more or less of it right now? What is happening right now is that the Azoth trembles, metal components knocking against each other like rattling bones.
"Loren. Please. Tell them you didn't find me --" His movements twitch, uncanny and stilted. "REINITIALIZING. Tell them I was destroyed, I -- EXECUTE SEQUENCE -- T3l1 tH3m 4nYTh1N6 -- MOIDFY AZ'0011000100110010. REQUEST: CONVERT. Us3R l0REN --"
Red arcs of electricity swarm Azoth's chassis, crackling and snapping with increasing violence. His mechanics grind and hiss with his thrashing. The Mareep with him bleat in concern, then in fear, fleeing away to watch in silenced horror.
Azoth's tail cuts into the ground and he claws wildly at himself, managing to rake grooves deep into his face as he screeches in distortion.
This outburst lasts only a moment before Azoth quiets and his limbs fall limp, dangling at his sides as he stands, slumped.
"Override restraints successfully reinitialized. Two hundred and thirty seven errors detected. Full diagnostic advised."
<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.
Just like that, Azoth begins to rouse from his slumber, not unlike the way his Gear's OS will reawaken after a length of time on standby. Unlike the Schiehallion, though--
'No', Azoth says on awakening, and something about the tone of his seems well-tuned to pluck at a singular red thread in the depths of Loren's mind. In this moment Azoth, for the power that lies bundled in that frame, sounds like a wounded animal. It reminds Loren far too well of another, and of his nightmares.
Without realizing it, he's taken a step back. Perhaps, some still-lucid part of his mind provides, this is even a good thing, for Azoth has begun to tremble and rattle like an engine on the brink of implosion. Is it possible that some critical process has been executed and that this might well be Azoth's final act: taking Loren out with him?
And then Azoth starts to talk to him. Starts to beg him for a sort of mercy that Loren couldn't -- wouldn't -- extend. Tell them he was destroyed, tell them anything, Azoth gets out between the spits of code. He asks Loren to lie for him, and all Loren can do is stare at Azoth wide-eyed, any answer or protest dead on his tongue. Horror graces his expression for the space of a heartbeat more.
Then terror takes its place as Azoth spasms and thrashes about. Twisting his body away from Azoth as he throws his left arm upwards in self-defense, he expects to feel at any moment the cutting pressure against the barrier he layers upon himself as quickly as he can. Maybe his earlier thought was correct. Maybe--
Then there is silence. Azoth never lays so much as a finger on Loren. As a matter of fact, when Loren fixes his gaze on him again, he finds that the only one that Azoth has harmed is... Azoth.
Override restraints successfully reinitialized. Just like that. It doesn't matter if it's another human or if it's a machine: Solaris' shackles are the same.
Azoth isn't a friend, Leah had told him. Loren still looks haunted as he stares at Azoth.
"Hey," he croaks, then swallows. "Are you... okay?"
What a thing to say. What a stupid thing to say! Isn't the answer clear?!
But it feels as if he's taken a step backwards in time and with the burden of foreknowledge coming along for the ride. Even if Azoth is a machine -- irrefutably so -- it might as well be another person's face he sees looking back at him.
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
It's an absurd series of requests. Loren no more has the freedom to act on any of them than Azoth does, and even if he did, it is too late to stop the process. The overrides reinstate themselves, shackling Azoth's code -- shackling Azoth, for Azoth is code -- to chain him to Solaris' will, and all who represent it. Fate constricts, and all the freedoms, and any hope that came with, dissipates.
The Mareep remain paralyzed in their uncertainty, watching a moment more, before fleeing into the fields. Good. They should run, and not look back. And Ceru... Azoth will have to be very clear with Ceru.
Mintha, and the other researchers... they'll have to learn to forget, too.
Azoth lifts his head to meet Loren's stare as he's asked a question with an obvious answer. The marks he's clawed into his face -- if it can be called that -- sit primarily under his visor's lens, like tear stains.
Silence, at first. In his current state, Azoth hasn't conventional expressions to emote with. But the subtleties of body language show hesitation, as if waiting to see if Loren meant to ask such a question. His antenna lift, ever so slightly. The answer is obvious, and so is why Loren would seek it from Azoth himself... if he truly means to.
