Chapter Text
“Is... Is it over?”
“It's... It's dead! It's actually dead! We did it!!”
“It's all ours now! Nothing can stop us!!!”
“It's finally over! Victory is in our grasp! Look at this, we've won! Our true work can finally begin! Isn't it glorious!?”
“... enough. ”
“What?”
“ It's still not enough... My vengeance... It can't be satisfied yet... ”
“What... Wait! What are you doing!? Stop! An-!!! ”
–
Angela reclined in her favored plush armchair in a quiet corner of the floor. A quiet moment when the Assistant Librarians had cleared off to other floors for whatever their favored activities of relaxation might be. Angela had no issue with it. It only meant that she was able to have some time relaxing on her own with no interruptions.
Angela rested her cheek against her knuckles, reading idly through a book about the Backstreets of District L's culture. Truly a fascinating read, one she'd found tucked away in an obscure little corner that she'd not taken to analyzing too closely until she felt like wandering. She was surprised by how much she was enjoying the read. In her mind she was already cataloging questions she was planning to ask of Roland when she was finished. He was always happy to help answer her questions when she had them. They might not be of as much use as they were initially intended, since her chance to aim for humanity had well passed her by at this point. But she was still a curious creature, and she liked to learn that which was novel to her, even if it was common sense to others.
Angela almost wished she could still consume tea like she had when her body was becoming more human. Her perfect artificial memory sadly couldn't generate a reminder of taste or smell, but she did remember the feeling of being relaxed, how the warmth and presumably the other sensations brought her a sense of being soothed. It would've made a good accompaniment to her choice of reading for the day.
She had just placed a marker in the book to save her place for a moment, but just when she stood, something halted her in her tracks. Some change in the air that she couldn't quite name, yet which made her freeze as if on some deeply laid instinct.
The air rustled around her, whispering something cold and dark in a way that it never had in her library. Then, the light suddenly seemed to implode in on itself. Rather than darkness blotting out the illumination, it was more like some chasm in perception had torn open its gaping maw and was swallowing down every speck of light in the room while that single moment stretched on endlessly.
But just as quickly as it happened, it ended. And what Angela found in its place somehow unsettled her even more than what had just occurred.
It was clearly a person standing before her, or so her processing of the scene told her. However, that was just about all she could make out. It was as if someone had taken the silhouette of a person and completely punched them out of proper perception. A yawning, obvious space where she could tell someone was but couldn't discern anything else about them. A complete and utter void of a person.
“... Who-”
The rush of movement was far too fast for her to do anything but blink when it suddenly came at her. She couldn't move, could barely react aside from recognizing that whoever this was had leaped directly towards her, clearing the space between them in a fraction of a second. There wasn't even time for a fear response to trigger, just the knowledge that this person was barreling straight forward, a fist pulled back and aimed squarely at her face.
In the briefest moment before impact, Angela manage to throw herself to the side. She couldn't have said why. Even in such a sped-up moment, she knew logically that no matter if she was hit, it couldn't possibly hurt her.
Metal screeched as it buckled and caved in the space of a blinked eye, Angela's arm jerking limply as the shoulder it was attached to was nearly obliterated under the blow. And with the final bit of momentum, she went flying backwards following the flow of inertia. Great, sturdy bookshelves splintered when her body slammed into them. Books tore and bent under her weight until she tumbled heavily to the ground in a shower of shredded paper and obliterated binding.
“How odd. I managed to miss this time.” The void of a person spoke with an odd calmness. Angela shook as she pushed herself upwards, clutching at her damaged shoulder. There wasn't pain, on account of she couldn't feel any as a machine. But it was such an odd feeling. That she could no longer move that hand at her own command. If she tried, she might almost
feel
like she was flexing her fingers, but each one curled limply inward while her arm dangled at her side. “And here I thought I was going to beat my best this time, since I managed to get directly into the Library... Well. No matter.” The person stalked forward until they loomed over Angela, then raised a foot and stomped down on her chest. Angela grunted out from being forced back into the shelf again. Splinters dug in between the strands of her hair and then bent uselessly against the back of her metallic skull.
