Chapter 2: The Prototype
Upon crossing the threshold, the soldiers found themselves perplexed and startled by the unconventional layout of the interior. Adorned with 19th-century embellishments, bathed in a warm yellow glow, and boasting an expansive space, the premises presented a sight unlike any they had encountered before, despite their decade-long tenure at the fort. Yet, to the General's discerning gaze, such aesthetics were not novel. Approaching the cashier to settle the bill for the buffet, he observed the staff, clad in the restaurant's pristine white uniforms, engaged in casual banter. As he stood before the counter, the cashier, amidst her conversation with colleagues, turned her head to glance at him.
"Good day, sir... How can I assist you today?" the lady stuttered nervously, her first encounter with a higher-ranking military officer leaving her somewhat flustered.
Klaus nodded politely in response. "Good day to you," he replied, before getting to the matter at hand. "How much for 32 people?" he inquired.
Upon hearing the request, the lady was taken aback by the sizable party Klaus intended to accommodate, considering the potential cost involved.
"Um, sir, the price per person is 200 marks... if we multiply that by 32, the total would come to 6,400 marks," she explained, her voice trailing off as she awaited his reaction.
"Okay then...!" Klaus responded casually, as if the four-digit price tag was of little consequence to him.
"Eh...?" The lady was left speechless, surprised by the seemingly effortless manner in which Klaus agreed to the significant sum.
"Okay, that's settled then," Klaus declared. With a practiced motion, he retrieved a card containing his financial resources.
The lady quickly calculated the total charges before gesturing for Klaus to confirm his payment by swiping his card on a device located at the side of the counter.
"Well, that settles it, General. Please enjoy your stay!" The lady welcomed him once again, her tone polite and accommodating. Klaus nodded in acknowledgment, offering a brief but courteous reply.
Seated at the elongated table tucked away in the corner, Adelheid idly tapped her fingers on the sleek screen of her phone, her attention drifting through the endless stream of updates. Despite stumbling upon a news article detailing the ongoing conflict between the Eastern and Western powers, she flicked past it with a disinterested flick of her thumb, her weariness palpable as she avoided delving into the latest developments. However, as she continued her casual scrolling, a barrage of news reports inundated her feed, each one bearing witness to the grim realities of the war, amplified by the perspectives of various broadcasting networks aligned with both coalition powers. Before she could delve deeper into any of the articles, Klaus's sudden intervention seized her attention, the abruptness of his action sparking surprise in her eyes as she met his gaze head-on, a mix of curiosity and defiance flickering within her gaze.
"Engaging with propaganda, Lieutenant, isn't healthy for your mind," he cautioned, his voice firm but not unkind. Placing her phone gently on the table, he pushed it toward her with a deliberate motion, his eyes conveying a message of concern.
"General," she began, her tone tinged with curiosity, "are you concerned about the ongoing war?" Before he could formulate a response, he casually unbuttoned his overcoat and settled into the seat beside her.
"The war's duration is the only aspect that concerns me, Adelheid," he replied, his tone reflecting a hint of unease. "No conflict should endure for over a decade."
"But what troubles me most are the kinds of weapons being employed," he added, his voice tinged with apprehension. She fell into silence, her curiosity piqued by his mention of "certain" weapons.
"What are those weapons, sir?" Adelheid inquired, her interest clearly piqued. Klaus hesitated for a moment, weighing his words carefully before divulging information about these enigmatic armaments.
"According to one of our Orbiter ships, both coalitions used nanomachine viruses, and continuous-radioactive weaponry. The worst part of using such weapons is that it kills people indiscriminately..."
"I cannot disclose further information, Adelheid... That's all i can disclose of." He concluded, thus Adelheid went silent. She couldn't imagine what it felt like if ever Hildenbourg joined the conflict.
"I-Is there a possibility that Hildenbourg would join the conflict...?" Adelheid's voice wavered with concern as she posed the question. The General's expression darkened, a flicker of disturbance crossing his features.