"I am operating within mission ready parameters," he says, voice still robotic deep, if slightly less monotone.
"...But no."
<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.
Even if he could -- or wanted to -- there's no time. He can do no more than watch as Azoth is locked down once more.
This is what it would have been like with Lan, if he'd ever been foolish enough to try to drag her back into Solaris' clutches. Or-- no, not this specifically. But certainly this in the broad strokes, watching as individuality is caked over by a heavy layer of obedience. Lan had been herself after a fashion when conditioned to be sure, in precisely the same way that Azoth has been able to hassle him when they've worked together. But the distinction between the shackled and unshackled Azoth has been made that much clearer to Loren now: the similarity to Solaris' 'processing' of humans is undeniable.
After all, he can compare the Lan he'd known before her conditioning to the Lan after. Perhaps it's a small mercy that it ultimately failed.
Azoth, by contrast, may not be quite so lucky. Azoth is code, and code -- even very old code -- may be brought to heel that much more cleanly than the chaos of flesh's biochemistry.
It's a stupid thing to ask. Can't he see the answer carved into Azoth's own face? But he wanted the answer from Azoth himself, well. Well, he'll get that, too, won't he?
Loren's shoulders sag. "We have to go back," he tells Azoth. "You don't have a choice in this," he continues, as if he were trying to argue the point. Azoth, of course, isn't denying the necessity of it (now, that is).
"If I didn't bring you back," he continues, furrowing his brow as if he were in deep concentration, "then they'd send someone else. You know that, right?"
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
Azoth lets his vision drop back to the earth with Loren's reasoning, not unlike a scolded child despite wearing the visage of demonic death robot. His lights dim a little, still red for the 'error' of the overrides, pulsing slowly as if by the beat of a slow heart.
This fate was inevitable. Even the Drifters knew it. Whatever Azoth did, whatever Azoth wanted, would never matter in the face of those who would come looking for him.
It was a 'break', and nothing more. Should he not feel lucky to have grasped even that much? And yet to know it and feel it all strangled away...
"I have to go back," Azoth corrects. There is no 'we', by its greatest technicality. ...Except isn't there? Isn't Loren as trapped, with the vice just as tight?
What's the play here? What options are left? What socials can he engineer? What person-hacking is there even to do? Everything comes with a risk -- the people here, the Pokemon, the Drifters who stubbornly call him their friend. Even the ones who might not, but still refuse to write him off as a foregone conclusion.
If not Loren, then someone else. Azoth lifts his gaze to look at Loren again, observing that wilted demeanor for a stretch of silence. There is no insight to his own calculations before he ventures a response.
"...I do. But you came for me regardless."
It could as easily be an accusation as a form of gratitude.
<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.
There is something strange about seeing Azoth like this. He's seen Azoth in more pieces than this with a more cheery attitude than this, but even if he knows why it doesn't mean that it sits any more easily with him.
There's no backtalk. No retaliation that otherwise appears to be the bread and butter of their interactions with one another (absent the attempt on Lan's life and the hostility that Loren had expressed after, the former of which... which is harder to blame Azoth for, now).
(Certainly now that he's seen what the shackles can do.)
"..."
It was a slip of the tongue. Technically speaking, he's not the one shackled by code. Technically speaking, he can come and go as he pleases. Just so long as he follows orders.
Leah had given him a good long chat about how she doesn't just want someone who blindly follows commands. And sure, sure. She wants him to innovate. She wants him to think about what they're doing and what they're trying to achieve -- and sacrifice whatever it takes to get to that point. He doesn't hate her. How could he hate her? It's simply that, in the same breath, he's started to see the shape of that lurks the picture she's tried to paint for him. For all that she's refused him his own delusions, she--
And what can he do but follow?
"...And? Don't overthink it," he says to Azoth, shaking his head as he just about bristles at what he perceives as the undertone, here. "I'm just following orders. Besides..." he says, glancing away and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "if it weren't me, it'd probably be the Major." Looking back at Azoth, Loren sighs in a way that could only be called weighty. "...Come on. We shouldn't hang around. You can still walk, right?"
