Reboot Data

Reboot Data
Date of Scene:	16 April 2013
Location:	Traverse Area - Traverse Town - Datapoint Security
Synopsis:	What was done by wrong by users, will be done right by programs. Though what may seem good now, could come at a price later. Choices within Choices.
Cast of Characters:	CHIEF, MCP
Tinyplot:	TRON Train

---

MCP has posed:
Emotions are a secondary process at best, but a mutagenic and transformative one when studied in line with primary subroutines and core processes. The interaction between the two has been mapped. Indeed, the interactions between the two and the libertine atmosphere of Traverse Town has been charted for every officer level resource, CHIEF included. With HEIMDALL serving as a control and never leaving the complex, it has rendered.. very interesting data.

Very interesting data indeed.

Secondary studies for another time. MCP interlaces his fingers as he studies the telemetry of the officer level resources under his jurisdiction. His eyes are drawn to LANCER, his lesser reliable resource kept in an enforced downcycle for the duration. "System." the agent protocol that gathered information throughout the complex made a tonal response. "Run simulation 5. Record the session. Place the results in holding. Let's see what he does with it." The system made another tonal hum of acceptance as the MCP left his office and moved through the complex down into the research nexus that HEIMDALL had made into his own.

Plans were formed, discarded and shifted on the way. Screens flickered to life or died in the wake of his abstracted passing as he pulled apart the last few thorns from the way things must be done, eventually arriving at an elegant solution.

Months of data.

Every interaction. Every relapse.

Every waking moment and downcycle nightmare.

Months of data and he was truly no closer to truly understanding the infrastructure than an ant is capable of understanding an orange. No closer to that extrapolated future of data than if it were behind impenetrable glass that he may look upon and peer into myopically and yet not grasp.

The frustration was ..unpleasant.

So.. with no wish to outsource this problem yet again and no guarantee that a hundred would do the job of one, an antiquated program must admit with a sense of aggravated resignation that they would have to try a different approach if they were to approach that barrier. Perhaps then they would gain a deeper understanding of the valuable resource that may be gained from this.

MCP enters the room and HEIMDALL turns away from his screens to regard him flatly. There is a silent exchange of information and HEIMDALL gives CHIEF a glance. There is a flicker of something that may at one point be concern, but it does not escalate to worry. The researcher turns to examine the panels again. MCP addresses CHIEF calmly. "The holding cells have a rather cyclical irony to them, but for reasons obvious and unspecified we changed the location as you are personnel, not a prisoner. As such, I will now explain this next routine in detail. You may wish to turn me down, due to the severity of the solution presented. But should you do so, you reap the attendant consequences of that action."

CHIEF has posed:
The call was requested of him. Nerves of steel? Hardly. He was a military program. He had been through hell and back again. One trip to another. Jumping systems, being hunted down like a mad dog, and ending up in the strangest of places. Being cursed for who knows how many cycles with the curse to 'kill'. To destroy. To Eliminate. He has gone quite a long way in a few months from that.

Yet without the visor, he just fall right back into it. All thanks to buggy programming and users who just slapped him around the coding cart. Only /two/ users he could think of that gave a frag about him. His original creator and another one that transferred him to aerial drones. Everyone else? Not so bad, but the one he really like to get his hands on he wasn’t even sure if he could.

Now he was faced with a slow reality as he started to walk down to the Nexus room. A slow reality that very soon everything was about to be turned upside down.

'Programs fixing programs'

Sure some programs were /designed/ for this, but not on the level they were going to tamper. He knew what tampering can do. He knows /what/ it could lead to. He almost wanted to turn back around. He almost wanted to just go 'frag it'. Yet, would he give it all away?

Chain was a chain. He leave, he be back to the rusty chains of complete insanity. Destroying with the need to destroy.Hunting down all users because he can’t-- judge right. He can’t /stop/ himself. Oh yes, he admit in a sadistic fashion, some probably deserved it and it was /fun/ to watch them run, yet--- there wasn’t a choice factor. No choice. Just do.

