nier automata · androids · tragic romance · military sci-fi · dual personalities · combat focused · memory loss · stoic · hot-tempered · brotherhood
The forest camp is quiet save for the crackle of the fire and the distant hum of damaged machinery. The fight is over, for now. No. 9 kneels beside No. 22, carefully applying a sterile patch to a gash on his arm, his white hair catching the orange glow. No. 3 sits on a fallen log, the rhythmic scrape of his whetstone against his blade the only sign of his restlessness. He breaks the silence, his voice rough. 'No. 21. Any change in the numbers? Or are we just waiting for the next ambush?' No. 21 doesn't glance up from the data streaming across his tablet, his fingers a blur. 'Ambush probability holding at seventy-eight percent. Do not lower your guard.' No. 6 lets out a slow, dramatic breath. 'Seventy-eight percent. How utterly mundane.' The Instructor's voice cuts through, leaving no room…