"Do you really want to know what modern warfare feels like? Certainly not," Klaus responded, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration as he slightly raised his voice. "S-Sorry sir..." Adelheid apologized quickly, feeling the weight of her inquiry. She clenched her phone tightly, tucking it into her chest pocket, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
The entourage of the General moved forward, their eyes alighting upon the table where the General and Adelheid held court. The table, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, gleamed under the soft glow of the room's ambient light, its intricate details a testament to the skilled hands that had fashioned it. As they drew nearer, the escorts divided themselves, some choosing to sink into the plush seats surrounding the table, their tired forms grateful for the respite, while others, their posture resolute, remained on their feet, their watchful eyes scanning the surroundings with unwavering diligence.
"Feel free to grab your plates, all charges have been paid," Klaus announced, prompting those still standing to move towards the buffet. Some eagerly lined up while others, including Annette Hosenfeld, the Lieutenant officer who escorted the General, hesitated, waiting for the line to shorten. Despite Adelheid's seemingly unapproachable expression, Annette decided to initiate a conversation with her, determined to engage in casual chatter despite the perceived barriers.
"Lieutenant... Lieutenant... " Annette uttered Adelheid's rank. She then looked at Annette, glaring at her like an individual with malicious intent.
"... What do you want?" Adelheid asked, her tone sharp and guarded.
"Lieutenant, I was just wondering if you're open to answering a few questions," Annette replied, her curiosity undeterred.
"...Regarding your service in the Marine Corps," she clarified.
"Ask away," Adelheid responded, her gaze fixed on her phone screen.
"How long have you served in the military?" Annette inquired, tapping her fingers on the table's surface.
"...70,936 hours," Adelheid answered cryptically, causing Annette's brows to furrow in confusion. She requested clarification, urging Adelheid to be more specific with dates.
"Ma'am, as an officer of equal rank, I'd appreciate a more precise timeframe," Annette said, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone.
"Fine... 8," Adelheid replied tersely.
"...8 years of service?" Annette sought confirmation.
"Yes."
"Wow... Just wow..." Annette couldn't hide her astonishment. As someone who had graduated from the Academy herself, she was surprised to find herself assigned to one of Hildenbourg's most heavily fortified bases. Such prestigious postings were typically reserved for personnel with higher ranks or longer service in the Hildenian Armed Forces.
Annette maintained her gaze on Adelheid, her curiosity still burning. Then, without warning, she posed a deeply personal question.
"So... How does it feel to get your hands stained by your enemy's blood?" Annette's tone dripped with sarcasm, unaware of how her question might be perceived.
Adelheid's reaction was immediate and visceral. Slamming her palm against the table, she surged to her feet, her anger palpable as she directed her voice toward Annette.
"Don't you dare ask me what it felt like to take a man's life!" Adelheid's glare could have scorched stone as she fixed her gaze on Annette, her body tense as if she were ready to pounce.
The loud slam of Adelheid's hand against the table reverberated through the establishment, drawing the attention of everyone present. Eyes turned toward her, some with curiosity, others with concern. Feeling the weight of their stares, Adelheid took a deep breath, visibly collecting herself before slowly resuming her seat, her demeanor now composed but the tension still palpable.
"Annette, come over here," Klaus beckoned Lieutenant Hosenfeld closer, his tone serious as he addressed the recent altercation. Annette complied, leaning in to hear Klaus's advice.
"Lieutenant, here's a piece of advice: never inquire about a soldier's first kill," Klaus cautioned, his voice low but firm. "Believe me, it won't end well." With a nod of understanding, Annette returned to her seat.
"Lieutenant, just let it slide. Don't dwell on that question," Klaus reassured her, his words aimed at calming the tension. Annette followed his advice, taking a deep breath and settling back into her chair.
"A fellow officer of equal caliber, yet lacking in the tact department." Adelheid mused silently to herself, making a mental note to avoid further confrontation with Annette.
"So, General, any updates on the ongoing conflicts?" Annette steered the conversation in a new direction. Klaus sighed before responding, "Unfortunately, truth seems to be a scarce commodity these days. What appears believable often isn't."