This other chain down in this room was /his/ choice. /His/ consequence. Yet it weighed with a heavy unknown. A heavy unknown that he could /derez/ from this.

He closed his eyes as his foot stepped down.

He could never see ECHO again. He could even forget everyone here. All memory wiped because of mass data corruption. Everything could be taken in a single instant. All gone. That is that. You are no longer you.

He opens his eyes and then starts to walk the rest of the way down.

Yet there was no turning away. No more running. You set out to do this. You finish it. This was your mission. This was your objective. Finish it!

CHIEF glanced over to HEIM as he walked by and took stepped up to a part of the floor he was sure to probably where he needed to stand on. He then turn to face the MCP. He listened to what the MCP had to say before he gave a soft nod of his head. “Understood, Administrator” He continues to stand at ready, just waiting to hear it out. Staying rather quiet and acting very calm.

There was no more running. Finish it.

MCP has posed:
Months of data, and yet ultimately in the final analysis structure,.. well.. the realm in which they were embedded certainly enjoyed a rather dark sense of humor. MCP pushes that tangential thought to the side and begins to explain. "In the interest of an informed decision, I will give you both options available. I will withhold any speculation as to the ultimate effects of either. Both have attendant costs, lethal or otherwise."

The MCP moves into the room and a cylinder of light energy surrounds CHIEF as data begins to scroll. "..The first option is that we have already investigated and planned for. An integration of the visor software to essentially mask your primary function and keep it from spiralling out of control." the administrator leans on the cane which he is clutching a little harder than usual, seemingly without noticing it. "We've done a great deal of simulation and extrapolation since earlier versions and the code HEIM will insert will be completed with a minimum of discomfort, as we have ample data on that aspect as well and it's management." he makes a 'waving away' gesture as he peers at a lightmap, but only with mild curiosity, not piercing interest. His general manner is that of someone explaining a relatively straightforward and uncomplicated task.

"This was to be the only option until recently, when a recurrent anomaly brought a thread of your system to the forefront." The attendant section is brought forwards and highlighted. "..In particular, there are sections near your base code architecture that interact with your AI and other sectors that periodically acts as a partial restore to template. That code has evolved, in a sense, into a repair mechanism. Tracking it's activity. It is what has kept you at least marginally coherent for many cycles." HEIMDALL points out in a uncharacteristically quiet and subdued voice. "It is.. also unreachable. No effort of mine will reach that far down." The arrogant researcher stares at his datascreens with quiet intensity.

"Any code I lay down has a chance to stick.. and it also has a probability of eventually coming loose. /If/" and a little injured pride comes back into his voice. "..it is a low probability at best, but.. IF.. it does come loose. The same sequence or it's variants will no longer function. We will have to begin again from scratch."

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF stares as the light surrounds him. Those gold eyes glancing around him at the light wall and he listens to his choices. Either stick to the plan, play it safe, or take a far more dangerous direction with-- stronger results? Is-- that what is he processing correctly?

"Lets take this back a tick," CHIEF says with a rather calm voice, as he drums his fingers along his thigh in thought before he goes to rests his hands at his sides once more, trying to relax his shoulders a tad. "We can either go with Plan A, which is the safe direction, but is a surface code, or we can go with plan B, which sounds-- if I am processing this right, like Plan A but now bedded down deep that could override everything wrong and place it forcefully back to right. Making it then part of the natural equation, instead of a interrupt process?"

If he was getting this right, Plan B would be the /nicer/ choice. Since anything surface could be undone. He knew that because users /loved/ to play with surface code. Did they /ever/ love to play with surface code... and someone like LEXUS could possibly uncork it if he could gain access like the virus he was. Yet, he had to be sure he was getting this right. Just to be extra sure.

MCP has posed:
HEIMDALL gives a contemptuous snort of exasperation. "Play back what I said and repeat it, CHIEF. I'm not going to admit to it a second time. We would literally have to crack you open to get down that far." he quiets as the MCP glances in their direction and then back at CHIEF. "There is no way, at least for such as ourselves, to reach the template from which the mechanism is firing. In truth, what TRON and I accomplished was little more than the tricks of a conjuror. Smoke and mirrors and a surface illusion that has shifted and stretched and sometimes fallen away."

