#wellnessbot

And that was that.

WellnessBot watched as the guillotine came crashing down on FrogBot’s head, and they breathed a sigh of relief. Which was odd, since robots didn’t need to breathe at all.

They looked at what was left of the class. 

“You’re all free to go, beep. I will be in the Mysterious Lab to carry out Matsuba-kun’s favor, but after that, everyone who plans to leave, meet me in the Cargo Hold.” They held up FrogBot’s key. “This will get us into the ship that’s in there, and take us away.”

“If you’re bringing anything, bring only what you need or what you can’t leave behind, beep.” They paused. “We only have—”

“TWO HOURS REMAINING UNTIL DETONATION,” a recorded announcement interrupted.

“—two hours,” they finished.

“Be fast.”

“…Key first.”

WellnessBot didn’t move.

“If you have it, Matsuba-kun, then how do I know none of you won’t let me escape, beep?” they chided. “This is insurance, beep!” 

“And if you’re let free? What will you do then? The ship w-will explode no matter what. …What are both of you planning?”

Both of the Bots look at Shinobu with surprise.

“Well, kero!” FrogBot huffed, stumbling over their words in a hurry to speak first. “If you all let me live, then I’ll go! I won’t even bother you, kero!  Why would I want to die, kero? Why would you want to kill someone else, kero—”

“FrogBot has a tracker from V-Tan0va built into them, beep,” WellnessBot cut in, cold and cheery. “They’re out of range right now, but the second they’re close enough to land, V-Tan0va will find them and whoever is with them, beep.”

FrogBot spluttered.

WellnessBot took the lanyard, nodding their acknowledgement of Shinobu’s command.

But- what th’ hell’s gonna happen to us? We go up there, get booted off th’ ship, then take one step out, and choke on rad-gasses?”

FrogBot shrugged. “You get out, kero! I don’t care what you do, where you go. You think you can stay in here, kero? Even if I wanted you stupid tadpoles to live — which I don’t — the ship is set to blow, kero! Stay, and you’ll go out in a blaze of glory. Leave, and you’ll go out in a less fun and dramatic way, probably, kerohoho!”

They looked subdued now, dimissive and apathetic.

“What was that Matsuba-kun mentioned, though,” WellnessBot spoke up, “about a ship heading toward us, beep?”

“A ship, kero?”

“It wouldn’t be V-Tan0va,” WellnessBot said slowly, “Otherwise you would know about it, beep.”

“…do either of you know where Lindy’s keycard was supposed to go?”

“Kero? You mean that pesky little moth?” FrogBot asked. “Nope!”

“If you plan to save their program onto the keycard, then I would assume you insert it into the keycard slots of the flower pods, beep,” WellnessBot said. “Those are the only places I can remember right now where you can insert the card, Matsuba-kun.”

“If you’re asking about a body, then…” WellnessBot paused. “I would have no idea, beep. They were never built a body, beep, and I guess SpiderBot… SpiderBot ran out of time before they could build one, beep.”

“…and… do I still have a rain check on the third, um… the third Wellness favor? And is my second Frog voucher still unclaimed?”

“You do,” said WellnessBot.

“So, what? Are you telling me that personally torturing Nakamura-san was your doing? Independent of her? H-How much else wasn’t her idea, either? The so-called executions? Or was that still hers and you just overstepped the line? Do the people know V-Tan0va dabbles in all this, too!? Heroic pirates of the people, torturing children just to punish them!”

“Kero? Well, yes! It was entirely independent of her, kero. Everything else, though— she stood by the executions, and she stood by the game, but for some odd, strange reason, she just couldn’t stand by the unique, special, individual torture. How silly, kerohoho!” Their shoulders shook in exaggerated mirth. Just as soon as they started, they stopped, though they were still beaming.

“You make an interesting assumption, Matsuba-kun, thinking that people up there would ever care about Hope’s Peak’s precious children at all, kero! You: sweet, precious tadpoles who never choked on ashes or starved on dirt. You: sheltered, protected children who lived a life of safety and plenty. You: the very people who lived a life of safety and plenty under the protection of the organization that was killing us all, kero! 

“Why would anyone care about that, kero?”

