/me watches bullet being deflected from shield and hitting Frank's head with an apathetic face...
『You just killed Frank... Congrats... You are a murderer like me now...』
『Not really... He was still breathing faintly so with proper medical help it wouldn't have been impossible to save him... You dealt a finishing blow...』
A given mission, mechanical assault, manufactured devotion.
Red eyes, an upside-down form. Even the twisted shape was made to be that way.
No matter how cruel the slaughter, worse than a demon's,
or how gentle the kindness, greater than an angel's,
a machine has neither will nor madness—only code, and a few bugs.
So why, then, does it feel so unbearably sad?