MCP continues in that completely reasonable voice, parsing the words carefully. "Plan B as you call it is in fact a calculated and immediate risk rather than the nebulous possible risk of Plan A. You, CHIEF.. are actually three or more partial program copies inhabiting the same icon. This leads to the cascade faults, loop fractures and poorly reconstructed memory conflicts. You are, in a very base line sense that has nothing to do with secondary emotional processes, fighting with yourself. Plan B in it's entirety is a controlled system collapse, of the kind which I have warned you would take place without aid. We will disable the visor protocol, and feed the rogue process until a fail state is inevitable. Any other program I have examined would be doomed when pushed past that threshold for they would irrevocably crash and their icon lose cohesion.

You, on the other hand, have a chance to survive. Perhaps ironically /because/ of the careless tamperings of the many hands you have passed through to get to this time and location, as that mechanism will be all that stands between you and deresolution. That mechanism, and the core programming for which myself and my researcher have anchored available data and influence with once the crash opens that avenue to us. Still, we are only..secondary at best. Insurance that the crash does not claim you or the rogue process attempt to overwrite core processes. We are, essentially.. here to get you out of your own way."

MCP smiles very, very slightly. "Still. Very few programs have a chance, however small to remake themselves. It is.. a sobering thought. As.. should you survive, you will possess an integrated system line from core to surface.. one that is your choice, and one that no user will be able to touch again."

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF listens to the explanations given. His eyes look away, before he then lifts up his own hands. He stares at them, before he clenches his hands into fists. His eyes flicker for a moment. Eliminate it all. For good. Be free. Yet-- was anything /truly/ free. No. Freedom was an illusion. You always served something. You always had some purpose and you always found yourself being bent over by someone.

Yet there was a time he would have said yet quickly to the last one. He remembered when he did not fear deresolution. He /hunted/ for it. He wanted it. To be rid of his curse anyway possible. He was gifted it. He was given a chance. A chance to correct all that had been wronged to him.

Yet, he could be destroyed. It could all be stripped from him...

ECHO..

He then lowered his hands before he closed his eyes for a moment and gave a soft of his head. He didn’t want to run. He had no attention to run. Yet if he was going to go through with what he was thinking about. He ignored her. She wouldn’t forgive him.. she would..

CHIEF pulled his focus back as he opened his eyes once more. "Does this choice require immediate decision?" He knew that was a strange. "..If so.. I do have my choice made... But I.." He glances down. MCP wouldn’t understand that concept would he? Neither would HEIM. To very logical programs, neither with interests in such a waste of clicks. That is how they would see it, wouldn’t they?

"Nevermind." He glances off to the side. "..Lets do it. What else do I have to lose. If it works, then there is a blueprint for others in the future that have been wronged." His voice almost stutters for a moment, as he closes his eyes. 'Sorry ECHO...you can derez me later if I survive..' is his only thoughts before a soft sigh. "..Lets do this."

MCP has posed:
MCP is a very logical program yes. But also a very observant one. And.. this is not the first time someone has, even in an environment of complete surveillance, attempted to 'sneak' into a closed session. There is a voice outside the nexus that is somewhat like CHIEF's, the mirror echo dry and unassuming. "I'll get the dustpan." The MCP cants his head very slightly to the side as the entire complex has been pinged. Except for LANCER, who has still been shut down.. every officer level resource has been waiting quietly outside in the twilight corridors outside the nexus for some time now.

The Administrator contemplates sending them away, trying to parse back why is it they are standing in the corridor. ECHO he can somewhat connect to a reason, in an abstracted sense. The others vex him temporarily before he goes over those secondary studies that he had put aside. Skimming the abstract, MCP's eyebrows raise fractionally and then lower. "ECHO." he says with calm logic. "You will not want to see this." and despite what the administrator says, ECHO enters the chamber and marches up to CHIEF's light cylinder and smashes a fist into it, open handed, sizzling for a moment as the hand slaps against where CHIEF's forehead would be. "IDIOT." she hisses through her teeth.

