The second those words leave Hoole's lips, you freeze in place. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest, pounding blood into your ears, but everything else has ground to a halt. You see, in your mind's eye, the timelines available to you. You have been able to see them for a while now. As mentioned prior, your time in the void taught you things. You can see timelines, but cannot interact with them. Thus your abilities are left to performing the actions you know will set things on a specific timeline.
You had been doing great. You were chugging along on the best path possible. All you had to do was get Hoole to run and everything would have stayed on course. Except... he had said no. In that instant, several timelines disappeared from your view. Including the one with the best outcome. You mentally curse as you view those remaining, spending precious minutes when in reality it is mere seconds. You do not have many options now. And the few you do... are not exactly comforting.
But it is all the choices you have and you suppose you are grateful to at the very least have choice at all. You choose the new "best" timeline in your opinion and return to the outside world with a bit of blinking. Rua is stalking towards you two and if he could show emotion you are rather certain he would be pissed for that book to the face. Glancing once more at Hoole, you at last turn to face the android with a frown.
'This is it....' you think.
'This is where I save a timeline.'
As Rua starts to reach out for Hoole, you abruptly leap forward with a sharp cry. You slam into the android's metal abdomen hard enough to make him take a step back, limbs immediately wrapping around any available surface. You can feel more than see red eyes shift down to you as you grunt. "You leave him alone you big bully!!" Your plan works as a cold hand snatches the back of your shirt, forcefully ripping you away from where you were clinging to him. You are lifted so fast you almost get vertigo, and then you are face-to-face with the monster, feet dangling many feet above the ground.
"D a t a c o l l e c t i o n i n i t i a t e d . P r e s e r v a t i o n o f t a r g e t i s n o t p r i o r i t y . P r e p a r i n g u t i l i z a t i o n o f m e t h o d t w o e x t r a c t i o n ."
You tense as Rua grabs you by the throat instead, releasing your shirt to free his other hand. Your own tiny ones scrabble at his wrist desperately for purchase as you find your windpipe half cut-off. You know what is coming. You have seen it. That does not make you any less terrified. No matter what Hoole says or does at this point, it is too late for you now. Rua is an immovable wall of titanium as he positions his hand in front of your face, mere inches separating metal plating from flushed skin. As you see the appendage shifting into a new shape, you finally cease your struggles, going almost limp in his grip. It will hurt less that way.
"H-Hoole... hey... d-don't worry, he's coming, all right? So just... stop being so fucking stupid!!"
"M e t h o d t w o e x t r a c t i o n i n i t i a t e d ."
All you can hear is your own muffled screaming and the disgusting, bone-chilling sound of flesh being torn apart as Rua abruptly presses his modified hand to your face. Tiny spikes dig into your skin, then proceed to drill further, wires forcing their way past nerves and muscle to the brain through whatever ports they can squeeze into. Hot blood is spilling down your face to pour onto the carpet and some of it splatters onto Hoole and the couch as your body convulses, screams morphing to choked gurgles as the wires invade your brain. You know what he wants. It is only too bad you are letting him have it to make sure Hoole survives this.
"D a t a o b t a i n e d . R e t r a c t i n g e x t r a c t i o n p r o b e s ."
It is the last thing you hear, aside from anything Hoole might be saying, before darkness overcomes you entirely. You fall, body hitting the carpet with a squishy thud, though your spirit continues plummeting into a dark void. It will probably morph into a dream bubble or something. But in reality, in Hoole's living room, your corpse lies on its back in a puddle of your own blood. Your face is mutilated beyond recognition; eyes gouged out, nose crushed, teeth broken. The blood soaks into the pages of the cook book you had thrown at Rua earlier as the probes sink back into his hand and it returns to normal. After a few long seconds of data processing, those cold, unfeeling eyes finally return to Hoole.
"E x t e r m i n a t e ."