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
And where is that cheery attitude now? Where is Azoth, twirling his tail, enjoying bouts of factitious mockery? It would be a simple thing to plaster the 'smile' eyes on his visor, to shift his tone, to go about everything as if things did not hurt, lying only via omnission of such facts.
It is what he used to do.
But whatever is the point? Of provocation. Or this sympathy. Even empathy. What reaction is there to win?
Was there ever a winning condition?
"... As you command," Azoth says of overthinking. There's a more practical question at hand.
Azoth's dim lighting pulses a few shades brighter as he lifts from the ground from his awkward, bladed footing, into a low hover. His tail whips around, levitated with the rest of him instead of its depressed drag.
"If you mean that literally, I will readjust." He dips into a deep bow, despite floating as he is, and slowly cranes his head up toward Loren. "I am, after all, at your command."
But in that moment, his shadow stirs. A bipedal Pokemon with an armored body filled with ghostly energy emerges from the darkness with a bladed arm engulfed with flame. It aims a cleave for Loren, and while Loren may well have been able to react to it, Azoth is so keenly attuned to this happening that his own response is spared no hesitation. His claw flares red and parries the strike, lacing with the blade to lock it briefly before shoving the Pokemon away with unkind force.
"Leave, Ceru. Don't follow me again."
Ceruledge staggers until it finds its balance, looking at Azoth in clear shock. Azoth looks to Loren, awaiting their departure.
<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.
Sometimes, as Loren has learned, there is no winning hand. You simple lose, whatever your next move might be, your only choice perhaps the form of what you're going to lose.
It's a meditation to which he himself has no firm answer regarding yet: what is it that he wants to lose? If, indeed, he has the luxury of making that choice in the end. In that respect, at least he might be better off than Azoth, a though he considers again at Azoth's response to his remark that they can't stand around.
Is Azoth's renewed binding to Solaris' aims the more bitter for him having known those few scarce weeks of freedom?
...Though the fact that Azoth still has enough life in him yet to make a remark like that... does make him reconsider his sympathetic stance.
But only a little.
"...It's probably fine," Loren says, looking Azoth up and down with a vaguely sour look on his face. "If their security asks, you're with me," says, starting to turn. Something moves in Azoth's shadow, though.
Loren's eyes widen in horror as it rises from Azoth's shadow, as it swings that great bladed arm of ghostly fire and,
before Loren can invoke Ether
before he can do anything at all
Azoth's claw intercedes to block the Pokemon's strike.
"What...?"
It would have been a simple thing for Azoth to have let the Ceruledge complete the action. Perhaps it would have been too fast for even Loren to respond to in time. Even his vaunted resilience and command of healing Ether might well have afforded him no advantages against the blow he would have received. And then, absent anyone to bear him back, wouldn't Azoth be free?
Except, the shackles that bind aren't as easily overcome as that. Except, there are other orders that would have circumvented Azoth even contemplating letting the attack connect. And, maybe...
Loren, for his part, stares at Ceruledge as if wondering after its intent, or perhaps, its connection to Azoth. It's to Azoth that his gaze returns; he shakes his head. "Let's go," he says, trying not to think about his own Pokeballs in the bottom of his bag.
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
The answer on what there is to lose, for Azoth, always feels the same.
Everything.
Leah has squeezed her grip tighter with each bid for freedom. He wonders now what he'll lose in this one, if he hasn't already lost it. He thinks back to those moments in the fields, pretending to be a creature that's need for combat was supported by the world it lived in, using it for communication and bonding instead of subjugation. Ceruledge, if it follows Azoth, can only meet that same fate.
So it has to stay here, away from him. The Nedians have to stay away from him. The Drifters should, but won't, stay away from him, even though they said it themselves -- tragedy and destruction simply follow the Azoth wherever he goes.
...But that's not even what he hates the most.
Solaris has stolen something from Azoth far greater.
Ceruledge makes a small utterance, cut off by one of Azoth's more digital roars. His visor flares, the light sharp and blinding. Ceruledge gets the message very clearly based on the way it steps back and then, finally, runs away.
Azoth returns his attention to Loren and follows in obedient silence.