NIKKE: Max Bonded but System Gone

"JhonD? Never heard of him. So, what did this JhonD do to you?" Crow turned around, leaning against the railing. She fished out a slender cigarette from her pocket. "Looking a bit down. Want one?"

"I don't smoke," replied Green.

"Arks' tobacco is pretty pricey."

"Still don't smoke? Principled, huh?"

Crow lit her cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the dim light. She exhaled a wisp of smoke before asking, "What were you watching earlier? The elevators to the surface? Or were you mourning that poor soul being sent to die up there?"

Green glanced at Crow, her face heavily shadowed by smoky eyeliner, an expression more irritating than intriguing. "What I was thinking about has nothing to do with you, JohnD."

Crow ignored the rebuff. "Come now, consultation's about understanding each other, no? And honestly, your mental state looks... suboptimal."

"That's not your concern."

"Don't give me that. I know what you're feeling."

"Oh? Do enlighten me."

"You're furious, aren't you? Watching the younger generation thrown to their deaths by the Central Government and the Nikkes. It eats at you, doesn't it?"

Green's lips tightened. "Your assumptions, not mine. Don't project your worldview onto me."

"Is that right? Well then, I've got another question for you," Crow said, leaning in slightly. "Who do you think the real victims are—humans or Nikkes?"

"The Nikkes."

Green's immediate response startled Crow for a second. She lowered her cigarette, studying him curiously. "Huh. Did you ever attend school?"

"I've been educated far beyond your level," he replied coolly.

Crow chuckled. "Then you must've learned in military school that Nikkes aren't humans—they're tools, consumables wrapped in human skin. How can a tool even be oppressed?"

"They're not tools."

The flat denial made Crow laugh. "Oh? So, to you, Nikkes are more than tools. And what of it? Can you change how the majority of Ark's population views them? Can you overturn Central's policies and grant rights to some glorified, recyclable machines? You can't, can you?"

Crow then smirked, "Face it. If the Ark is a deep pit, then you're a frog clinging to its surface. You can't stop the tide from rising, and eventually, you'll drown in its depths, swallowed by darkness, just like everyone else."

"... That's your view of things?"

Green chuckled, a biting edge to his voice. "A self-righteous terrorist who bombs trains and kills civilians dares lecture me?"

"Look down at this Outpost Base," Green gestured sharply. "Who do you think turned this place into a haven for Nikkes? Who do you think fights tooth and nail to secure more resources and better conditions for them? It's me.

I risk my life on the surface battles, not for personal glory, but to gain leverage in the Ark to advocate for their rights. And in every after-action report I file, I ensure my Nikkes are recognized for their contributions. I never take sole credit. Every commendation, every resource, every upgrade—they're for them. And yet, you claim I'll someday be corrupted by the Ark's hierarchy?

Pretty naïve for someone who acts who knows everything."

Green's eyes sharpened, a piercing glare that seemed to slice through Crow's facade.

"While I fight to secure everything I can for the Nikkes, what have you done? Sitting on a cushy couch, criticizing me from afar? Tapping away on your anonymous accounts to slander me online?

Crow, mock me all you want. But what good does it do? You think mocking me will break my resolve? That criticism will extinguish my commitment to protect them? Let me tell you something. It won't. Ever."

Green turned away. In the faint, amber glow of the overhead lights, his shadow loomed large, engulfing Crow's smaller frame.

"I'll keep walking my path, no matter how grueling the struggle, no matter how much it demands of me. This fight—this dream of mine to protect them—is one I'll see through to the end. I have no regrets. And I'll never turn back."

Bang!

The rooftop door slammed shut behind him leaving Crow stood still, staring at the iron door. For a moment, she extended a hand to the railing where Green had leaned.

The metal was still warm.

No, it was hot.

Crow gazed at the railing, her expression unreadable.

She thought her heart had long since withered under years of oppression, leaving her with nothing but hatred for the Ark—a desire to sow chaos, to turn the world into a tangled mess of disorder.

But in this moment, something stirred within her, something Green's words had awakened.

"Counters... Green."

She murmured his name, her fingers brushing the lingering warmth of the railing.

As Green turned to leave, Crow felt a surge of emotions she hadn't experienced in years. A boiling, twisted desire stirred within her—an urge to destroy, to corrupt, to monopolize. She wanted to watch pure ideals crumble into the same decay that had consumed her, to witness a hero fall and a villain rise.

Was this love? Hatred? Jealousy? Or was it something far stranger?

Crow couldn't tell, but she knew one thing: her heart now bore the unmistakable imprint of a man.

"Green... Green... You're a fascinating man. If I'd met you a decade ago, I might have joined your cause without hesitation, just like those little girls who surround you, yearning for the day you'd save them. But unfortunately, the person I am now doesn't need you to be my hero. I don't need your salvation.

I'm already nothing but decayed blood in the mire. All I want is to taint and pollute your pure heart."

She laughed—a wild, twisted laugh that echoed across the rooftop. How long had it been since she laughed like this? It must have been ages. So long, in fact, that she had nearly forgotten there was anything in this world beyond revenge worth savoring.

"Green... if I can see your distorted expression, if I can witness your fall from grace, I won't regret being sent to the Recycle Facility to be scrapped. So, how do I drag such a noble hero down to become as despicable and shameless as I am?

I'll need a plan.

A perfect plan."

Crow murmured to herself as she descended the stairs, her figure swallowed by the darkness below.

The rooftop was left empty and silent, save for the faint trace of ash smoldering into the ground.

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