Even buried deep in the woodlands, 9S notices the brilliant purple flash as it momentarily lights up the sky. The winter-bare trees leave the canopy clear enough to roughly pinpoint the area it had come from, somewhere in the center of the main island. Immediately he abandons his forest-mapping to head over to the source.
Being all the way in Beaulieu, even with his ability to run without tiring, the action is long over by the time he reaches the site. He’s not the only one who’s come to gawk. There’s a small crowd of other residents, some looking shell-shocked, some sobbing into their hands. The pavement is scorched, blackened streaks radiating out from the point of impact, ash strewn about and mixing with the lightly-falling snow. 9S crouches down and wipes a finger along the street, bringing it his tongue to analyze it.
What traces had survived tell him this was a living thing at one point. Something had come along and completely immolated a whole lot of people at once. So soon after the last disaster too. This place was packaged as some sort of idyllic couples’ paradise, but he’d been here less than a week and already he’d seen two incidents of mass casualty. Was this just the way things were around here? Didn’t the people running this circus have any control over what happened? Or was this done on purpose? It was like he’d said to Vanna. Nothing like tragedy to bring people together.
He tries asking the residents gathered around if they knew what had happened, but they either don’t, or don’t want to say anything, shaking their heads at him silently. Not surprising at all that most people wanted to lock themselves back in their rooms after that.
When further questioning proves fruitless, 9S decides just to return to his assigned housing and try again tomorrow when some of the shock had worn off. He keeps well clear of the waterways as he makes the journey back. There was something in there, and while he wasn’t certain if it posed any danger to him, he knew it was better to be cautious.
Arriving back at the house, he lets himself in, muttering quietly to himself lest he wake up Snatcher and get an earful about being a noisy roommate. “Geez... Who would do something like this?” Talking to himself was a tough habit to break when he worked alone so much of the time. It really made him miss his Pod. It would always be there to helpfully propose another course of action. Something like suggesting he get that ashy taste out of his mouth. He glances at Snatcher’s bedroom door as he moves to the kitchen.
