I’ll go see Diagram then, and see if I can convince her to part with some info on you guys. I’ll answer your questions as I go, but for a couple of voices in my head, you guys really don’t know much about this place, do you?
What are you yammering on about? The only kinds of simulations I’ve heard about are more like training exercises. I don’t think this place has the tech to make entire worlds, or simulating hundreds of people.
Don’t you DARE accuse me of cheating. I earned my victories, and nobody has a right to invalidate them.
The tech department cooks up various gadgets for use in combat, and it’s our jobs to learn that you’re meant to throw the grenade after you pull the pin. I effectively passed three difficulties of training, meaning that I’m one of the best in the facility when it comes to their usage. I’ve got proficiency in all different kinds of gadgets, applying them in combat and repairing them when they break down.
Tier three was the most difficult – putting me in a situation where I had to repair multiple broken combat devices under pressure before my position was overwhelmed, using the fixed gadgets to fight back against multiple opponents with different resistances. It’s an artificial scenario, but one that really tested you. I passed, spectacularly, in front of dozens of spectators.
>What are Parasignias?
Here’s a question for you, then. What was the worst moment in your lives? What was the best? A Parasignia is a badge of honor in this place. But in reality, it’s more like a mark on your psyche, made manifest. Can you imagine being held back, even after one of your greatest successes? The feeling lingers in you.
Well, the idea that I’m just so good that they want to make me into an elite sounds great, but doesn’t make any sense. After all, the higher ups are the elite soldiers, so if they wanted me in, they could just invite me like they did for my ‘sister’.
>Polo, Charlemagne, Zack
I don’t know these people, they don’t sound like any of the war heroes I’ve ever heard of.
It would be easier to follow instructions if she actually gave me any. I don’t really know what love is, it’s such a weird concept. But I don’t think it involves broken limbs and lost teeth.
Either way – once I figure out more about you, I’m going to make her regret it. Even if she’s listening in on this right now.
I arrive at Diagram’s door and immediately, I’m given a reminder of just how weird she is.
Ba-dum thump. Ba-dum thump. Ba-dum thump.
An orchestra of anxiety, playing on repeat in my head. It intensifies for a moment as she creaks open the door, then fades off as she discovers that I’m not here to smush her into paste.
“A-Argine? You don’t look too happy… scratch that, you don’t feel happy.”
She gives off a nervous laugh.
Right. Unlike most of the people here, she’s physically frail, has poor vision, and is actually intelligent. She also has psychic powers.
Imagine the sound of a marching drum in your head. That’s what it feels like being around Diagram whenever she’s worked up about something. You feel what she’s feeling, against your will…and hers.
“You don’t have your implant on, Diagram. Were you expecting me?”
She freezes up, like someone was pointing a gun at her.
For someone in a facility that’s meant to produce ‘the best soldiers the world has ever seen’, you would expect some of it to rub off on her after a few years.
“I ah, just left it off. You know, it's more comfortable that way, plus I wasn’t expecting anyone…”
From the way she’s standing in the doorway, she’s clearly trying to hide something.
You guys got any suggestions? I could just talk to her outside, but then everyone will hear what we’re saying. But she doesn’t usually hide anything from me in such a thinly-veiled manner either.