Was this what helplessness felt like in a metal body? The knowledge that her chest was being concaved by the heel pressing down against her sternum but that she was unable to stop it. She remembered the feeling of fear and helplessness to violence when she had begun to gain the sensations of flesh. That which had once felt so distant seemed to come back to her again in this moment in time.
“... Who are you?” Angela murmured, squinting her eyes in an effort to get a better look at the person bearing down on her.
“Your end, Librarian.” The cold, matter-of-fact tone left room for neither argument nor debate. “I will say, I've never had to try and properly kill a machine before. This'll be an interesting experiment at least.“
The void lifted their foot, ready to bring it down on Angela's head to crush it like a bird's egg left to helplessly roll on the ground.
“ Angela!!” The sound of that voice brought Angela a sense of relief, and made the void snap around towards it. They brought up their arms and blocked the sudden blow of a club that Roland slammed into them. They flew backwards, feet skidding against the floor until they managed to screech to a halt.
“Roland.” Angela greeted him by name as she carefully pulled herself to her feet. Without the oppressive presence of that person bearing down on her now, she grimaced and drew upon the Library's power. In a flutter of light, the damage to her body righted itself. Smoothing dents and repairing the clothes that had been damaged by the blows. Until the second passed and she was back to being herself.
“Angela, who the hell is this? Why didn't you call for me? Did they actually manage to hurt you!?”
“I'm unfortunately just as much in the dark about this person's identity as you are, Roland,” Angela replied. “They simply appeared here while I was reading. Not unlike you, as a matter of fact. They moved too quickly for me to call for you.” Angela placed a hand over her newly repaired shoulder, feeling the joint under her fingers. “I don't know if it can be considered 'hurt' since I couldn't feel pain from it, but-”
“Screw the technicalities of it! They damaged you, didn't they?!”
“... Yes. I don't know how, but they managed to damage my shoulder. If I hadn't avoided the brunt of the blow in time, I'm fairly certain they would have caved in my head.”
The interloper, who had remained quiet after their quiet threat to Angela, hadn't moved since Roland arrived. Observing the scene in front of them without a hint as to what was going on in their head. After a moment, they lifted an arm, like they were reaching a hand out towards the pair. Roland, spotting this, snapped his head back around and brandished his club menacingly in their direction. He stepped quickly to the side, putting himself fully between them and Angela.
“Don't even think about it, bastard. If you think you're putting another finger on her again, it'll be over my dead body, you got that?”
The movement of the arm hesitated mid-air. The suggestion of a head shifted, giving Roland the impression they were looking between himself and Angela. Then the hand lowered back to their side.
“So, what are you even doing out here in the Outskirts? Is this another of Iori's games?” The other still didn't answer, and Roland narrowed his eyes. He couldn't make out anything about them at all. A perception blocking mask, maybe? How could that be, though. They were such a rare piece of equipment. “What the hell do you want, then?”
The arm raised again, and Roland didn't need to see clearly to understand the motion. They were pointing over his shoulder, at Angela. Then the presumably pointed finger aimed at him, and the arm quickly snapped to the side. The gesture was obvious. 'Get out of my way.'
“Fat chance of that. I told you before. You want her, you go through me.” He smirked, gripping his weapon so tightly the leather-like material of his gloves audibly stretched. “Feel like testing your luck to try it?”
“...” The void stared hard into him, clearly pondering the situation. Then, they moved their hand like they were retrieving something, and he could spot a blade appear in their hand. He assumed from a sheath he couldnt make out through the uncertainty of their form. Nothing particularly special, just a cheap, simple sword like any that could be found out in a corner store in the Backstreets. But the gleam off of it told him that it was sharp enough it could do any job it was set to just fine.
“Alright then,” Roland muttered, a wry smirk crossing his face when he saw his opponent lower into a fighting stance. “Looks like we're doing this the hard way.”