Glory to Mankind (Nier Automata) ch 10

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As the Flight Unit lurched into the void of space, White realized this was the first time she had left the Bunker since her appointment to YoRHa. How long had it been since her feet last touched the planet's surface? Since she had walked beneath a true sun, breathing in the air of the world humanity still called home?

She wasn't alone. A formation of Flight Units trailed behind her, engines screaming through the heavens like mechanical wails of purpose.

They pierced the atmosphere, synthetic meteors streaking across the sky, flames licking hungrily at their hulls. As they tasted Earth's air once more, the Flight Units broke formation, scattering in different directions.

Appearances had to be maintained, after all.

"Commander, this is 1D," her comms crackled. "What's our destination?"

White had kept this mission shrouded in secrecy. Some matters were too delicate to discuss over open airwaves.

"Debriefing will be conducted after we land, 1D," she replied, her voice steady. "Maintain your heading."

"Understood, ma'am."

The formation cut through the desert sky, their shadows racing across the barren sands below. White's personal craft, the Ho229, hummed with power beneath her hands. Designed to outmaneuver and outfight the God's Angels, it was a marvel of YoRHa engineering—and a rare indulgence for her to pilot personally.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the sensation. The faint whisper of filtered air brushing her face. The freedom of the open horizon. It had been far too long.

Once, she had known a different Earth. She was someone else back then. That Earth was ruined, scarred by plague and the monsters it had birthed, but there was hope. The disease that haunted humanity had finally been eradicated, but humanity itself was gone, scattered to the stars. Even so, she hadn't been alone. She had friends. Family. She thought they could endure, that they could rebuild together.

Then, the sky split open, and the first alien ships descended.

She lost everything. Her friends. Her family. The hopeful android she once was. That version of herself vanished, buried beneath grief and duty. From her ashes, the Commander was born.

Now, humanity had returned. The Gods had come back.

And it was time for her to atone.

The Council had cleared her to speak. To tell the truth of what had happened.

She had time to consider how best to deliver the message. Countless ways to frame the events. Soften the edges. Obscure the pain. But White knew there was only one real choice.

The truth.

And all the anguish it carried.

White was many things, but a coward was not one of them. If humanity chose to cast her aside in disgust, so be it. She had done what the situation demanded of her. The self-loathing that simmered in her gut was hers to carry alone. But her pride and dignity remained intact.

Her honor was assured.

The Flight Unit's systems beeped, signaling their arrival. Below, a narrow valley stretched out, surrounded by dunes. It was an unassuming location, hidden away like a forgotten secret. She couldn't fault anyone for missing it before.

Her Unit groaned as it descended, landing with a slow, deliberate grace. The others followed in formation, their engines quieting as their gears touched the sand. White exhaled and climbed out of the cockpit.

The camp was extensive. Sandbags, netting, and makeshift barricades were scattered across the site. A proper field camp. But it was empty.

"Commander!" 1D's voice rang out. White turned to see the Defender model sprinting toward her, the sound of heels crunching against sand following close behind. 1D huffed as she stopped, her stance shifting into a protective posture.

"Please try not to stray too far. We're in unknown territory."

White allowed herself a faint smirk of amusement. "Not so unknown, 1D."

The sand shifted suddenly. Shapes began rising from the ground. Her troops bristled at the sight, weapons raised, ready for an ambush. But as the shapes fully emerged, wearing brown and tan uniforms, they relaxed.

White, however, did not. She understood what her troops could not. The Resistance had made their statement clear: this was their turf, and they were calling the shots.

A familiar figure stepped forward. Memories flickered in White's mind, unbidden and sharp.

"Colonel Anemone," White said, offering a small nod.

"Commander White," the tanned android replied, her voice steady, her gaze piercing. The two leaders exchanged a silent understanding, the weight of years etched into their expressions. Finally, Anemone spoke again.

"Took you long enough to get here."

White's face remained impassive. "Confirmation was necessary. The Council doesn't send an entire force based on rumor alone."

Her troops shifted uneasily at the comment, their confusion palpable despite their blindfolds.