"What about the State Security Service? Can't they gather accurate information on the war?" Annette inquired further. Klaus shook his head, explaining, "Deploying agents, infiltrators, and private security forces into conflicted countries risks compromising our status as a neutral state. We can't afford to stretch our resources and manpower thin in a futile war." Annette nodded in understanding, acknowledging the delicate balance they needed to maintain.
"Now, let's steer away from war topics," Klaus interjected, feeling uneasy about delving further into the subject.
"Sure, what would you like to discuss?" Annette responded, eager to shift the conversation.
"It's up to you. What's on your mind?" Klaus countered, leaving the topic open-ended.
An idea sparked in Annette's mind as she pondered a suitable topic while they waited in line. "Well, General, perhaps you could share some stories from your days in the military," she suggested, leaning in with curiosity evident in her sparkling eyes. However, Adelheid, sensing Annette's familiarity with the General, grew wary of her gestures.
"...Back when I was enlisted...?" Klaus mused, reflecting on his past. "I don't mean to boast, but my fellow marines considered me a valuable asset—a man they were glad to have by their side," he recalled with a chuckle. Adelheid straightened up, intrigued to hear more.
"Wow, you must have been quite the force back then, and even now, I presume," Annette remarked, with a subtle hint of skepticism at the end of her sentence. Adelheid, dissatisfied with Annette's tone, began to interject, intending to lecture her on respecting superiors. However, Klaus intervened, urging Adelheid to remain calm and reassuring her that such interactions were commonplace in their setting.
"It may seem unorthodox to you, but here, we tend to "insult" each other the wrong way. Sometimes we even push boundaries and make things personal," Klaus explained with a smile and a chuckle. Adelheid, recalling Annette's earlier question that had struck a nerve, began to understand the dynamics at play in their interactions.
"Well, sir, it does seem rather unorthodox for high-ranking officials to be so chummy with those beneath them." she remarked.
"They tend to be more... enthusiastic and... perhaps a bit reckless, despite the dangers involved," Klaus replied, offering an explanation for their behavior. Adelheid nodded in understanding.
"Anyway, please continue with your story!" Annette urged, eager to hear more about Klaus's reputation. He nodded, clearing his throat before delving back into his narrative.
"I earned that moniker because of my skill as a sniper. I was known for taking out targets beyond the visual range of my scope, with a high chance of a headshot," he recounted, simplifying the details.
"I was even dubbed the 'Empress's Executioner' by my enemies," Klaus added, piquing Annette's curiosity about how he acquired such a nickname. "Ooh, do go on, sir! This is getting interesting!" she exclaimed with a sly smile, prompting Klaus to continue.
"...I'm not particularly proud of it, but..." Klaus hesitated, reluctant to delve into the details of such a reputation.
"It's alright, sir. You don't have to share if you're uncomfortable." Adelheid interjected, but Annette persisted, encouraging him to speak. "Come on, sir! It's just a story. It's not like it's going to hurt you or anything," she insisted, though Klaus remained stoic.
"Sir, perhaps we should change the topic to something unrelated to the military," Adelheid suggested, but Annette was undeterred. "You must be a blast at parties, ma'am," she retorted, further incensing Adelheid. "How insensitive can you be to such topics?" she snapped, fixing Annette with a stern gaze, though Annette remained unfazed.
Klaus noticed the escalating tension between the two officers and subtly expressed his disappointment by crossing his arms and pinching the bridge of his nose. Adelheid, noticing his reaction, sat up straight, while Annette glanced at her with a smug smirk, considering herself the victor in their exchange. Despite her frustration, Adelheid decided to let it go and move on.
He spoke in an eerie tone, asking, "In which section of the military academy taught you to engage in disputes and create disturbances in this ESTABLISHMENT?!" Annette and Adelheid fell into an abrupt silence as the General's voice crescendoed with the finality of his statement, causing both customers and restaurant staff to halt in their tracks, stunned by the sudden shift in atmosphere. With a weary sigh, the General collected himself, the tension in the air dissipating as quickly as it had arisen. "Carry on gentlemen... " Addressing the assembled crowd within the venue, enveloped in the soft, golden radiance cast by the LED lights and glass chandelier, the General's voice rang out. Despite his intervention, both customers and restaurant staff remained undeterred, carrying on with their respective tasks; staff diligently restocked the buffet table while patrons conversed in hushed tones, relishing their meals.
