Girls' Frontline Fanfiction: Tsar of the Mountain

A Bloody Respite

"..." Maxim silently sat in his car which was parked in the parking lot of his apartment building. He needed a moment to collect himself even though it was hours later and the sun was down. Persica gave him an ear full and threatened to fire him because of what he did. But, what weighed the most on his mind was that commander. The Neural Upgrade was one thing, but revealing he used his old military designs pushed Persica over the edge. "...If he wasn't there," Maxim spoke to no one as he bitterly got out of his car. It was turning into a chilly night, so he was keen on getting inside quickly and having this day end. As he approached the entrance, however, some movement caught his eye near the alley that looped around his building. Glancing over, Maxim saw a figure in a winter camouflaged coat with their hood pulled up move into the alley. Their clothing and build had a striking resemblance to... "A-545?" What was she doing here? He thought that commander took her. His curiosity got the better of him and he rushed to the alley. There was a light pole nearby for the parking lot, but its light didn't extend into the alley that much which kept the area shrouded in shadow. "...?" She was nowhere to be seen. He was certain he saw her. Deciding to take a quick look, Maxim took out his phone to use as a flashlight and walked into the alley. It smelled terrible due to the dumpsters, so he wouldn't stay long. He'd give a shout then call it quits. Even if it was A-545, they were probably doing something for their commander. And, if it wasn't, then he'd head straight to bed because he didn't like it when he started seeing things. "Aish-!" Maxim started to give a call, but found his voice cut off as the back of his head was impaled by an ice axe.

"..." A-545 yanked the ice axe out of Maxim's head and watched his body fall to the ground. The light from Maxim's dropped phone was shining up which let A-545 get a good look at the blood and brain matter that now stained the ice axe. "..." She had just killed her creator. The one who built her from scratch and gave her life... A life knowing no matter how much she improved she would only make it worse. The more improvements he made to her the more her cost increased. The more her cost increased the less likely she would've been chosen. He gave her the life of a prototype who was destined to fail. He even discarded her when he saw she couldn't do it only to backpedal when Zeldri showed interest in her. Hearing his attempt to call out to her using 'Aisha' caused her hands to tremble. "But... It's fine, now..." Yes, it was fine now. It was just like Zeldri had said when he sent her here: the moment would pass like any other. She did not need to feel for the corpse at her feet, nor lament taking a human life despite her purpose being to protect humanity. She had her Commander. Her commander who acknowledged her abilities. Her commander who gave praise and warmth. Her commander who does not care how much she costs. Her commander who would never discard her. Her commander she would do anything for. "...?" The sound of a vehicle brought A-545 out of her thoughts and she looked over to see a van reversing into the alley.

***

"And, that's what happened." A male voice came over the cell phone.

"I see." Zeldri was walking through a park on his way back to his hotel. He'd told A-545 to meet him back there when she was done, but to think it was already over? He'd have to finish his walk early. "Thanks for handling the cleanup, Daniil."

"Not a problem. To think we let someone like this slip through the cracks?" Daniil was an old friend of his dad's from the FSB Zeldri often saw around the holidays. He heard Daniil drop something heavy into his van over the phone. "You sure we don't need to clean this up any further?"

"Positive, his ego was huge so I doubt he'd share his secrets with anyone." While Zeldri didn't know if that was true, he figured one dead body was enough. Any more than this and he might burn a bridge with Persica; at least one body can be reasonably covered up. "..." He was thinking more and more like his dad as this day went on, it seemed.