"Well," Anemone said, shrugging, "the rumor was true." She gestured behind her. "They're down there, waiting."

White nodded, her gaze hardening. "Then we won't delay any further."

She turned to her troops, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.

"Descent Squad!" she barked, her tone commanding. "The reason we are here today is to protect this location." She paused, letting the words sink in. "Maintain a holding pattern around the sector. Not a single machine must remain standing. Not one."

She drew in a steadying breath, her next words deliberate.

"Behind that door," she gestured toward the bunker, "lies an underground shelter. Inside are humans."

The effect was immediate. A wave of electricity seemed to ripple through her troops.

"Do your duty," she said firmly. She saluted.

"Glory to Mankind!"

The soldiers snapped to attention, their voices rising in unison.

"Glory to Mankind!"

The walk into the tunnel was long, the dim lighting stretching endlessly ahead, the air cool and damp. Most of her escort had already peeled off, their Flight Units disappearing into the horizon. Only one remained behind.

Halfway through the tunnel, a figure emerged—a bob of silver hair catching the faint light in the shadows.

"2B," White said, blinking in faint surprise.

"Apologies for failing to meet you earlier, Commander," the Executioner model replied, stepping forward with her usual calm. "Lieutenant Colonel Smith required my assistance with an urgent matter."

At White's side, 1D wrinkled her nose, sniffing the air with a visible grimace. "What is that smell?"

Pod 042 chimed in from behind them, its monotone voice cutting through the stillness. "The odor Unit 1D is detecting is the result of exposing Allium sativum and churned, aged milk to heat, alongside bread."

1D frowned, clearly puzzled. "What?"

"In simpler terms," Pod 042 continued, "Unit 2B consumed garlic bread."

"You ate?" 1D blurted, blinking in disbelief behind her blindfold.

"I was ordered to," 2B replied, her tone neutral, unbothered.

"Correction," Pod 042 interjected. "Unit 2B, in human terms, requested seconds."

"I did not," 2B said sharply, though her voice barely shifted. "I was ordered to."

White watched the exchange in silence, a strange mix of emotions stirring within her. For a fleeting moment, she let herself imagine it—being ordered by a human. To serve them directly. To feel that connection, however small, to the ones they were built to protect.

The thought came and went, leaving behind a hollow pang she quickly buried. Her face remained impassive as she cleared her throat.

"Let's move on," White said curtly, cutting through the moment.

The elevator ride down was long and uncomfortably slow. Of all the things humanity had created, why did elevators have to be so tedious?

"What are they like?" White asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Anemone turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "Hm?"

"The humans," White clarified, her voice softer this time. "What are they like?"

Anemone turned away, her gaze distant as she faced the elevator doors. She stayed silent, the question lingering in the cramped space.

2B and 1D exchanged uncertain glances, but neither spoke. White took Anemone's silence as an answer—a refusal to say more.

Then, as the elevator finally came to a stop and the doors slid open, Anemone spoke. Her voice was quiet, but it carried weight.

"You want to know what they're like?" she asked, stepping forward into the light of the atrium.

White nodded, following behind. "Yes."

Anemone stopped and turned, her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the atrium's lights. Her brown skin seemed to glow faintly, her expression uncharacteristically warm. A faint smile tugged at her lips, a rare softness breaking through.

"Euphoric," Anemone said simply, the word brimming with quiet reverence.

She turned, into the halls, her description lingering in the air.

White resisted the urge to bite her lip.

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She swore not to let it get to her. Discipline. Iron will. Steel. As YoRHa's Commander, she would uphold her dignity.

But then she saw them—their eyes, the sheer vibrancy of life they exuded.

Gods. Gods. Gods. Gods. GODS.

"Commander White, YoRHa. Glory to Mankind!"

"Captain 1D! Glory to Mankind!"

Smith shifted uncomfortably in his seat. While the androids were typically deferential, this felt bordering on fanaticism. He exchanged a glance with Fujikawa, who scrutinized the Commander with a critical gaze. Smith shook his head and rose from his chair.

"At ease," he said firmly, his voice slicing through the tense atmosphere.

