Glory to Mankind (Nier Automata) ch 16

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Fujikawa perked up as the sound of heels echoed down the corridor, steadily approaching.

She looked up just as 2B entered the room, her silhouette sharp and imposing against the light spilling in from the doorway. The android's Pod floated beside her, holding a tray delicately in its mechanical hands. 

"Doctor," 2B said softly, stepping forward with measured grace. "I brought the tea you requested."

Fujikawa smiled faintly. She'd asked for tea earlier, giving 2B specific step-by-step instructions to brew it. She might have asked either of the Twins, but they were currently in recess and had instead busied themselves organizing her luggage—an effort she appreciated but didn't ask for.

As 2B approached, Fujikawa tilted her head curiously, her gaze falling on the android's face—or rather, the black band that obscured most of it.

"How do you see out of that?" she asked, gesturing vaguely toward the visor.

2B blinked, momentarily unsure. "Doctor?"

"That thing over your eyes," Fujikawa clarified, her finger pointing.

"Ah," 2B said, understanding. Her tone remained steady, but there was a hint of amusement beneath it. "It only appears to be a blindfold. It's actually an augmented-reality HUD visor. It provides real-time information during combat and other tasks."

Fujikawa's face lit up with genuine fascination. "Really? That's incredible. The technology was still in its infancy when we went under," she murmured, almost to herself.

The Pod floated closer, and Fujikawa reached out to take the mug of tea from its tray. She cupped it in her hands for a moment, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. When she took the first sip, her eyes widened slightly.

"This is perfect," she said, her voice bright with approval. She took another slow sip, savoring the flavor. "Better than I expected. Excellent work, both of you."

"This unit is pleased to have served," 042 droned, though its tone carried a suspiciously cheerful inflection.

"It was my duty," 2B replied softly, bowing her head slightly.

Fujikawa smiled warmly. She enjoyed these moments—small, fleeting glimpses of humanity in the androids. "This tea is very good," she commented after another sip. "Just as good as how we used to make it."

"Throughout the world, there remain agricultural communities," 042 informed her. "Their produce is sent to the moon and other orbital stations for use."

"A necessary part of maintaining the illusion, I suppose?" Fujikawa asked knowingly.

"Correct," 042 confirmed. "It would have been suspicious had the Council not requested supplies from Earth. However, some supply launches were sent empty."

"Quite a waste of fuel," Fujikawa observed, "sending out empty rockets. But I imagine energy supplies aren't much of a concern for you?"

"Correct again. The Army of Humanity utilizes advanced fusion reactors to power its technology. YoRHa, as an organization, employs even more advanced systems," 042 explained.

Fujikawa's expression softened with nostalgia. "Gregory would have loved to see this. He had so many ideas, but we were always limited by the technology of our time."

"Limited as Doctor Gregory was, his work laid the foundations for all android-kind," 042 said. "This unit—and all of us—owe our existence to his contributions. And yours, Doctor Fujikawa."

Fujikawa's smile widened. "Aren't you the politest little Pod?"

"This unit is pleased to be polite," 042 replied.

Fujikawa chuckled softly, her fingers brushing the Pod's sleek surface in a rare gesture of affection.

But the moment didn't last.

"Doctor," 2B said suddenly, her voice soft but firm.

"Yes?" Fujikawa turned, her expression curious.

"May I ask..." 2B hesitated, her voice faltering slightly. "Why did you slap Councillor Camille?"

Fujikawa sighed, the weight of the question settling over her. She knew this would have consequences. A member of the Command Team slapping the android envoy? Smith might already be considering replacing her—perhaps with Rossi, their Quartermaster, whose skills would be just as useful topside.

"I was angry," Fujikawa admitted, her voice calm but resolute. "The Twins were the first models our team worked on. Gregory, I, and the others poured everything we had into them. So when I heard how they were treated… how could I not feel rage?"

"This is why YoRHa forbids emotions," 2B said cautiously. "They cloud judgment."

"They do," Fujikawa agreed, surprising 2B. But then her expression softened, her tone shifting to something gentler. "But emotions also make you alive. They allow you to see things that a cold, logical mind might miss. For example..." She gestured vaguely. "In humanity's earliest days, when we were primitive nomads, it made sense to abandon the sick and injured. They slowed the group down, consumed resources. Pure logic would dictate leaving them behind."

