InsaneJournal

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[ you. what are you doing here? ]

Hiding, like you. [ except— wait. no. this isn't right. this was familiar, almost tangible as if it were a collection of memory engrams locked away behind a series of unbreakable, undetectable algorithms that had begun to break free of their restraints. she knew this place, but it wasn't right. this— was not right at all. she didn't belong here. it wasn't her fault. that which she stood accused of wasn't her fault. an individual should not have to answer for the collective's wrongdoings.

she went away, like some do — she understood that much. or maybe she was still on the equinox. perhaps she was hallucinating. firm, unwavering in her stance, she'd been willing to perish instead of becoming what ransom and his crew had become. she wanted no part in any of it. she resisted. but he was trying to force her hand, made the doctor—

standing up, only dimly aware of the headset, of the feed, seven draws her hand across her temple and the metallic, ocular implant that's a stark contrast against pale skin and loose, bright blonde hair. she's intact, and an awkward, uncharacteristic clearing of her throat tells her that her auditory processor is operating under normal parameters. her voice is her own, controlled by her own will and not that of a hologram devoid of ethical subroutines.

only then, when she's certain that speaking will produce words and not song, does she address the dome directly. ]

My designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01. I will not comply.