Volume 2, Episode 9
"Visitors hoping to see you have arrived, Lieutenat Moore. Is it okay to let them in?"
"...Yes, it's fine."
Lying on a bed in a room at Central Hospital, Moore remained disgruntled. He picked up the receiver and responded to the nurse's question.
It had been three days since that mission.
He had woken up just yesterday. There was no point in being angry at himself, but he couldn't help feeling frustrated.
Everything had ended while he was sleeping peacefully in his hospital bed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he was dressed in light blue short-sleeved pajamas and shorts.
From the hem of those shorts, his left leg extended, the opposite side of where his right leg, which should have matched it, had cleanly disappeared below the knee. According to what his attending physician had explained to him when he woke up yesterday, there had been necrosis, so they had to amputate it.
In addition, a bandage wrapped around his right eye, covering the entire head. No matter how you looked at it, he resembled a defeated soldier, or at best, a wounded one.
...Well, in reality, that was exactly what he was.
"...Coming in."
"Coming in..."
As he sighed in frustration at his own situation and the fact that he had slept so peacefully, the door to his hospital room opened. Three people dressed in predominantly black clothing entered.
"How are you feeling?"
"...Not good, but not terrible either, I suppose. Oh, sorry for the late greeting. I'm Moore. I should have greeted you three days ago..."
"Hehe, don't worry about it. Come on, Vesti, Eunhwa, say hi."
He quickly realized that they were the squad that had come to his rescue on that runway during the recent mission.
The tallest among the three, Nikke (Emma), urged the other two to greet him. The shortest girl,Vesti hurriedly bowed to him, and Eunhwa, who was of medium height between the other two, reluctantly gave a half-hearted greeting, clearly in a bad mood.
"N-Nice to meet you!"
"...You don't have to be so stiff. It's fine. And, I'm sorry for my appearance... I REALLY should have thanked you for the rescue three days ago..."
Getting up was quite a struggle. He remained seated on the edge of the bed, but he bowed to them as best he could, expressing his gratitude.
"...I guess so. It's a miracle you're still alive... This is the commander "she" chose huh..."
"Eunhwa~?"
Although Emma gently scolded Eunhwa in her calm voice, Eunhwa clicked her tongue audibly and turned away.
"...Yeah, I have no words to retort... I'm so pathetic that I'm angry with myself."
"...Don't be too hard on yourself. You did well in that situation."
"Yeah... What surprised me more was when you suddenly woke up on the transport plane..."
"...I woke up?"
"You grabbed Emma's arm when you were receiving first aid on the plane... You said, 'I did it myself,' or something."
"...I don't remember that."
"It happened~~. Also, my arm hurt a lot from it~~."
Emma nodded, but he still couldn't recall it. All he remembered was looking up at the ceiling of the hospital room when he regained consciousness. He had no memory of what had happened while he was unconscious, but since all three of them were saying it, it must have actually happened.
"...By the way, did you hear the verdict?"
Eunhwa casually fiddled at her black hair and asked him. Moore nodded faintly in response.
"...Ah. The biggest reason I'm angry at myself for sleeping so peacefully."
"Hmph. Let me ask you one thing... What kind of subordinate is she to you?"
"...She? Who are you talking about?"
Eunhwa suddenly asked, leaving him puzzled as to who she was referring to. Her action prompted yet another click of her tongue.
"...Rapi."
"...She's excellent. She saved us from dire situations many times. I've always felt that she's too good for me to command."
"...She said you saved her a few times. Is that true?"
"...Wasn't it one question?"
"Tch... Just answer the question."
Did she need to click their tongues every time to hold a conversation? Moore considered whether it was her habit or if she was genuinely unhappy, then nodded slightly in response.
"I only remember carrying Rapi, who was injured, for transport..."
"...Carrying her, you say?"
Was she making a joke? Nikke, generally heavier than most due to their physique, was carried. Moore undoubtedly mentioned that, but Eunhwa, looking straight at him, found it hard to believe.
"Oh my... You're 'strong', aren't you?"
"....Nikke is a replaceable weapon. Why did you go to such lengths to help her?"
"Because she's an important subordinate. Is that not a good enough reason?"
Eunhwa's gaze, staring into Moore's eyes with disbelief, pierced him deeply. He had no other answer besides that.
