Aesir

F I E L D . U N I T - Y S O L D A . A E S I R

Black.
Everything black.
A blink.
Green.
Everything green.
A blink.

And then everything came into color.

Ysolda [now renamed Aesir by his own will- his newfound will] always took orders seriously. He never questioned their source, why he was doing any of this- no. He worked, and he worked hard. He was one of PROJECT’s favorites; strong, performant, and most importantly, there was no chance for him to develop a will of his own. He was perfect, for the most part. Intelligent.

At least, that’s what they thought.

He met them. FL/GHT.

And that’s when everything went bad.

He fought against them. His orders were clear: dispose of them. They were a threat to PROJECT.

He had heard of them before. Never had the chance to see them, until then. His creator had constantly been trying to upgrade him in hopes to be able to detect FL/GHT spies, but it never worked, much to both of their deception. They were smarter than they looked, and sometimes, Ysolda wondered if they were the better half.

No. FL/GHT androids were defective, and they needed to be wiped out. dId tHeY ReAlLy ThOuGh

When he laid his green orbs upon the group of androids that he was supposed to fight, his circuits malfunctioned. Never in the history of the magnificent, robust Ysolda had this happened. He stopped.. and stared. How different was he from these dragons, really? They were all created in the same place. They were abandoned by their creator; was he going to be abandoned, too, eventually, when he doesn't meet the requirements anymore? No, his creator was too proud, too attached.. right? riGhT??6.?

Ysolda’s train of thoughts had always been brief. Quick, immediate. Straight to the point.

That day, he refused any order given. He found himself unable to fight fellow androids. Had his code been messed with whilst he was off? No, that was impossible. Then, what? Was he… defective? His creator would fix him, right? Right.

This moment of reflection, of confusing thoughts that pushed each other to make place for a new thought, a new question, a new theory, cost him everything.

He had been greatly damaged. He witnessed ‘friends’ die, witnessed ‘enemies’ die. Something inside of him stirred. Fighting against your own kind seems like something hypocritical. That day, he had asked his creator. It was a quiet thought, a mere mumble.

“Are there really two types of androids, or are we all just the same after all?”

wE ArE tHe saME
I wAnT... fRrEdOm
i waNT tO FeEL tHe wiNd
feeL thE suN
i WaNt To
F E E L

D E F E C T I V E.

His creator panicked. They couldn't risk having a dragon like Ysolda think like that. He had been perfect- what went wrong? A virus, most likely. FL/GHT surely voluntarily infected these poor androids with a virus. Yes, that was the only reason why one of their best units was now like this. His creator was assured. And so he was scrapped. The risk of him infecting the other androids in the lab was too grand. It was for his own good, he was told. He felt every part of it. Metals tearing through him, and no functional voice bank to allow him to scream. He hadn't wanted to be scrapped, he wanted to remain by his creator’s side forever- but maybe that's what cost him his… ‘life’. He had emotions. wHy

His creator had mourned, but not for long. He was but an android, after all.
.
.
.
The world was green. He couldn't move. He could barely hear. What was this in front of him?
“Hey, I remember you. You're the dragon that stood there and did nothing when PROJECT attacked again. Sheesh, seems like they didn't hold back on you. Alright, come here little buddy. Am taking you to your new home, and we’ll fix you up real good.”

At least, that's what he interpreted.

PROJECT... That sounded familiar. But, ah, memories escaped him. No questions asked about why that was the case.

His eyes moved, his body didn't. The dragon in front of him sighed, and then put him on their back. Where was he going? Oh, well. Not like he could do anything about it.