The humans had just finished their meal. After being frozen for so long, their bodies craved real nutrients—not the synthetic paste they had endured. Garlic. They had garlic again, thanks to Rossi's efforts. Smith made a mental note to thank him later.

White relaxed slightly, as did 2B. This was supposed to be their private meeting, but Smith's office felt cramped. The room was crowded: the human doctor sat nearby, flanked by the Twins, their vibrant red hair a stark contrast to the sterile environment. Anemone stood beside Smith, as though she belonged there. Opposite the desk, White stood with 1D and 2B flanking her like sentinels.

White and Anemone exchanged a charged glance before White turned her attention to Smith.

The Lieutenant Colonel's uniform was clean-cut and utilitarian: deep navy blue streaked with gold, complete with epaulettes. On his desk sat a light blue beret, its insignia marked with an etched glove. His dark eyes, sharp and calculating, held a warmth that disarmed her—for a moment.

But White faltered. That kindness in his eyes... how long would it last once he knew the truth?

"Do we still need introductions?" Smith asked, breaking the silence.

White shook her head. "No, sir. I have already been briefed."

"Good. Then let's get started," Smith said, gesturing for her to sit as he returned to his chair. Instead, White stood firm, glancing over her shoulder to silently communicate with her subordinates. 1D and 2B nodded and stepped out of the room without protest.

"Welcome to my facility, Commander," Smith began, leaning forward slightly. "I trust your journey here was smooth?"

White turned back to him, her tone measured. "It was eventful, sir. It has been some time since I left the Bunker."

"A space station, correct?" Fujikawa asked.

White nodded. "Yes, ma'am. The Army of Humanity maintains multiple space stations orbiting the planet. They serve as administrative centers and manufacturing hubs for the war effort against the Machine Lifeforms."

"We don't have facilities planetside?" Smith asked, frowning. "I imagine resupply must be difficult."

"Very," Anemone interjected before White could speak, her tone clipped.

White fought back the irritation rising within her. "If we could, we would establish planetside hubs. However, the Machines make that option impossible. Keeping our stations in orbit ensures their safety."

"I'm no expert in warfare," Fujikawa said coolly, "but doesn't that make them floating targets? Surely the aliens you're fighting would aim for your stations?" She practically spat the word "aliens."

White replied evenly, "Since their initial invasion, the aliens have made no further attempts to break orbit. They remain hidden on the planet's surface."

"Can't be helped, then," Smith said, folding his hands. "That aside, Commander, we need to discuss something crucial." He paused, his gaze steady. "The civilians in our care—they cannot stay here."

White nodded. "The Council agrees, sir. An orbital platform is being repurposed to house the civilians. However, the process will take time. We lack sufficient data on their needs and would appreciate your assistance."

"An orbital platform? Why not send them to the moon?" Smith asked, brow furrowing in confusion. Fujikawa leaned forward, curiosity piqued.

White hesitated. This was it.

She drew a steadying breath, glancing toward the other androids in the room. "What I am about to disclose is classified information from the Council of Humanity," White said firmly, her tone pointed—a subtle warning.

"Step out."

The Twins bristled immediately. Devola narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. "We are the Administrators of this Bunker. You cannot order us to leave, YoRHa."

Anemone's voice was cold and sharp. "I am the commanding officer of the Resistance forces in this region. If this information concerns the safety of humanity, I have every right to hear it."

White turned to Smith, ignoring the defiance radiating from the others. "Sir, I must insist they leave."

Fujikawa's voice snapped through the room. "Absolutely not. They have as much a right to be here as you do, Commander."

Smith glanced at Fujikawa before nodding in agreement. "They stay, Commander. I need their cooperation. If they're in the dark, we won't be able to coordinate effectively."

The Twins exchanged smug glances, their satisfaction palpable. Anemone allowed herself a small smirk, which only fueled White's frustration.

"Very well, sir," White said tightly, closing her eyes for a brief moment. Her stomach churned as she steeled herself.

"I trust you are all aware of the Council's broadcasts and the remnants of humanity stationed on the moon," White began, her tone measured, almost clinical.

