[Audio: Locked to the Brave Police minus Yuuta] [back dated a few days]

[chieftain]

I... I don't know why but..

it feels wrong...

it feels like...

like the hamlin wave again...

please I don't...

I don't want to...

I

I'm afraid I will do terrible things

again

I don't want to.

Please, stop me.

I... if you must

Kill me

Do it

I'd rather die then go back.

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[thxforthememories]

[It's his chance. He knows it. He sees it. And though part of him is screaming in denial, his frame is in motion. He could no more stop himself now than he could turn himself human. Programming has taken hold.]

[Even... if his AI isn't in it. His "heart" doesn't want this.]

[He keeps moving, putting all his momentum behind the lunge. He doesn't even know if his strength is enough to pierce the Chieftain's helm... but there's no one else. He can't call anyone else.]

[And, really, this is his obligation, isn't it? His design, his fault.]

[On an impulse, his thrusters fire, driving him forward with a little more speed, a little more force, all of it behind the blade in his hand.]


[... forgive me ...]

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[chieftain]

[His end is coming, and he can see it, so much of him screaming that he wants to live, but he already knows better. He can't live, not like this.

The speed and force of the strike is there, he can calculate the critical damage it will cause. He will die, hopefully fast.

As the sword sinks in to his helm he takes a little more control, a smile and a short text, mostly garbled, making it out before the circuit board goes dark.]

|3ifas#* thank (&%|

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[thxforthememories]

[He goes tense, at first, expecting it not to work. Expecting to bounce right off the helmet.]

[But the blade sinks in. It goes all the way up to the hilt before it stops. He's left staring at it in shock, in surprise, bewildered that it actually worked. And... then the message comes through.]

[He lifts his head. Stares. The feelings shoved away by his need to survive, his own desire to live, suddenly come flooding back as he stares at the frame. His hands shake. His frame shakes, and he loses his grip on the sword, sinking down to his knees with exhaustion, and bitter regret.]

[He's... never taken a life. He'd been prepared to, willing to. But it hadn't come to that, had it? Now the fluids on his hands aren't some unknown human being, but a fellow robot's.]

[One he'd promised to protect.]

[One more broken promise.]

[All he can do is sit there, on his knees, wanting to be sick, wanting to cry, and being utterly incapable of either expression.]

Forgive me.

[And once the words are out, they don't stop. He whispers them until static laces through his voice.]

Forgive me.