----
The next day, Moore had a prosthetic leg below the knee.
Fitted with a socket for a below-knee prosthesis, Moore walked with crutches as he made his way down the elevator to the hospital rooftop.
The rooftop had been converted into an observation deck with several reclining chairs for resting. Moore, despite his slow progress, eventually arrived and sat down, taking a deep breath.
His recovery had been much faster than expected. His attending physician had prescribed him rehabilitation for the morning, during which he had been fitted with the prosthetic leg, followed by a few hours of rest in his hospital room. But the real reason he had come here was that he didn't want to remain cooped up in his room, overwhelmed by regret.
As his regret grew, the self-inflicted amputation of his right leg and the pain from removing the shards from his right eye began to throb.
He wanted to scratch his head instinctively, but with the bandages wrapped around him, he couldn't even do that.
What should he do?
As he pondered this question in his mind repeatedly, the sound of the elevator door opening behind him resonated.
"---How are you feeling?"
He wanted to retort with his pent-up frustration at the voice that had suddenly come from behind, but he held back.
"If I do lookfine... there's an ophthalmology department on the first floor. I recommend getting your eye checked."
He managed to hold back the bitterness, but sarcasm slipped out. However, the owner of the voice, who had asked from behind, didn't seem to be offended. Instead, they approached Moore and sat down on the reclining chair next to him, leaving a gap the size of one person.
"Your attending physician gave me these. ...Smoke if you like."
The person who had sat down next to him, Anderson, handed him a black box and, underneath it, a sealed envelope. Moore accepted them with his right hand, holding a cigarette between his lips. He lit it with an oil lighter, exhaling purple smoke after a long time.
"Do you have any business?"
"It's a visit. Nothing special... Oh, no, there was something."
"For your Excellency, usually bogged down with meetings, gracing me with your presence is quite unusual."
Even though his schedule was undoubtedly packed, Moore seemed a bit irritable, possibly due to the timing of this visit, and his thoughts appeared to be a bit sullen.
"First... this."
Just like the cigarettes earlier, Anderson handed a small black box to Moore in front of him, followed by a sealed letter beneath it. Moore received them and, just like with the cigarettes, opened the box. However, as soon as he did, several vertical wrinkles appeared on his forehead.
"While it was a mission that ignored the chain of command, they considered the fact that you were injured in combat. It's a combat service medal. There won't be an official award ceremony due to the verdict, but..."
Continuing, he took out the letter and began to read the certificate of commendation made of genuine paper derived from plant fibers. However, Moore lost interest and discarded it immediately. The certificate was torn once vertically and thrice horizontally, then unceremoniously discarded.
"It seems I've come at quite an inconvenient time."
Sensing that the timing wasn't right, Anderson returned the combat service medal.
"...Enikk's verdict is final. I understand your feelings, but there's no possibility of a retrial."
No matter how he raged, the verdict wouldn't be overturned. Anderson spoke of this absolute premise, and Moore, silent, continued to exhale purple smoke. However, the pupil of his uncovered left eye remained wide open, staring intensely straight ahead.
Without even an investigation by a legal officer—although it was certainly because the verdict had been handed down so quickly—Moore's verdict was a two-day ban on military duty. It was probably a lenient sentence because it wasn't a dishonorable discharge or true exile from the Ark.
However, the issue was the verdict handed down to Nikkes who participated in the mission.
For the squad members, it was one thing, but the verdict for both the Counters and the Wardress, who were squad leaders, Rapi and Mihara, was "memory erasure."
Enikk, the AI that prioritized the survival of the Ark and humanity, made a rational judgment. Perhaps it was a decision made with AI-like thinking that thoroughly eliminated emotions.
"...I heard it was under the pretext of preventing similar cases from happening again... But in the end, isn't it just a show of force?"
"...It's not just a simple show of force. Of course, that's certainly a part of it, but... we can't ignore the possibility that they themselves will no longer see deviations from command orders as a problem."
"And memory erasure is for that?"
Sitting by his right side, Anderson could only see the right half of Moore's face, covered in bandages. It was impossible to see what expression he was making, but it was strangely easy to surmise.
"...You can interpret it that way if you'd like. It might be frustrating for you...--- but let's change the subject. Your leg and right eye... Ingrid says she'll find suitable replacements through Nikke's parts. It might take some time for adjustments, though."
"This is the best news I've heard in the past few days. The prospect of being back on the battlefield..."
Finally, Moore turned his face toward Anderson. Anderson, whose gaze was met by Moore's single eye, was confident that his assumptions were correct.
His gaze was still sharp as ever.
----
Why is the hospital a non-smoking zone? It's really a struggle just to have a smoke.
Whenever he had free time, he would come to the rooftop observatory. The prosthetic leg was still in its initial state, but it was starting to feel more natural against his skin.
Anderson had mentioned that replacements for his right leg and eye would be sent through Ingrid, but Moore had been informed by his attending physician that the substitutes would arrive as soon as tomorrow. However, the right leg was somewhat of a "probably compatible" item, and it was unclear whether it could fully perform as intended.
He was unaware of the large sign on the observatory floor that said "Absolutely No Smoking."
Reaching the observatory floor with the support of his crutches, Moore walked with a gait that had become more accustomed to him. He took a seat on a chair and, from the pocket of his light blue hospital gown, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, an oil lighter, and a portable ashtray.
After lightly shaking the pack, he placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with the oil lighter. After inhaling deeply, filling his lungs, he exhaled slowly, savoring the feeling of mild intoxication.
But it didn't take long for it to burn out.
Regretfully, he flicked the cigarette butt into the portable ashtray.
"...You've come here, huh?"
...He wonder if it's a jinx that someone always comes when he's on this observatory.
Moore turned his head over his shoulder, and Rapi, who had taken the elevator down, approached with a bag in one hand.
"...I'm sorry I couldn't come to visit."
"...No, don't worry about it."
"How are you feeling..."
She started to inquire about his condition, but she noticed the right leg extending from the hem of his light blue shorts, clearly not a living limb, and her words faltered.
"...Well, have a seat."
He didn't have any interest in making his visitor stand. Rapi nodded and took a seat next to him, leaving about three clenched fists' worth of space on his right side. She began to search through the bag she had brought.
"...I wasn't sure what would be a suitable gift for a visit... I could only think of the brand of cigarettes you like, Commander."
"Ah, thank you. I only had one left. This will keep me going for a while. You're a lifesaver."
For a smoker, cigarettes are akin to oxygen. Moore expressed his heartfelt gratitude to Rapi, who had brought a whole carton of them as a gift.
"Well, I did wonder if bringing cigarettes to a hospital was a good idea..."
"Asking me to quit smoking is like a death sentence... sorry."
"No... I..."
Moore realized that his attempt at light-hearted humor had failed, and he said so out loud.
He had a vague sense that Rapi had come here for their final farewell, and words like "death sentence" were completely inappropriate.
As the silence lingered and the atmosphere grew uncomfortable, Moore decided to distract himself. He pulled out another cigarette from his hospital gown pocket and placed it in his mouth. However, this time, when he opened the lid of the oil lighter with a distinct metallic sound and tried to ignite it by rotating the wheel and causing sparks on the flint... nothing happened. It seemed the oil had run out at just this moment.
What a useless junk, but then immediately corrected his thinking, wondering if he himself was also useless.
Suddenly, a slender arm extended from the side, and in its small hand, Moore's remaining eye caught something.
"...Please."
What Rapi held in her hand was a turbo lighter that used a mixed gas.
When prompted, Moore leaned closer to the end of the cigarette held between her fingers, creating a windbreak with both hands. He pressed the button, and a blue flame flickered slightly. He used it to ignite the tip of the cigarette, then pulled away, holding the cigarette with his right index and middle fingers while covering her hand with his other hand, allowing the purple smoke to billow.
"...I didn't know you had a lighter."
"...I bought it today, without any particular reason. I happened to see it at the counter when I was buying the cigarettes for the visit."
"Ah, I see." Moore nodded, and then he put the cigarette back in his mouth, deeply inhaling and exhaling thin purple smoke.
Rapi, who had experienced the smoke up close, narrowed her eyes as she looked out from the observatory over the cityscape of the Ark.
"It's... a little scary."
Moore listened silently, knowing that these were her honest feelings.
"I also feel regret. But... Enikk's verdict cannot be overturned. It's the very foundation that keeps the Ark going."
As a mere Second Lieutenant without the power to make decisions, all Moore could offer was the official voice recording he had declared to Shifty during the recent operation. Thanks to that, they had managed to avoid responsibility for violating the Commander's absolute protection rule.
However, in the end, that was all he could do. He couldn't change the verdict itself.
Sadly, that was his limit. That was the 'modest' resistance allowed to Lieutenant Show Moore at this moment.
Rapi continued, "Fortunately, the squad will be maintained," but then she asked a question that weighed heavily.
"What will happen to you after the memory erasure?"
"I'll return to the state of my memories right after I was manufactured. All memories before the memory erasure will be erased. I've heard that battle data is often retained, but everything else will be wiped."
"Ah...."
Moore listened to her words with a deep sigh mixed in.
"Neon, Anis, your existence, and even... why I have this lighter, I won't remember any of it."
Rapi gazed at the red-eyed turbo lighter in her hand and eventually stowed it away in her pocket.
"It's about time."
Rising to her feet, Rapi stood before him. Even though her posture seemed natural as she looked down at him, she also aligned her heels.
"Thank you, Commander. Please take care of me after my memory erasure."
With a crisp sound, she saluted Moore. He reflexively tried to raise his right hand in return, but it stopped about shoulder level.
Without reaching his forehead, the five fingers were lowered, and they were extended toward her.
Understanding his intent, she eventually released her salute, gripping his large right hand with her slender right hand, and they shook hands.
"...It's like we're meeting for the first time. I'll be prepared for you to tell me all sorts of things."
"Yes. Please take care of me."
The moment they let go of each other's hands, both of them felt an inexplicable sense of nostalgia.
----
Author Notes: It was mentioned in a side quest in the main game that Niké's legs can be repurposed as prosthetic limbs for humans. (I'm not sure about the eyeballs, but... well, it should work, probably, most likely.)
(Tl notes: Eyes are completely different level than legs or eyes, Sir Author. It connects to BRAIN. But well, guess there's always plot armor in bits like these.)
Volume 2, Episode 9
"Visitors hoping to see you have arrived, Lieutenat Moore. Is it okay to let them in?"
"...Yes, it's fine."
Lying on a bed in a room at Central Hospital, Moore remained disgruntled. He picked up the receiver and responded to the nurse's question.
It had been three days since that mission.
He had woken up just yesterday. There was no point in being angry at himself, but he couldn't help feeling frustrated.
Everything had ended while he was sleeping peacefully in his hospital bed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he was dressed in light blue short-sleeved pajamas and shorts.
From the hem of those shorts, his left leg extended, the opposite side of where his right leg, which should have matched it, had cleanly disappeared below the knee. According to what his attending physician had explained to him when he woke up yesterday, there had been necrosis, so they had to amputate it.
In addition, a bandage wrapped around his right eye, covering the entire head. No matter how you looked at it, he resembled a defeated soldier, or at best, a wounded one.
...Well, in reality, that was exactly what he was.
"...Coming in."
"Coming in..."
As he sighed in frustration at his own situation and the fact that he had slept so peacefully, the door to his hospital room opened. Three people dressed in predominantly black clothing entered.
"How are you feeling?"
"...Not good, but not terrible either, I suppose. Oh, sorry for the late greeting. I'm Moore. I should have greeted you three days ago..."
"Hehe, don't worry about it. Come on, Vesti, Eunhwa, say hi."
He quickly realized that they were the squad that had come to his rescue on that runway during the recent mission.
The tallest among the three, Nikke (Emma), urged the other two to greet him. The shortest girl,Vesti hurriedly bowed to him, and Eunhwa, who was of medium height between the other two, reluctantly gave a half-hearted greeting, clearly in a bad mood.
"N-Nice to meet you!"
"...You don't have to be so stiff. It's fine. And, I'm sorry for my appearance... I REALLY should have thanked you for the rescue three days ago..."
Getting up was quite a struggle. He remained seated on the edge of the bed, but he bowed to them as best he could, expressing his gratitude.
"...I guess so. It's a miracle you're still alive... This is the commander "she" chose huh..."
"Eunhwa~?"