Smith inclined his head. "We've been told as much."

White opened her eyes, her expression calm but resolute. "It is a lie."

The room fell silent. The faint hum of electricity filled the void as the humans and androids stared at her in stunned disbelief.

Anemone's eyes widened, her composure faltering. The Twins covered their mouths, horror etched across their faces.

"...A lie?" Smith repeated, his voice low.

White nodded, her fist clenching around the riding crop she carried. "Project Gestalt failed. Utterly. When the Replicants gained sentience and the Grimoires refused to cooperate, humanity's extinction became inevitable."

Smith's face hardened as the weight of her words sank in.

"So... we..." Devola whispered, her voice trembling.

"No," Popola interrupted, shaking her head as if trying to deny the truth.

Fujikawa's glare deepened. "Silence," she hissed, the Twins holding their breath, horror in their eyes.

"And the Council's broadcasts?" Anemone demanded, anger flickering in her eyes.

White met her gaze evenly. "Anemone, you and I were there when the broadcasts started. The Machines had brought us to the brink of annihilation. We needed something to believe in—anything to give us hope. Even if it wasn't real."

Anemone clenched her fists tightly, trembling with suppressed rage. If she hadn't been wearing gloves, White was certain her nails would have drawn blood. Shouts erupted from Anemone and the Twins. White held her breath, refusing to let her turmoil show. The doors opened, 2B and 1D entering just as the shouting escalated.

"Enough!" Smith's voice barked. The shouting ceased, all eyes turning to him. He took a breath. "Calm down, all of you," he rumbled, his voice brooking no argument.

"Commander?" 2B asked, tilting her head.

"At ease, 2B," White said softly. "Return to your post," she commanded.

1D's lips quivered. "Was... was what you said true, Commander? Humanity is extinct?"

2B turned to her. 1D stared back, her systems urging her to flee.

"We're here, soldier. Not all of us are dead," Smith clicked his tongue. "I am not dead yet, at least."

Smith tapped his fingers on the table. He was no fool. He understood the implications. He swiveled in his chair, turning to Fujikawa. "Doctor," he said softly, "what are our options?"

"A thousand humans," she muttered, massaging her nose. "Factoring the old, we only have a few hundred pairs capable of reproducing the old-fashioned way, including you and me." She glanced up. "If my team and I can get access to artificial wombs, that process could be expedited."

Surprise coursed through White and the other androids. "You're... taking this rather well," White commented. "Humanity is—"

"With all due respect, YoRHa," Fujikawa interrupted. "Before we went under ice, we believed humanity would be massively depopulated and the Earth would be different when we woke up again."

"It's just... strange how different it is. But we have no choice but to get used to it," Smith clicked his tongue. He leaned back in his chair. "Humanity is in danger. We need to reproduce again, and quickly."

The androids wore strange expressions.

Reproduce.

Reproduce.

Mate.

Sex.

"Before that, we need to get people off-world," Smith shook his head. "If the planet is still dangerous, having children here would be a risk."

"Y-yes, of course," White coughed. "If we have assistance, sir, the renovation efforts will be faster. The sooner we can get people out of here."

Fujikawa stood up. "I am going," she declared. "I will also take the Twins with me."

Devola and Popola blinked. "But we—"

"Not another word," Fujikawa snapped. "Gestalt was risky. If anyone is to be blamed, it is the damned Hamelin Organization for seducing the rest of humanity with their sensationalist hogwash!"

The Twins clearly wanted to argue but held their tongues. Fujikawa sighed and turned to White. "I will prepare my things. How will I be transported off-world?"

"A shuttle will be sent," White responded, faltering under the doctor's gaze.

"Right," Fujikawa clicked her tongue. "Devola, Popola, let's go."

Like a pair of puppies, the Twins quietly filed out with the doctor, leaving only Anemone, White, and Smith. He leaned back in his chair, his expression neutral, but his eyes flickered with an emotion White could not fathom.

"Anemone?"

The Resistance android straightened. "Sir?"

"Leave us."

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A/N: Cliff-hanger c: