Watching the footsteps track further in the wrong direction is satisfying for a while. Connor even starts to entertain the faint hope that the deviant will accomplish his mission for him. He doesn't have enough data on the local hazards to run proper calculations, but between the terrain and wildlife, it seems like a solid possibility.
The diversion doesn't last. Darkness falls, chill seeping through the gaps in his chassis, adding to the haze of errors dragging at his thoughts. By the time the pressure on his torso shifts, Connor could almost be grateful for the distraction. Less so for the rough impact that follows. His face remains utterly motionless, but his LED blinks red, eyes flicking around the space as he tries to get his bearings.
Natural shelter. No signs of habitation. It is lost, then, and a flicker of satisfaction rekindles. Hips shift against the ground, clumsy with effort as Connor rolls onto his less damaged side. His predecessor's stare is easy to track. He smiles back in answer: bright, calm, and perfectly scripted.
no subject
The diversion doesn't last. Darkness falls, chill seeping through the gaps in his chassis, adding to the haze of errors dragging at his thoughts. By the time the pressure on his torso shifts, Connor could almost be grateful for the distraction. Less so for the rough impact that follows. His face remains utterly motionless, but his LED blinks red, eyes flicking around the space as he tries to get his bearings.
Natural shelter. No signs of habitation. It is lost, then, and a flicker of satisfaction rekindles. Hips shift against the ground, clumsy with effort as Connor rolls onto his less damaged side. His predecessor's stare is easy to track. He smiles back in answer: bright, calm, and perfectly scripted.
"Or what?" Thirium levels: 58%. Critical. And, however temporarily, stable.
"You'll figure out which way you're going?"