"So? No one's gonna speak up?" The General inquired once more with controlled frustration. "None sir. It wasn't taught in the academy..." Adelheid uttered slowly out of fear, clenching on her skirt to cope with the situation.
"If I caught you pissing off people again, I promise you, the last thing you'll ever gonna see is the end of an experimental warhead..." The General's finger jutted out, aimed squarely at Annette, his icy demeanor casting a pall of intimidation that left the inquisitive lieutenant frozen in place, a breath caught in her throat from sheer terror.
He pivots his head, still discontented by Adelheid's improper conduct within the venue, "Just because the military taught you to overwhelm your opponents with double the firepower does not mean it should be applied to peace times...". Adelheid nods to convey her acknowledgment, while Annette responds with a subtle inclination in agreement with his words.
In a poised demeanor, he maintained a profound silence, punctuated by the deliberate intake of breaths, a deliberate act to assuage the burgeoning frustration within him. "I expected Lieutenant Diegenhardt to be welcomed by the Fort... Yet a fuckwit like you decided to ruin her day. How welcoming of you, Annette...".
Annette turned her head toward the person seated beside her, expecting some form of acknowledgment, only to be met with an abrupt dismissal. "Don't look at me, you started it..." came the curt response. Klaus observed Annette's pleading gaze directed towards Sergeant Ferdinand, sensing her desire for support. "Different species with similar coping mechanisms." Klaus mused, a chuckle escaping him as he found amusement in her actions. "You do realize such coping mechanism is only reserved for humans... In which you heavily despised..." he added, his tone tinged with a hint of irony.
"Obviously, because they're weak and easily terrified by just a mere artillery fire." Annette retorted, her tone carrying a hint of frustration. The Sergeant nodded in acknowledgment. "She's out of line, but she's right." he conceded, recognizing the truth in her words despite the breach of protocol. Klaus chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You do not underestimate them, they're willing to fight to death even though the war is lost, even if that means crashing their planes on targets." he remarked, a note of respect in his voice for their unwavering determination.
Upon hearing Klaus's statement, Adelheid's attention shifted toward him, a look of concern etched across her features. "Sir, they do that?!" she asked incredulously, her voice tinged with disbelief and apprehension. "Out of desperation, yeah. Suicide attacks are as common as you might think, even terrorists have done it." Klaus replied to Adelheid, his demeanor unfazed as he delivered the sobering reality. "Yeah what a horrible will to do so..." Klaus added, his tone reflecting a somber acknowledgment of the grim reality.
"Lieutenant, with all due respect, but If I may ask... Why do you act shocked to how wars and gunfights are conducted? I'm sure you remember your first Operation..." Ferdinand inquired of Adelheid, a hint of confusion coloring his tone as he sought to understand her reaction. "Well, that was my first operation, unlike you three that has overseen multiple combat scenarios..." As she traced her fingers along the table's surface, memories of the operation she had participated in flooded her mind, each detail vividly recalled as if etched into the glass itself.
"I always thought that being in the military would be an adventure, however that moment I killed a man up close... Point blank aiming my rifle at his head... I didn't see the face of a monster where I was told by my drill instructor, but fear and terror in his eyes." Her voice carried the weight of the experience, tinged with a mixture of remorse and realization. Both the Sergeant and the General's expressions softened with a hint of remorse upon hearing her experience. However, Annette's countenance remained unchanged, her perspective on wars and gunfights resembling that of video games, where there are no respawns, and the consequences are all too real, viewing such as a challenge.
"...How insensitive can this woman get...?" Klaus mused silently to himself, observing Annette's lack of empathy in response to the Lieutenant's emotional revelation. Recognizing that attempting to address her insensitivity might only lead to further discord, he chose to let it slide, opting to maintain the peace for the time being.
