[ @auraunbound | cybele // for watts ]
The sound of an opening door caught Arthur’s attention just long enough for a glance to see who it was; then, with a grunt that might be taken for a greeting with a generous imagination, he returned to the dual screens he’d been pouring over for the last few hours. On one of them, the footage of the Viceroy unit’s first real proving wound through the penultimate moment of trapped-animal violence and lingered for a few seconds on the carnage of shredded metal and fried electronics that had followed before it looped again.
He scoffed, quietly, deep in his throat. Not an impressive showing for the magical experiment that had become the team’s darling.
Jerking his chin toward the footage, he asked, “What do you make of that?”
Arthur had his own conclusions, of course—that the unit had been programmed to learn almost organically, and then the rest of the team had structured her training to encourage the development of a personality. One not at all suited to the rigors of battle. The damn thing liked butterflies. What had they expected?
But Cybele was an intern: here to learn. Far be it from him to tell her what to think.