2B considered the point carefully. It was true. From a purely rational perspective, keeping an injured member would be inefficient. And yet…

"I cannot condone such an act," 2B said at last. "A sick or injured member could still contribute in other ways. Perhaps they could share knowledge, or perform work that doesn't require physical strength."

Fujikawa nodded, pleased. "Exactly. Humanity's survival wasn't owed to strength or speed alone. The Neanderthals, for example, were stronger and faster than early humans—and yet, they abandoned their sick and injured. That practice, among other things, led to their extinction. Meanwhile, homo sapiens thrived because of their compassion. Emotions, 2B, ground you in reality. They help you distinguish right from wrong."

"But," 2B countered, her voice faltering slightly, "emotions can cloud judgment. If I allowed my emotions to run unchecked, I wouldn't be able to accomplish my objectives."

Fujikawa tilted her head, her gaze sharp but kind. "Are you a machine, 2B? A tool that must accomplish every objective no matter the cost?"

"No," 2B replied firmly, frowning slightly at the comparison.

"Exactly," Fujikawa said with a small smile. "You're more than that. You and the others were made in humanity's image—with our thoughts, our feelings, and yes, our emotions. They make you value life, 2B. They make you alive."

2B glanced away, visibly unsettled.

Fujikawa studied her carefully. "Is there something you're not telling me, 2B?" she asked, her voice soft but probing.

"It is nothing," 2B replied quickly, turning back to face her. "It is nothing."

Fujikawa sighed but didn't press further. She took another sip of tea, her eyes drifting to the Pod.

"Doctor," 042 interjected, "is this unit also your child?"

Fujikawa chuckled. "I suppose, in a way."

"This unit is satisfied," 042 replied, its fingers clacking in what seemed like joy.

Fujikawa laughed softly and reached out, patting the Pod on its smooth surface. "You're a good Pod. Keep up the good work, alright?"

"This unit will perform to full efficiency," 042 replied proudly.

Fujikawa smiled warmly but turned as the door slid open. A Council swordsman stepped inside, bowing slightly. "Doctor, the recess is over. The Lieutenant-Colonel and the Councillor are requesting your presence."

"I'll be there," Fujikawa said with a nod. As the android left, she glanced back at 2B. "We'll finish this conversation later, 2B. For now, think about what I said."

2B nodded. "Understood."

But as Fujikawa left, she paused in the doorway. "Remember, 2B. It's your choice to speak to me. I'm not ordering you—I'm inviting you. If you're not ready to talk, that's fine."

"You're giving me a choice?" 2B asked, blinking in surprise.

"Of course," Fujikawa replied with a small shrug. "Consider it fondness, if you like. I'd rather you come to me willingly than feel forced."

With that, she turned and left.

2B stood, pondering. Then, she walked out.

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The doors hissed open, and Fujikawa stepped inside.

A pair of eyes turned to her.

Android eyes.

"Where's the Lieutenant-Colonel?" Fujikawa asked, her tone clipped but polite as her gaze swept across the room.

"He is currently… performing his bodily functions," Camille replied, rising gracefully to greet her. Her blonde hair fell freely over her shoulders, her shako resting neatly on a corner table.

"I see," Fujikawa said, her expression neutral. Her eyes darted around the room. "And the others?"

"Commander White saw fit to guide him," Camille explained, folding her hands in front of her. "Colonel Anemone accompanied them."

Fujikawa raised an eyebrow. A few days into the post-post-apocalypse, and already the old man was attracting a harem—albeit unwillingly. Female intuition and good taste rankled at the thought, but she couldn't deny the reality. Humanity no longer had the luxury of choice. She, too, would eventually have to fulfill her obligation.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she imagined her parents—wherever they were—finally feeling satisfied that their wayward daughter would grant them grandchildren.

As many as she could make, she guessed.

"I'll take a seat, then," Fujikawa said, brushing the thought aside as she moved toward her old chair.

Camille gave a small nod and returned to her place. Fujikawa had barely settled into her seat when the doors opened again. This time, it was 2B who entered, her Pod 042 floating silently at her side.

"Doctor," 2B said softly, acknowledging her presence with a slight bow before positioning herself behind Fujikawa.

The room fell into silence, save for the faint hum of the ship's systems. Fujikawa's fingers drummed lightly on the table as she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she broke the quiet.

"I apologize for slapping you, Councillor," Fujikawa said, her voice steady but tinged with sincerity.

"It was deserved, Doctor," Camille replied, her tone soft and deferential.

"Still," Fujikawa continued, her gaze resting firmly on the android, "you are negotiating here in good faith. My behavior was... less than acceptable. It was unprofessional."

"Doctor..." Camille offered a small smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It is fine. We are humanity's creation. You may do with us as you wish."

Fujikawa's frown deepened. "Perhaps," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "But we shouldn't. Just because one has the power to act doesn't mean one should. I want our relationship—creator to created—to be built on reciprocity. Respect begets respect."

Camille tilted her head slightly, her smile softening. "It is admirable, Doctor, but I assure you, it is fine. I…" She hesitated, her voice lowering just enough to break the tension. "I will take it as your displeasure. I will keep it as a lesson."

Her lips twitched, her voice dipping almost huskily as she added under her breath, "And a privilege... to be the first android to be slapped by a human."

Fujikawa froze, staring at her with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. "...Right," she managed after a beat, her tone flat.

Thankfully, the awkward silence didn't last long.

The doors opened again, and Smith entered with his androids in tow. His presence immediately commanded the room, breaking the tension like a gust of fresh air.

Fujikawa and Camille stood as he approached.

"Ah, here you are," Smith said, glancing between the two women. "Shall we get started again?"

"Let's," Fujikawa replied, straightening her posture.

Camille nodded, smoothing out her uniform with practiced precision. "Yes. Let's."

Negotiations resumed, and though the discussions were long, they were productive. Supply lines were established and scheduled, materials ordered, and Space Station 13 earmarked for conversion into a residential hub. The station would become the height of human living, designed to replicate the comforts of the old world as closely as possible.

Most importantly, preparations were made to awaken lower-ranking members of the UN bunker to assist the androids. Teachers, bureaucrats, engineers—those with expertise to guide android teams on human needs and behavior. Camille admitted this was the androids' greatest deficiency. Thousands of years of war, and the absence of their creators, had left a void they could not fill on their own.

"I must confess," Smith said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "not all humans will be happy living in a space station—not with the Earth right there below them."

"But it's dangerous," Anemone interjected firmly. "Not all places on the planet are safe."

"I must agree with the Colonel," White added, her tone professional and composed. "A human settlement on Earth would make it a target for the Machine Lifeforms. It cannot be risked."

"You'll find," Fujikawa said, "that not all humans will care about that. Humans are not built to stay in one place. Wanderlust, cabin fever—these things have driven us forward as a species."

Camille tilted her head thoughtfully. "Might I suggest constructing a settlement on the moon? There is already a small outpost there. It could be expanded to host a larger population."

Smith nodded but furrowed his brow. "I'm thinking further ahead. Councillor, I understand we have space-borne assets, but are we limited to Earth and the Moon?"

Camille shook her head. "No. We have sublight space-capable vessels. The Council deemed it prudent to prevent further alien incursions. The galaxy is vast, and we can never predict what might be out there."

"YoRHa leads that expansion," Commander White added, earning a grimace from Anemone. "We have outposts on Mars and Venus."

"So expanding to other planets isn't off the table," Smith said.

"Not exactly," Camille replied. "But there are no habitable planets in our solar system. Proxima B in Alpha Centauri is an option, but we lack faster-than-light capabilities."

Fujikawa interrupted with a reminder. "Any talk of expansion hedges on our population reaching critical mass. We need to focus on rebuilding our numbers first."

Smith exhaled slowly, his expression tense. The androids leaned in, their interest palpable.

"The androids were built for that," Fujikawa said, her voice carrying a sharp edge. "Gregory envisioned humanity waking up to a world free of the Legion and WCS, where we could rebuild in peace. But given that this bunker might be the last bastion of humanity, reproduction the old way is inefficient."

"We have cloning and IVF technology," Camille said softly. Fujikawa noticed a flicker of disappointment in her gaze. Was she hoping for a different solution?

"Good," Fujikawa replied. "But repopulation the old-fashioned way shouldn't be discounted either."

Commander White's voice rang out proudly. "You'll be pleased to know, Doctor, that YoRHa androids possess the most advanced reproductive capabilities. Unit 2B here could receive the Lieutenant-Colonel's seed right now and birth a child in record time!"

Smith froze. "...Jesus Christ, White," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

White tilted her head innocently. "I am merely stating our capabilities, sir."

2B turned to him, her tone as calm as ever. "If the Lieutenant-Colonel desires it…"

"And I as well," White interjected, saluting with confidence. "It would be an honor!"

Anemone scowled, crossing her arms. "Please, White. You're all looks and no substance. I have far more experience. Start with me, sir. I know all there is to know in arming your cannon."

Fujikawa sighed, rubbing her temples. Gregory would be laughing his ass off right now. 

"Enough!" Smith barked, his tone sharp. "There will be no breeding! Not right now!"

White blinked, tilting her head. "So, later?"

"You don't give up, do you?" Smith replied, shaking his head.

"With all due respect, sir, the sooner you breed me, the sooner our population concerns can be alleviated," White said sincerely.

Fujikawa couldn't help but laugh. "Admirable dedication, Commander."

"We were made for more than aesthetics," White replied with utmost confidence.

Smith groaned, running a hand down his face. "Let's focus on finishing the space station. One step at a time. Understood?"

The androids nodded in unison.

Smith leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. The room's dim lighting cast long shadows across the polished table, the faint hum of the ship's systems filling the silence. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully before speaking.

"Next on the agenda," he said, his voice steady, deliberate, "let me understand your bureaucracy. If we're going to be working together, I need to know how your chain of command operates."

Camille straightened, her posture as poised as ever. Her blonde hair shimmered faintly in the artificial light as she raised her hand, palm upward.

"At the top," she began, her voice calm yet authoritative, "is the Council of Humanity."

She lowered her hand slightly.

"Below them are the Android Directors—myself and others like me."

Her hand lowered further.

"Regional Commanders."

Another level down.

"And finally, the rest of the androids."

Smith's eyes narrowed slightly. "No civilian androids, I presume?"

Camille shook her head, her expression somber. "Every android is a member of the Army of Humanity. Some perform non-combat roles—logistics, research, maintenance—but none are truly civilians. We were designed for service, Lieutenant-Colonel. That is our purpose."

Smith hummed, his gaze distant for a moment as he turned the thought over in his mind. "With humanity rebounding in population, that will likely change. A new class will emerge." He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "We'll need to refine this structure further. Incorporating the Army of Humanity under the United Nations umbrella will provide the foundation for governance. At least until a civilian government can be established."

Fujikawa, seated beside him, crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair with a faint smirk. "Might as well just do away with the old civilities and admit the nation-states are dead, Lieutenant-Colonel. There are no Americans, no Chinese, no Russians anymore. Just humans." Her words were blunt, her tone edged with a hint of irony.

Smith gave her a sidelong glance. "You're oversimplifying it. I'm sure some of our population will want to hold onto their old identities. We can't deny them that, Doctor. The United Nations is not—and was never meant to be—a world government."

Fujikawa shrugged, her smirk deepening. "Maybe not, but it might as well be. And I'm sure it will be, eventually."

Smith straightened, his jaw tightening slightly. "Regardless," he said firmly, "we'll keep that discussion on the table for now."

Camille, who had been watching the exchange quietly, stepped forward. Her voice softened slightly, a rare vulnerability slipping into her tone. "Us Directors will do our part, sir. All we ask is that humanity does not fragment. We need purpose. We've led for so long without human input. Without guidance."

Smith's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a weary sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "A discussion for another time," he said, his tone carrying the weight of finality. "Is that all for the agenda?"

Camille nodded. "It is."

Smith rose from his seat, the motion deliberate and commanding, his presence filling the room. "Then I bid you—and the Doctor—adieu." He looked directly at Camille. "It will be a pleasure to work with you and the Army of Humanity, Councillor."

Camille's lips curled into a small smile. She stepped back, her hands clasped behind her, and saluted sharply. Commander White mirrored the gesture, her movements precise and mechanical.

"Glory to Mankind!" Camille's voice rang out, clear and unwavering, echoing through the room.

Smith hesitated, the phrase hanging heavy in the air like an artifact of a forgotten age. Slowly, he nodded. Straightening his posture, he returned the salute in the traditional human style.

"Glory to Mankind," he replied, his voice steady, carrying the weight of something ancient and fragile.

Camille smiled. "To comemorate this, sir, the Council have penned an anthem for our glorious reunification."

Dread bubbled in his stomach. "Oh?" 

Camille gestured. The doors opened and the troops from earlier entered, taking their places. They saluted, hands on their chests. The screens turned blue as a bright blue banners of the UN flew. But the globe featured the tear drop insignia of the Army of Humanity behind it. 

Camille sang, with utter pride. 

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A/N: This is how Super-Earth was formed. Arguments otherwise is clearly Machine propaganda. Better drop or you will lose your rights to liberty!