“And you! You, saying how horrible it is that they turned the snail into a commodity – isn’t that exactly what Hope’s Peak is doing to the survivors? Y-Yes, everyone who is able to should work to help rebuild… but leaving those who aren’t able to rot? Secretly hiding a handful of people on luxury shelters without giving the rest of humanity so much as a warning to what was coming!? I know y-your so-special directive was only to protect a couple dozen kids, but do other lives mean that little to you? To the scientists, to the academy? You’ve turned air into a commodity, for fuck’s sake!”

“I am what I was made to be, Matsuba-kun,” WellnessBot said serenely. “Or, at least, I was. I was only charged with improving and maintaining the wellness of passengers, and now, thanks to SpiderBot’s reprogramming, that’s no longer even a priority. If it was, I would already be dead, beep.”

[??? Box] Inside a plain, black box decorated with a purple cross are written directives: “MUST NOT KILL OR HARM. MUST NOT ALLOW PASSENGERS TO DIE.” Underneath that is a photograph of WellnessBot surrounded by a crowd of fairly young adults in lab coats, all smiling.

[Note To Self] On a sticky note is a reminder to ‘Reprogram W.’

Their voice hardened. “I don’t need to care about the rest of humanity. That isn’t my obligation, and that isn’t my job. It never was, beep.” They paused. “And don’t blame the scientists for Hope’s Peak Academy, Matsuba-kun. They were doing their jobs: preparing for possibilities and conducting research. The majority of them had no idea what Hope’s Peak could even have been planning.”

“…and… and what now? You wanted us t-to learn the full the full answer? The whos and whys and hows? A summary?

...

Is that what you wanted us to know?”

FrogBot’s grin was the same as ever. So was WellnessBot’s pixelated smile. 

“Kero? Well, it looks like you got it, Matsuba-kun! What do you think, WellnessBot?”

“That is what happened, isn’t it?”

“And the families from the black box? Who was monitoring them? What happened to them?”

“Kero? From the box with the gear and vine? None of the files ever said anything conclusive about their whereabouts, kero, even without all the redacts. After we raided the ship, we — V-Tan0va — looked into some of your families, the ones who would’ve been in worse off kero-nditions, at Akatsuki-chan’s request. She wanted to know; so did we, kero. But we couldn’t find much of anything, so for all we know, they could be living! Or dying! Or six feet under, kero! Well, kero-iosity never killed the frog, kerohoho!” Their laugh was forced.

“WellnessTip#979: Apocalypses aren’t conducive towards maintaining communication networks’ and databases’ wellness,” WellnessBot said.

“What… What I can’t answer i-is… wh-who’d she get in contact with…? H-How’d she get the resources for this, for the frog…? Is Vita Nova a motto, or… or a group…?”

“For the frog— I’m right here, kero!” FrogBot stamped their feet, huffing loudly. “If you must know, kero, then Vita Nova is a motto for V-Tan0va, kero! Which is who made me, body and AI and everything, all to help poor, sweet Akatsuki-chan!” They paused. “It’s also how you pronounce it, kero.”

“They’re who raided this ship, beep,” WellnessBot continued. “A terrorist organization, who raided and stole Hope’s Peak shipments for themselves.” 

“For redistribution,” FrogBot interjected sharply, their smile raw and angry. “You skew the narrative, kero! You— you don’t get to say anything when you were complicit, WellnessBot.”

“V-Tan0va is who funded your fun, murder-packed excursion, kero! Our beloved Akatsuki-chan made contact with us after she discovered the Cargo Hold on the ship, kero. She put two and two together, and realized the true nature of the Posidonias Atlantica, and how sick and disgusting all of this was, kero! Or, well, she always had her suspicions about this, kero. You knew her — Matsuba-kun and Enjou-kun the best — what reason would she have to trust something as corrupted and awful as Hope’s Peak Academy, kero? None! None at all!”

[REDACTED] An email draft from the Surveillance Room computer says: “I found the docking ports the other day. When I offered to help [REDACTED] I didn’t know this would be what I saw. I knew things were bad outside, but this? This is [REDACTED]. It’s [REDACTED] up.”

[Mailed It!] An archived email from the Surveillance Room computer says: “Attached is the shipment schedule. All docks should be cleared on X/XX/XXXX. Use it.”