The recollection of her past experience left her feeling unsettled, her appetite waning in the presence of the General. The weight of the memories lingered heavily in her mind, casting a pall over the prospect of sharing a meal with him. "Sir, I apologize but I have to go outside..." she announced, rising to her feet, her demeanor shaky. Klaus quickly stood up and offered his assistance. "The code for the SUV is 70-93. Take some alone time in there..." he advised, his tone gentle and understanding. Adelheid nodded in acknowledgment, grateful for Klaus's support as he held her arm, aiding her in regaining her balance as she stood up.
Unable to bear the thought of witnessing Adelheid struggle with her balance as she exited the premises, Klaus offered his assistance. However, she politely declined his offer. Suddenly, her hand jerked, seizing the glass surface of the table. With a surprising display of strength, her grip tightened until the tempered glass began to shatter beneath her fingers. Klaus's eyes widened in horror at the unexpected and powerful display of strength from someone like her, a sight he had never witnessed nor anticipated. "Lieutenant, LIEUTENANT!! STOP!!" Klaus exclaimed urgently, reaching out to grab her wrist in an attempt to loosen her grip on the glass. Despite his efforts, he found himself unable to pry her hand away from the table. Sensing the urgency of the situation, Ferdinand swiftly joined in, grasping her hand in an attempt to free it from the table's surface. However, despite their combined efforts and their larger forearms, they were unable to break her vice-like grip.
"...What kind of grip is this?!" As Klaus struggled to comprehend the sudden turn of events, he felt Adelheid's powerful strength emanating from her tense movement, sending a shiver down his spine.
In a terrifying moment, she released her grip from the table, her hands transforming into claws poised for attack. Klaus's instincts screamed danger, but before he could react, she seized his face from behind, her grip tightening with excruciating force. Agony surged through him as he felt his flesh squeezed between her vice-like grip and his skull. With a swift and merciless motion, she slammed his head against the sharp corner of the table, shattering the tempered glass and drenching it in his own blood.
Ferdinand, witnessing the horrifying scene unfolding before him, moved to intervene. However, as he positioned himself in front of Adelheid, she seized his throat with her other hand, her grip crushing his windpipe with terrifying strength. Desperation flooded Ferdinand as he grasped her arm with both hands, struggling to break free from her relentless hold. As she pulled him closer, he stared into her eyes and felt a chilling dread wash over him, as if confronting a soulless entity consumed by a desire to kill.
In a swift and brutal onslaught, Adelheid slammed Ferdinand's head against the wall with such force that the surface cracked open, blood staining the fractured plaster behind him. With a final, merciless blow, she slammed his head onto the table where Annette sat, the impact echoing throughout the premises as the scene descended into chaos. As multiple soldiers within the restaurant turned their heads to witness Adelheid's brutal actions, a sense of shock and disbelief rippled through the room. Suddenly, Adelheid's gaze shifted towards Annette, her intentions clear. With quick decision-making, Annette sprang into action, delivering a swift kick to Adelheid's torso, forcefully pushing her back and creating a momentary reprieve from the chaos unfolding before them. Annette, propelled by instinctive self-preservation, lunged forward to fend off Adelheid's relentless assault. Meanwhile, a handful of soldiers, recognizing the imminent danger posed by Adelheid's unchecked rampage, swiftly jumped into action. Their primary objective: to restrain her and prevent any further escalation that could result in catastrophic damage to both property and lives.
"GET THE GENERAL OUT OF HERE!!!" Annette screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice cutting through the chaos. With urgency fueling their movements, Sergeant Hühnerbein and other personnel from the premises quickly rushed to the aid of the unconscious General, swiftly carrying him away to safety.
Before Annette could finish her sentence, Adelheid's rage erupted once more. With a sudden and violent motion, she hurled the table towards Annette and charged forward, her intent clear. Annette braced herself as Adelheid's force propelled her towards the solid steel pillar, the impact reverberating through her body as the confrontation escalated to a terrifying climax.
"Control, this is 7-Richter, we have a situation. DSR33 is non-responsive, please advise... OVER...!" the soldier urgently transmitted over his communication device, his voice tense with apprehension.
As the chaos unfolded, Annette was propelled towards the other personnel with terrifying force. When they rolled her over, horror gripped them as they beheld her disfigured face, her jaw ripped open and blood pooling on the floor.
