018

Three hours later, the door slammed open and in came Daphne and Jeremiah. They were holding two stags. One of them, killed cleanly, the other was bleeding in every limbs and body, cut, but not fully cut.

"That's terrible!" Neil approached the bleeding stag, touching it to check its pulse, "What kind of monster are you, Daphne?" He pleaded upon the dying Stag.

"Pfft," Daphne just ignores the man as she carries the dead Stag over the kitchen. "I'll go around to cutting this, Twain'll cook 'em." She says.

Neil just sits on his knees, crouching down upon the bloodstains of the Stag. I'm worried about him, of course. Then again, I don't know of his history with Stags, nor animals to be like that.

Everyone else just ignores it. Haya and Cassandra are hard at work downloading and printing each of the Headquarter's schematics while Twain is outside preparing the Stags to be eaten.

I stood up, trying to approach him, when Haya glanced over, saying, "It's better if you don't bother. That guy won't be able to let go of his grief."

"Oh… I see." And so, I left him alone. Going back to the bed as I see him visibly crying and sobbing. Twain went back inside, stepping over the crying Neil as he sat down on the bed beside me.

A large meat cleaver went down the Stag's neck as its blood splashed around Daphne and her clothes, "Perhaps It would be alright to remind you about Cypress's Stag."

"His what?"

"It's uhhh.. A pet, I suppose. It was unique in that it was one of the only animals to be actively reproduced through Ambrosia. It stretched the capabilities of the thing."

"Huh, didn't know It could create animal bodies."

"Well, not really. You could calibrate it to create individual parts, then you'll just have to stitch it together. It's archaic but it works."

"I see… wait, what about the stag's memories. The consciousness of animals doesn't exist in the noosphere as well, does it?"

"It does, apparently. I heard that they're still doing research on what the Noosphere considers as consciousness. But it certainly is one of them."

"So he just kept taking and remaking his stag yeah?"

"Yeah. Apparently he had it since he was a child, grew up with it and all that. Then, during the war…"

"Huh?"

"It was a guerrilla campaign led by you. Trying to take back the Vega system by infiltrating the Machine's reproduction facilities." I felt my mind shake as a large migraine grew on me. Memories from the war, the charges we lead, the battles we fought. The machines we've destroyed, everything flashing in and out of my memories, yet I can't discern it.

"S-shit."

Twain seems to have noticed as he looked over to me and rushed to his fridge and handed me a glass of water. I saw Haya rushing over towards me as I grabbed the glass of water and drank it. Its cold liquid visage flowing deeply into my throat as it cools the rest of my body.

"Are you okay, partner?"

"Seems that the erasure and modification of his memories is not that well done. Fragments of memories still remain and are straining his brain to remember it all."

"Tch." Haya clicked her tongue, "Can you get him to rest up first?"

"Alright." He laid me down on the bed as I felt dizzier and dizzier until I fell back into a deep sleep.

I had no dreams that day, I don't even remember that I fell into a deep sleep. It all felt like I just closed my eyes and I woke up in the evening with the others eating the hunt from earlier.

Except for Neil. I suppose, as he just sat there eating a soup made by Twain. Perhaps to avoid eating the stag. I stood up, grasping my head. Haya quickly noticed and rushed over to me, "Yo, partner, you good?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm good." I told her as she assisted me over the table. The stag was cooked well, though following all the dishes made from it. There's one I can't really discern. Almost as if it's too blurry to see, yet everything around it is crystal clear.

I just shrugged it off as I took part in the feast. My eyes glossed over the other's plates, checking the portions that they've eaten. Haya and Daphne seem to have eaten quite a huge part of it. Though checking Daphne, she seems to be struggling. While Haya herself seems to just be really hungry.

Cassandra on the other hand, only took a small portion as she finished, drank some water, and headed back to her little computer-filled corner.

Neil and Twain ate exquisitely, though Twain seems to be eating less, turning his eyes away from the stag and everything else other than his soup.

I reached for an untouched portion with my fork, as it got blocked on two fronts, by Haya and Daphne. They glared at me, and at each other.

"I've not eaten." I told them.

"First come, first serve." Haya says.

"By that logic, It's mine. I hunted it." Daphne belts out.

The tension heightened as the weight upon our utensils grew. A tension, broken with a single kick.