Nikke: Godess of Victory {Lose Yourself}

Chapter 2- You Are Dead.

"Your exo is up and ready!" Centi exclaims, saluting me as I enter the workshop she's always holed up in. I rarely see her shopping with other Nikkes and she's always got a grease stain somewhere on her face from wiping sweat caused by the welders. "Let's get you suited up!"

My exo isn't anything more than a few stabilizing units that line my limbs and spine, along with a battery pack attached to the back, which usually holds a charge rather well, but can be drained rather quickly, too.

So, that being said, getting the equipment on is an easy feat. Though it still requires some machinery to help speed up the process, it's not as bad as the MJLNIOR suits that we have stored away for emergency nuclear warfare. But, we don't have access to nukes or missiles for that matter, so the MJLNIOR suits haven't been used a single time.

Once I'm strapped into my suit, I grab the photon sword I'd had custom made from it's hook by Centi's tool shelf and hook it to my hip. It's not my primary weapon, otherwise I'd be useless, but it's handy to have just in case something of an emergency happens and my guns run out of kinetic ammo. The blade, if used fast enough, is able to deflect bullets, and by deflect, I mean completely incinerate them. 

Centi gives me a broad smile and holds out my preferred gun to me. While most of our troops, especially Nikkes, use more advanced versions of guns, like Epinel's Razorback SMG, I used a simpler weapon from my era before the Rapture attack. The good old, trust worthy MA25B Assault Rifle.

It holds 36 rounds in a clip and is completely automatic. A handy weapon if I do say so myself. To add on top of it, my Nikke implants make it so it's possible to have no recoil on it.

I thank Centi and begin my way to the elevator which was stationed just a few blocks over. Centi's workshop was located within the Military section of the Ark, so I had no problems with civilians gawking at me in my exo-skeleton. Instead, I had to nod politely to the mass produced Nikkes such as the iDoll Ocean.

Where as Nikke's like Epinel, Delta, Anne, and Rapi, and others were unique- to one running model- the others weren't any different from each other unless they were the same model. You could have a heart felt conversation with an iDoll model, and see the same model the next day and mistake them for the same one, but it wouldn't be.

Nikkes like Rapi and Epinel were made more consciously than iDolls. They have more feelings and decision making skills. For example, Noah. She's gone through a tremendous amount of pain and suffering, but her programming convinced her she lives in a world of fakes to avoid getting attached to someone that might die suddenly.

Admi's programming makes her seem like an 18 year old girl who has an obsession with cats.

Epinel, a skater girl.

And so on.

iDolls don't have that kind of programming. They take orders without question, living by do or die. Which, even if you wanted to, makes it difficult to have a conversation with one. At one point, I'd attempted to strike up a conversation with one of the iDoll Nikkes, and she'd simply saluted me. "No conversing on the job, sir!" She exclaimed before continuing on her patrol route.

At this point in time, there was no reason, or time, to stop and talk, even if I could. Funny enough, I didn't see any other Nikkes except for mass produced ones.

By the time I reach the elevator, everyone else is waiting on me. Sugar is leaning against her motorcycle, Black Typhoon, and Delta is scolding Noah on military mannerism.

"How long have you been waiting for?" I ask, making sure my magnetic holster was on before attaching my AR to it on my back.

"Not barely five minutes." Sugar says, hefting her shotgun up to her shoulder before wheeling her bike to the side of the elevator.