@podshot

Though the phones they’d been given were relatively simple compared to the tech he was used to, they were surprisingly difficult to format. 9S peers at the screen, sitting crosslegged on his bed. Wires run from the charging port to the open panel on his chest, plugged directly into his black box, allowing him to view his own diagnostics without entering repair mode. 

No matter what he tried he couldn’t seem to break into his own code and unlock his hacking or NFCS. The guide he’d been provided had helped him get this far, but now it felt like it was nothing more than an effort to tease him, dangling the promise of freeing his abilities just out of reach. Everything else reads as normal. No problems to report. With an exasperated sigh he closes the connection and tugs the wires out of his box, replacing his chest plate and pulling his black undershirt back on.  

Backing out to the phone’s main screen, he lies back in bed, thinking about who else might be able to help. Pathfinder was one of the only other robots here, and the only one 9S felt like he might be able to trust. Should really try out the messaging app, as primitive as it seemed. 9S had glanced through it the day he’d arrived, but he’d simply been too distracted by his surroundings and the insistence of his programming to find his bearings before playing around with ancient technology. 

He opens the app. If he had a heart it would have skipped a beat. 2B’s name is there, at the very top of the list. 9S sits up suddenly, hunched over the screen. It... it can’t be, she’s been here all along? And he never ran into her? It was a large island, but... God, she must have no idea he’s here either or she surely would have contacted him. With shaking fingers, he selects her name and types out a message.