Although Emma gently scolded Eunhwa in her calm voice, Eunhwa clicked her tongue audibly and turned away.
"...Yeah, I have no words to retort... I'm so pathetic that I'm angry with myself."
"...Don't be too hard on yourself. You did well in that situation."
"Yeah... What surprised me more was when you suddenly woke up on the transport plane..."
"...I woke up?"
"You grabbed Emma's arm when you were receiving first aid on the plane... You said, 'I did it myself,' or something."
"...I don't remember that."
"It happened~~. Also, my arm hurt a lot from it~~."
Emma nodded, but he still couldn't recall it. All he remembered was looking up at the ceiling of the hospital room when he regained consciousness. He had no memory of what had happened while he was unconscious, but since all three of them were saying it, it must have actually happened.
"...By the way, did you hear the verdict?"
Eunhwa casually fiddled at her black hair and asked him. Moore nodded faintly in response.
"...Ah. The biggest reason I'm angry at myself for sleeping so peacefully."
"Hmph. Let me ask you one thing... What kind of subordinate is she to you?"
"...She? Who are you talking about?"
Eunhwa suddenly asked, leaving him puzzled as to who she was referring to. Her action prompted yet another click of her tongue.
"...Rapi."
"...She's excellent. She saved us from dire situations many times. I've always felt that she's too good for me to command."
"...She said you saved her a few times. Is that true?"
"...Wasn't it one question?"
"Tch... Just answer the question."
Did she need to click their tongues every time to hold a conversation? Moore considered whether it was her habit or if she was genuinely unhappy, then nodded slightly in response.
"I only remember carrying Rapi, who was injured, for transport..."
"...Carrying her, you say?"
Was she making a joke? Nikke, generally heavier than most due to their physique, was carried. Moore undoubtedly mentioned that, but Eunhwa, looking straight at him, found it hard to believe.
"Oh my... You're 'strong', aren't you?"
"....Nikke is a replaceable weapon. Why did you go to such lengths to help her?"
"Because she's an important subordinate. Is that not a good enough reason?"
Eunhwa's gaze, staring into Moore's eyes with disbelief, pierced him deeply. He had no other answer besides that.
----
The next day, Moore had a prosthetic leg below the knee.
Fitted with a socket for a below-knee prosthesis, Moore walked with crutches as he made his way down the elevator to the hospital rooftop.
The rooftop had been converted into an observation deck with several reclining chairs for resting. Moore, despite his slow progress, eventually arrived and sat down, taking a deep breath.
His recovery had been much faster than expected. His attending physician had prescribed him rehabilitation for the morning, during which he had been fitted with the prosthetic leg, followed by a few hours of rest in his hospital room. But the real reason he had come here was that he didn't want to remain cooped up in his room, overwhelmed by regret.
As his regret grew, the self-inflicted amputation of his right leg and the pain from removing the shards from his right eye began to throb.
He wanted to scratch his head instinctively, but with the bandages wrapped around him, he couldn't even do that.
What should he do?
As he pondered this question in his mind repeatedly, the sound of the elevator door opening behind him resonated.
"---How are you feeling?"
He wanted to retort with his pent-up frustration at the voice that had suddenly come from behind, but he held back.
"If I do lookfine... there's an ophthalmology department on the first floor. I recommend getting your eye checked."
He managed to hold back the bitterness, but sarcasm slipped out. However, the owner of the voice, who had asked from behind, didn't seem to be offended. Instead, they approached Moore and sat down on the reclining chair next to him, leaving a gap the size of one person.
"Your attending physician gave me these. ...Smoke if you like."
The person who had sat down next to him, Anderson, handed him a black box and, underneath it, a sealed envelope. Moore accepted them with his right hand, holding a cigarette between his lips. He lit it with an oil lighter, exhaling purple smoke after a long time.
"Do you have any business?"
"It's a visit. Nothing special... Oh, no, there was something."
"For your Excellency, usually bogged down with meetings, gracing me with your presence is quite unusual."
Even though his schedule was undoubtedly packed, Moore seemed a bit irritable, possibly due to the timing of this visit, and his thoughts appeared to be a bit sullen.
"First... this."