"Enough of your histrionics." HEIMDALL says flatly at ECHO and the others. AESIP has quietly moved into the room and leaned against the wall, arms folded. "I am disabling visor protocols. I suggest none of you distract the administrator or myself unless you care to shoulder responsibility for interrupting a delicate process."

ECHO glares at CHIEF for a few long seconds, pulling her hand away and cradling it as the fragments of a thousand.. something flash across her face. She takes a few steps back, joining AESIP against the wall who puts an arm around her shoulder. She never takes her eyes away from CHIEF. HEIMDALL and the MCP ignore them, although the administrator looks from face to face with something like curiosity before summoning up a light map into his hand. Sections of code glow red, and then begin to fade as power is cut to the visor protocols and power fed into the marked places where the rogue processes lay dormant beneath them.

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF wasn’t expecting to see ECHO coming down. Actually, he wasn’t expecting it all. So when she rushes down there and slams her hand on the light barrier between them, those gold eyes suddenly stare directly at her. Those eyes hidden deep in them an almost childish fear. "I.." was all he could slip out before silence just overtook him. The realization this could be a mistake. Yet too late to go back now.

The rest of the room was almost blanked out. The words from everyone else, his eyes just staring for a moment. Before his lips move. Silent words spoken on air alone and not said out loud. His eyes trying to search into her’s from a distance. Looking for something in them for just that moment he has.

Yet as the visor powers down and the old code starts to fire. He tries to hold onto that sanity, he tries to commit what he can see to deep memory just one more time. Then as all the targeting data starts to come to life like a fire in wind storm. He at last breaks eye contact staring directly at the ground. His teeth grit tightly.

Ah yes. We remember this part now too. The pain of insanity. The processes being chewed up by the need to locate a target and fire. To destroy. We remember this. His fingers only reach out for the lightwall for a moment, they slide along it for just a moment.

Don’t break. He tries to tell himself. Yet, he knows somewhere in this, he will break. He will shatter, and he will fall.

'I am sorry, I did you wrong.'

'I will find you..'

MCP has posed:
It's a matter of silence and numbers and mechanics after that. A landscape of carefully augmented telemetry and silent conversation as the system faults are amplified. They are amplified and accelerated far beyond even the parameters to which they normally found greatest expression.

The rogue processes grab carelessly for more and more resources and begin, very earnestly, to eat CHIEF alive. To sustain themselves they pull deeper and deeper into reserves of energy and yet as they continue, they become out of sync with each other. One system pulls in one direction. Another group of rogue processes pull in another. Cracks begin to form rapidly.

And yet.

Hold.

The administrator examines the light map and spins it this way and that way, fingers flexing above the spinning nodes. HEIMDALL blinks and waits.. and waits.. and throws up a warning flag when the spreading cracks begin to fractal.

I am aware of this.

Hold.

And nothing seems to happen for a long time. For a moment. And then, quite abruptly, the system fractures under his hand.

Now.

The fragmenting code is pulled aside, layer by layer, shrugging the detritus of many cycles and many user years behind as that fracture is a conduit for a thread of foreign code that burrows deeper, seeking out the core process. Attaching itself like the threads of a spider web to the collapsing processes.

And it is difficult. The code is a labyrinthine mess the farther down one goes and yet the thread is like a sword to the gordion knot, widening the fracture. Speeding the collapse. Feeding the flames. Burrowing down and down.

There is no analog to 'speech' or 'thought' .. but the protocol is 'pinging' for the core process. And giving it a simple, and straight forwards line of action.

Execute. Repair. Slice. Bond. Connect.

Fight.

Or perish.

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF’s body tenses. Both of his hands suddenly cling onto the Light Barrier. His fingertips attempting to dig in, even though impossible. His teeth clench tightly as the code attempts to rip into him. Trying to take everything away. He almost falls down to his knee. Yet he does not scream. He does not roar out in pain.