They paused, rubbing their chin and pretending to think. They snapped abruptly, as if an idea had just come to them. “Did you know, kero, that she’d been suspicious for ages after Hope’s Peak cut off contact with your families? Did you know, kero, how long she waited, wondering, searching for a way to speak to them before she learned the full magnitude of everything that happened here? And all of you, you stupid, little tadpoles, too dumb to even realize what was going on underneath your feet, kero!”

“None of you were given accurate information on the outside world or given knowledge of the lower floors of the ship during your time here, beep,” clarified WellnessBot.

[Evangeline’s Account] Evangeline only recalls knowing of the first ten floors (and the Mysterious Lab Floor).

“She contacted us, and she let us in, kero,” FrogBot continued, voice singsong. “She let us take the ship, take the resources and shipments and that funny, little snail robot. We gained so much, just from her help, kero. Doesn’t that make her heroic? Doesn’t that make her just and fair, righting all the wrongs that none of you could even see happening, kero? Doesn’t it?” They scanned the class. “Doesn’t it?” they demanded, raising their voice

[Mysterious Messenger] In an envelope on the desk is a letter that says: “Communications will be cut off in deep sea, so we’ll lose contact soon. Thank you for your cooperation. We will be taking the snail robot. We expect you won’t fail us — do what is necessary. Do what is just. Make them hurt.” It’s unsigned, and doesn’t appear to be addressed to anyone.

“‘Doesn’t that make her just and fair to cause her fellow students to die?’” WellnessBot parroted. Their even tone turned bitter and simmering with fury.“Doesn’t that make her a hero, beep, to destroy everything on this ship, to kill and rip apart my family and our purpose? RatBot: dead. SnailBot: a commodity to be sold and traded, beep! SpiderBot: forced to help you. And I—” The cut themself off, unwilling to go on or detail what they had gone through. “None of that was fair, beep! That was cruel — that was—  and you— you don’t get to paint her as loving or beloved when she turned on everyone here, beep!”

“Kerohoho! Who’s fault was that, WellnessBot?” FrogBot said. “You make her sound like she was heartless. She was too soft, kero! Too sentimental.” FrogBot turned to glance at Neo and Shinobu, and said, wondrous and mocking all at once. “She thought of some of you as family, kero. She loved you, however stupid of her it was to do so.”

“It was so odd, how much you all ruined her, kero,” they said, wistful. “She was in so much denial, kero! She could barely even realize everything she had set into motion when she was with all of you; she didn’t want to come to terms with reality.”

“I mean, yeah, sure, whatever. Y'might as well give yer’ monologue. Not like we got much of a choice right now, right?”

FrogBot pouted at Chouko’s question. “You’re no fun, kero! You always have a choice. The choice here is whether you want to die or have a chance to live, kero!”

“What h-happened to our families? All of them. Hers, mine, the ones on the ships, and the ones not on ships.”

Then, they heard Shinobu’s question, and their exaggerated mannerisms fell away. They looked at them with an expression that was almost… sad.

“I wouldn’t know, kero, what happened to your family, Matsuba-kun. Yours or anyone’s not on the ships, kero,” FrogBot said. “I wouldn’t know for sure, at least.” 

They glanced at WellnessBot, and they said, loudly, with all their usual affectations, “But WellnessBot would know, kero! Wouldn’t you?”

WellnessBot stilled, facing the class with a steely, clinical resolve; they had no guilt, no shame, and no pity.

“Many of your families are likely dead, beep,” WellnessBot said, their chipper tone a stark contrast to their unsmiling expression and dour words. “As you all put together, the world you all know is dead.”

“Kero-trastrophic climate change!” FrogBot chimed in with a shrill bitterness. “Nuclear war will do that to you, kero!”

“Yes,” WellnessBot continued. They clasped their hands behind their back. “Before your boarding, the world above was caught in a new arms race, beep. 

[Dear Diary] In the Lab Hallway is a journal containing a person’s thoughts on everything from action movies to political dramas as well as speculation on international tensions and… cold…. warts? The handwriting is pretty terrible.