Just like the cigarettes earlier, Anderson handed a small black box to Moore in front of him, followed by a sealed letter beneath it. Moore received them and, just like with the cigarettes, opened the box. However, as soon as he did, several vertical wrinkles appeared on his forehead.
"While it was a mission that ignored the chain of command, they considered the fact that you were injured in combat. It's a combat service medal. There won't be an official award ceremony due to the verdict, but..."
Continuing, he took out the letter and began to read the certificate of commendation made of genuine paper derived from plant fibers. However, Moore lost interest and discarded it immediately. The certificate was torn once vertically and thrice horizontally, then unceremoniously discarded.
"It seems I've come at quite an inconvenient time."
Sensing that the timing wasn't right, Anderson returned the combat service medal.
"...Enikk's verdict is final. I understand your feelings, but there's no possibility of a retrial."
No matter how he raged, the verdict wouldn't be overturned. Anderson spoke of this absolute premise, and Moore, silent, continued to exhale purple smoke. However, the pupil of his uncovered left eye remained wide open, staring intensely straight ahead.
Without even an investigation by a legal officer—although it was certainly because the verdict had been handed down so quickly—Moore's verdict was a two-day ban on military duty. It was probably a lenient sentence because it wasn't a dishonorable discharge or true exile from the Ark.
However, the issue was the verdict handed down to Nikkes who participated in the mission.
For the squad members, it was one thing, but the verdict for both the Counters and the Wardress, who were squad leaders, Rapi and Mihara, was "memory erasure."
Enikk, the AI that prioritized the survival of the Ark and humanity, made a rational judgment. Perhaps it was a decision made with AI-like thinking that thoroughly eliminated emotions.
"...I heard it was under the pretext of preventing similar cases from happening again... But in the end, isn't it just a show of force?"
"...It's not just a simple show of force. Of course, that's certainly a part of it, but... we can't ignore the possibility that they themselves will no longer see deviations from command orders as a problem."
"And memory erasure is for that?"
Sitting by his right side, Anderson could only see the right half of Moore's face, covered in bandages. It was impossible to see what expression he was making, but it was strangely easy to surmise.
"...You can interpret it that way if you'd like. It might be frustrating for you...--- but let's change the subject. Your leg and right eye... Ingrid says she'll find suitable replacements through Nikke's parts. It might take some time for adjustments, though."
"This is the best news I've heard in the past few days. The prospect of being back on the battlefield..."
Finally, Moore turned his face toward Anderson. Anderson, whose gaze was met by Moore's single eye, was confident that his assumptions were correct.
His gaze was still sharp as ever.
----
Why is the hospital a non-smoking zone? It's really a struggle just to have a smoke.
Whenever he had free time, he would come to the rooftop observatory. The prosthetic leg was still in its initial state, but it was starting to feel more natural against his skin.
Anderson had mentioned that replacements for his right leg and eye would be sent through Ingrid, but Moore had been informed by his attending physician that the substitutes would arrive as soon as tomorrow. However, the right leg was somewhat of a "probably compatible" item, and it was unclear whether it could fully perform as intended.
He was unaware of the large sign on the observatory floor that said "Absolutely No Smoking."
Reaching the observatory floor with the support of his crutches, Moore walked with a gait that had become more accustomed to him. He took a seat on a chair and, from the pocket of his light blue hospital gown, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, an oil lighter, and a portable ashtray.
After lightly shaking the pack, he placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with the oil lighter. After inhaling deeply, filling his lungs, he exhaled slowly, savoring the feeling of mild intoxication.
But it didn't take long for it to burn out.
Regretfully, he flicked the cigarette butt into the portable ashtray.
"...You've come here, huh?"
...He wonder if it's a jinx that someone always comes when he's on this observatory.
Moore turned his head over his shoulder, and Rapi, who had taken the elevator down, approached with a bag in one hand.
"...I'm sorry I couldn't come to visit."
"...No, don't worry about it."
"How are you feeling..."
She started to inquire about his condition, but she noticed the right leg extending from the hem of his light blue shorts, clearly not a living limb, and her words faltered.
"...Well, have a seat."
He didn't have any interest in making his visitor stand. Rapi nodded and took a seat next to him, leaving about three clenched fists' worth of space on his right side. She began to search through the bag she had brought.