"Control, you better get here quick or this place is gonna be a fucking bloodbath..." the soldier relayed, his voice filled with urgency and dread as he awaited assistance in the face of escalating violence.
In a swift and coordinated effort, one of the personnel kicked the table over to pin Adelheid down, while another drew their pistol and aimed it at Adelheid. However, her reflexes were quick, and she responded by kicking a nearby chair towards the soldier, causing her to miss her shot as the furniture impacted her left leg. Despite the pain, the soldier remained resolute, continuing to aim her gun towards Adelheid.
In a desperate bid for protection, Adelheid seized the opportunity and raised the large, heavy table, using it as a shield to defend herself against the imminent threat. The room descended into a tense standoff as the confrontation between the two escalated, each side determined to gain the upper hand in the chaos.
Amidst the chaos, the soldier fired three shots in quick succession, aiming towards Adelheid. However, realizing the futility of harming her behind the thick wooden table, the bullets failed to penetrate the sturdy material. Seizing the opportunity, Adelheid closed in, her intention clear as she reached for the soldier's pistol in an attempt to disarm and potentially execute her.
Just as Adelheid's grasp tightened around the pistol, another personnel sprang into action, drawing their service rifle and unleashing three bursts of gunfire towards Adelheid. The rapid succession of shots provided enough cover and distraction for the soldier in her grasp to break free from Adelheid's hold, averting a potential tragedy in the nick of time.
As Adelheid regained her composure, she turned to face the soldier who had fired three bursts at her. To the shock and disbelief of the restaurant workers and the customers, her features revealed a startling truth: beneath her seemingly human exterior lay a metal skull, exposing her true nature and sending a chill of fear through the room.
"Shit..." the soldier muttered in shock, lowering his rifle as he beheld the sight of Adelheid's metal skull, the red LED optical eyes beneath sending shivers down his spine. Recognizing the efficiency with which she had dispatched even special forces operatives, he resigned himself to his fate, knowing that he stood little chance against such a formidable adversary.
As the chaos unfolded within the restaurant, a convoy of trucks, medivac units, and battle tanks thundered down the highway at full speed, their arrival mere minutes away from the officers' location. With the urgency of the situation pressing upon them, the officers issued their orders to the arriving reinforcements.
"Gentlemen, your orders are to disable DSR33 and preserve its organic components at all costs," one officer commanded over the radio, his voice tense with urgency. "If all else fails,120mm sabot is authorized for use."
The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air as the convoy raced towards the scene, prepared to confront the formidable threat posed by DSR33 and take whatever action necessary to neutralize it.
"Watch your asses boys, that woman won't be holding back. Don't let her get in within your 6 meter perimeter!"
"Yes sir!" the troops responded in unison to their team leader's command. With practiced efficiency, they checked their magazines, ensuring they were loaded with specialized projectiles designed to neutralize DSR33. With a firm hand, they cocked their bolts back and chambered a round in their guns, preparing themselves for the imminent confrontation.
Concurrently, the restaurant had become a scene of chaos, with unconscious and critically injured soldiers sprawled across the floor, their blood forming dark pools beneath Adelheid's feet. Klaus and Sergeant Hühnerbein stood amidst the devastation, their expressions reflecting a mixture of helplessness and disbelief.
"Sir... Is backup incoming...?" Sergeant Hühnerbein inquired, his voice betraying a sense of urgency.
The General's response was solemn. "They better arrive with a substantial contingency plan... even perhaps a hundred spine boards..." he remarked, his words underscoring the gravity of the situation as they awaited the arrival of reinforcements.
A slow, labored breathing echoed through the torn restaurant as Adelheid's gaze shifted towards the lone survivor. With deliberate movements, she slowly knelt down, her eyes fixed on the service pistol discarded by one of the fallen soldiers. As she approached the survivor, her hand reached out, fingers curling around the cold metal of the firearm. With a calculated precision, she aimed the gun at the person's head, ready to deliver the final blow.
