Progression is the greatest thing mankind can achieve on its own

“… Thank you, though.”

It’s amazing how years under their rule could not change the anxiety and struggle it caused to say such simple words. Thank you. Ma’am. I’m sorry. Things that sent quakes in her spine and a twist in the gut she no longer bore. It’s hard to breathe, but she does her best to hide it. She’s kept this up for thousands of years. What’s one more night to add to it?

There’s another prolonged pause, just to see what she’d do. Then, when they were done with their drink, an ominous tapping on their glass echoed through the speakers and emphasized their last remark to her before the intercom shut off entirely and her connection to her soldiers was silenced. For hours, she’d sit in silence, no connection to the outside world.

Then again, she’s used to that sort of thing, isn’t she?

She’s quick to finish off the last snippets on Al’s reply before promptly cutting herself off, speeding up the timer set on her computer for just a moment until it shuts off. She’d been prolonging it unknowingly, the downside of having her eye connected directly to the systems. As long as she was connected, she could control her access. They knew that, which must have been why they spoke up.

“A recipe,” she quipped back, promptly shutting her screen and powering it down before any sort of bug or device could sneak into it. “A possible new cure. That’s all. I got carried away in my excitement… I shouldn’t have.”

A hesitant pause. Fingers wrung each other in anxiety, back spines purposefully pointed towards the one camera she knew they were watching through.

“All is forgiven, my dear. Just let me know next time. If you need more time for a cure... I’m sure I can work something out for you.”

「幸せなら手をたたこう」を歌うオカメインコ (by Ikoino Mori)