"...I wasn't sure what would be a suitable gift for a visit... I could only think of the brand of cigarettes you like, Commander."
"Ah, thank you. I only had one left. This will keep me going for a while. You're a lifesaver."
For a smoker, cigarettes are akin to oxygen. Moore expressed his heartfelt gratitude to Rapi, who had brought a whole carton of them as a gift.
"Well, I did wonder if bringing cigarettes to a hospital was a good idea..."
"Asking me to quit smoking is like a death sentence... sorry."
"No... I..."
Moore realized that his attempt at light-hearted humor had failed, and he said so out loud.
He had a vague sense that Rapi had come here for their final farewell, and words like "death sentence" were completely inappropriate.
As the silence lingered and the atmosphere grew uncomfortable, Moore decided to distract himself. He pulled out another cigarette from his hospital gown pocket and placed it in his mouth. However, this time, when he opened the lid of the oil lighter with a distinct metallic sound and tried to ignite it by rotating the wheel and causing sparks on the flint... nothing happened. It seemed the oil had run out at just this moment.
What a useless junk, but then immediately corrected his thinking, wondering if he himself was also useless.
Suddenly, a slender arm extended from the side, and in its small hand, Moore's remaining eye caught something.
"...Please."
What Rapi held in her hand was a turbo lighter that used a mixed gas.
When prompted, Moore leaned closer to the end of the cigarette held between her fingers, creating a windbreak with both hands. He pressed the button, and a blue flame flickered slightly. He used it to ignite the tip of the cigarette, then pulled away, holding the cigarette with his right index and middle fingers while covering her hand with his other hand, allowing the purple smoke to billow.
"...I didn't know you had a lighter."
"...I bought it today, without any particular reason. I happened to see it at the counter when I was buying the cigarettes for the visit."
"Ah, I see." Moore nodded, and then he put the cigarette back in his mouth, deeply inhaling and exhaling thin purple smoke.
Rapi, who had experienced the smoke up close, narrowed her eyes as she looked out from the observatory over the cityscape of the Ark.
"It's... a little scary."
Moore listened silently, knowing that these were her honest feelings.
"I also feel regret. But... Enikk's verdict cannot be overturned. It's the very foundation that keeps the Ark going."
As a mere Second Lieutenant without the power to make decisions, all Moore could offer was the official voice recording he had declared to Shifty during the recent operation. Thanks to that, they had managed to avoid responsibility for violating the Commander's absolute protection rule.
However, in the end, that was all he could do. He couldn't change the verdict itself.
Sadly, that was his limit. That was the 'modest' resistance allowed to Lieutenant Show Moore at this moment.
Rapi continued, "Fortunately, the squad will be maintained," but then she asked a question that weighed heavily.
"What will happen to you after the memory erasure?"
"I'll return to the state of my memories right after I was manufactured. All memories before the memory erasure will be erased. I've heard that battle data is often retained, but everything else will be wiped."
"Ah...."
Moore listened to her words with a deep sigh mixed in.
"Neon, Anis, your existence, and even... why I have this lighter, I won't remember any of it."
Rapi gazed at the red-eyed turbo lighter in her hand and eventually stowed it away in her pocket.
"It's about time."
Rising to her feet, Rapi stood before him. Even though her posture seemed natural as she looked down at him, she also aligned her heels.
"Thank you, Commander. Please take care of me after my memory erasure."
With a crisp sound, she saluted Moore. He reflexively tried to raise his right hand in return, but it stopped about shoulder level.
Without reaching his forehead, the five fingers were lowered, and they were extended toward her.
Understanding his intent, she eventually released her salute, gripping his large right hand with her slender right hand, and they shook hands.
"...It's like we're meeting for the first time. I'll be prepared for you to tell me all sorts of things."
"Yes. Please take care of me."
The moment they let go of each other's hands, both of them felt an inexplicable sense of nostalgia.
----
Author Notes: It was mentioned in a side quest in the main game that Niké's legs can be repurposed as prosthetic limbs for humans. (I'm not sure about the eyeballs, but... well, it should work, probably, most likely.)
(Tl notes: Eyes are completely different level than legs or eyes, Sir Author. It connects to BRAIN. But well, guess there's always plot armor in bits like these.)