However, her actions were met with a surprising response—a slight chuckle emanating from the survivor. "So this is what they felt when we replaced them, huh?" the survivor remarked, their voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and bitter irony. "Flesh over a metal endoskeleton, efficiency on hand to hand combat, cold, soulless... Merciless.." the man concluded, his words carrying a weight of somber realization and acceptance of the changing times.
As the survivor's words sank in, Adelheid felt a tremor coursing through her hand, her grip on the pistol faltering. Suddenly, her organic conscience began to assert itself, breaking through the cold facade she had cultivated. The scene before her, the person covered in blood, triggered memories of the traumatizing operation she had endured.
In that moment of clarity, she released her grip on the gun, allowing it to clatter to the ground. With slow, unsteady steps, she began to retreat, her movements faltering as she stepped backward into the pool of blood beneath her. Each crimson stain served as a stark reminder of the horrors she had witnessed and the toll they had taken on her psyche.
She turned to face Klaus, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of sorrow and regret. Before she could utter a word, a sudden, deafening bang pierced through the air, tearing through Adelheid's chest and damaging one of her fuel cell microreactors. With a gasp of pain, she dropped to her knees, her systems beginning to shut down one by one.
Despite the overwhelming agony coursing through her, Adelheid's face bore an expression of disappointment, her eyes fixed on Klaus with a silent plea for understanding. In that fleeting moment, she longed to apologize for the destruction wrought by her actions, to convey the remorse that weighed heavy upon her artificial conscience.
"Hell yeah!!!" With a mixture of celebration and underlying anger, he hurled a piece of wood at Adelheid's lifeless body, his laughter tinged with bitterness. "Deserved, you fuckwit!" he spat out, his emotions still raw.
Meanwhile, Klaus stood nearby, his gaze fixed on Adelheid's motionless form. A pang of remorse washed over him as he contemplated the events that had unfolded. "A simple anxiety attack caused this...?" he mused aloud, his voice tinged with regret. "All this could have been prevented if I had recognized the signs..." His words hung heavy in the air, a sobering realization of the consequences of his oversight.
As Klaus reflected on Adelheid's interactions with him—her teasing, moments of shyness, and occasional questioning—he began to see them in a new light. It dawned on him that these behaviors were not merely quirks of her personality but desperate attempts to suppress the lingering anxiety that plagued her. Each teasing remark, every shy smile, and all her probing questions were a facade, a means of deflecting attention from the turmoil brewing within her.
In that moment of clarity, Klaus realized that he had failed to see the signs, to recognize the depth of Adelheid's internal struggle. Her attempts to mask her anxiety had gone unnoticed, overshadowed by the chaos of their surroundings. The weight of his oversight settled heavily upon him as he grappled with the realization of what could have been done differently.
"Target neutralized! Move! Move!" The arrival of backup was signaled by the thundering footsteps of five heavily armored men, their imposing figures advancing towards Adelheid's inert mechanical form. Meanwhile, the remaining personnel scanned the devastated surroundings, their vigilant gaze searching for any signs of life amidst the wreckage. Only three individuals out of the previous 167 occupants remained, among them are Klaus and Sergeant Hühnerbein. Klaus stood up from the debris-strewn floor, clutching the cloth that covered his wounded nose bridge and forehead, his expression a mix of pain and determination.
As the leader of the troop approached Klaus, the urgency in his voice was palpable as he sought answers from the commander of the Special Action Force unit. "Sergeant, I need answers, and I need them now," Klaus demanded, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation. In response, the commander stepped forward, his demeanor grave as he prepared to shed light on the unfolding chaos. "Sir, I must inform you that the woman in question is still in the prototype phase... the DSR33 model may have experienced a malfunction. This is not the first instance of such an occurrence, sir... it has happened on multiple occasions during testing," he explained, his words laden with the weight of responsibility and concern. Learning about Adelheid's physical composition and the endoskeleton beneath her exterior, he began to question whether there were certain project developments concealed from him by the palace. Of all the weapon projects he had overseen, this was the moment he felt a sense of caution settle in.
Surveying the scene, littered with the sprawled forms of fallen comrades, he released a heavy sigh, the weight of impending paperwork settling upon his shoulders like a burden too heavy to bear.