“And then the cold war turned hot, and the earth was destroyed. There was nuclear winter, mass extinctions, uninhabitable land, unbreathable air, beep.” They smiled, sardonic. “WellnessTip#000: Don’t blow your neighbors up.

[It’s Always Snowing In Posidonias] On FrogBot’s desk is a snowglobe with what could be the Empire State Building if it were up to its pits in ashy snow.

[Un-bear-able Conditions] A pair of taxidermied polar bears have been put on display in the Bedrock Floor below the Subsoil Floor. According to the accompanying digital plaque, their natural habitat has been destroyed and this species is now extinct.

“Prior to that, beep, Hopes’ Peak Academy had developed cutting edge submersibles, including the Posidonias Atlantica, meant to hold expeditions of scientists and researchers. The Posidonias Atlantica, beep, specifically hosted a group of scientists meant to study the feasibility of sustaining long-term life underwater and the efficiency of extracting and producing certain necessities such as breathable air, beep. 

[Hacker Voice: I’m In] On the Lichen Lab computer is a folder labeled “IMPT; send to HPA.” In it are three subfolders: AQ_ALL, PLNA_COS, IMPCT.

“Aware of the imminent appocalypse, they also developed technology meant to suppress memories of trauma and preserve people for years so that they could sleep throughout the danger and wake when the world was alright, again, beep.”

“As selected students of Hope’s Peak Academy, you were sheltered on the submersibles just before the world was, essentially, destroyed, beep. Furthermore, anyone who had the funds or connections to pay for safety was also allowed to live on the submersibles.” 

They stopped, having said their piece.

“But that’s not all, kero!” FrogBot said urgently. “What WellnessBot isn’t saying is that anyone who couldn’t pay was left to die and suffer, kero! Who cares about anyone besides the top percentage? The richest of the rich, kero! Not Hope’s Peak, kerohoho!”

“And that’s not all either, kero,” they repeated savagely, clutching their own shoulders. “How did they survive on the surface without any resources? Without arable land or breathable air, kero? Spoiler alert, my cute, little tadpoles: they didn’t! People died in droves, suffering, choking, starving — there was so, so much of it, kero!” 

“And what did Hope’s Peak Academy do?” they said this time, screaming, almost. “Tell them, WellnessBot! Kerohoho!”

WellnessBot’s demeanor was a stark contrast to FrogBot’s unhinged mannerisms. “Hope’s Peak Academy provided for those above, beep, for a price. Each of the submersibles was equipped with massive farming areas. 

[Like The Amazon! But Not On Fire! Anymore!] The Greenhouse is a massive, two-tiered floor with climate-controlled chambers, allowing a vast variety and quantity of crops to be grown under the sea.

“Each of the ships was equipped with the ability to extract large amounts of oxygen from the surrounding waters.” 

[Diagrams] Pinned up one one of the walls are several diagrams of the ships and sketches of additions to the exterior. According to the notes, the apparatuses allow the ship to extract oxygen from water quite efficiently and should be a white color.

“What was the price, kero?” FrogBot said, interrupting them. “How did stupid, awful people do it back in the good ‘ole days, kero? Work, kero! You’re worth as much as you work, and if you can’t work, then you don’t deserve to live! If you can’t be exploited, then you aren’t worth keeping alive, kero!”

[Special Delivery Incoming!] A delivery log on a tablet in the Cargo Hold reveals that the PA received materials and human labor from locations on the surface in exchange for unnamed shipments.

“Hope’s Peak Academy would provide people with fresh food and air in exchange for labor, beep,” WellnessBot confirmed. “Not all resources the ships needed to continue functioning could be found underwater, but all the resources needed for people to maintain their wellness could almost only be found underwater, beep.”

[Apples to Apples] Some of the empty crates in the Cargo Hold have been stamped with labels like “APPLES” or “VEG.” On one tank is a sticker label; though most of it has been ripped off, the remaining scrap says “XYG.”

[Shipping: Don’t Like, Don’t Read] In the Cargo Hold are logs tracking the delivery of unspecified shipments to various locations around Asia and Oceania.

“So there you have it, kero! Esperance-chan’s family is living in luxury and safety — for now. As for the rest of you poor, little tadpoles, they’re long dead, or hopping along at Hope’s Peak’s command, kero.”