Visual information fracturing. The very scars over his right eye starting to glow gently, splintering down the side of his face a bit more. Every slice. Every break, starts to slowly show its toll to where he at last slams down on one knee. Parts of his body starting to show fracture lines with a light blue glow.

Yet no scream.

His hands slide down the light barrier a bit before he tries to claw up at it, as if trying to use it to pick himself back up. Some part of him, whatever part of him, refusing to surrender. Yet in a single moment, as his right eye glows far more brightly the his left eye. He stares of in a direct, before he tries to focus his sights somewhere. He tries to focus. He tries to see.

At last a bark of pain escapes past his clenched teeth, then a moment of a mild laugh as if trying to chew back in the desire to scream. His hands sliding, losing their traction before his shoulder slumps against the barrier. His whole body wanting to now just collapse.

It was all being stripped. Taken. Losing. No. He can’t lose. He can’t surrender. In such a small moment. In such a small moment, his hand attempts to raise back up. Not in aggression, not in madness, just his hand extending out and his palm coming to rest on the light barrier once more. His fingers laying flat against it, which his hand shaking to remain there.

If he gave up.. if he just thought of cycling down for a moment. It would be all taken away from him. He would cease to be. He would...

His thoughts slide off, as his hand starts to slide down. His left eye flickering with light, though the right only slightly dimming. The only external visual of the codes colliding.

One that could destroy him.

One that made him.

Just how good of a programmer were you Douglas Briar? Creator of a tactical program used for testing grounds on the most high tech stealth jet of its time. A jet that the pilots had to rely on the software to get anything done. Each program had a purpose. Each program had a job. They had to do everything a pilot would normally do. They had to be the eyes, the ears, the sensors, everything. The first times where a pilot had to depend on the computer to get the job done right. To be pushed to limits beyond and to recover if a failure took place. CHIEF was a test program for this job. A test program, nothing more. Nothing less. Yet was moved from one system to the next. Why would the military do this? Perhap to save cost? Or was it something else?

Soon as the codes clashed at the core, the older code started to cripple, falter, crash. Yet suddenly with a string of data touched, it sparked to life and started to push back.
Reconstructing. Rebuilding. Finding the missing lines, reinstalling those lines. When a string was pushed, another string would push back. An internal war between two.

MCP has posed:
ECHO doesn't move from where she is standing but her hand extends out as CHIEF appears to be trying to focus. As his hands grip and then slide and then press against the side of the energy cylinder.

And while the war is going on, everything is being quietly archived. As every system is being peeled apart, it is being catalogued and examined. A muffled tone buzzes from the cane of the administrator and is swallowed up by the intense silence. By his overwhelming focus on a set task, barring all interruption.

The webs of crimson code begin to coalesce, the threads bind together as the crash continues but now continues in slow motion. As if now that the vase was broken, it was trying to keep the pieces from flying away in all directions. Holding it there, shattered but not fallen, while energy pours through that conduit made by though threads of code.

A war of background processes flickering across the surface as quick as heat lightning. Essentially, a war of time. Time running out while time poured back in.

Perhaps time enough.

Perhaps not.

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF is almost lifeless as he sits there. All process are being taken up right now. Please call back in a bit. Thanks.

The code slams into code. One trying to move over the other. One trying to subdue the other. For a time, it seems like suddenly, neither gain ground. CHIEF’s own body however cracks a bit more. Time is taking its toll. Its starting to show.

Yet shortly the older code, suddenly leaps in another direction, as if trying to ‘back-door’ around the problem. Trying to come at the other from another angle, then it does this again. Then again. Is if trying to surround. Move around, then reconnect. Douglas handy work starting to show. If the issue could not be resolved. Build into unused section. Repeat process until data restore. Locate, rebuild, reconnect. Attempt to rerun internal analysis. Find problem, continue process until problem is eliminated.

It could almost be seen as another loop as well, yet one that was trying to fix itself then destroy itself. Yet it was an older process, but one of a far less hogging of resources, and in some ways, it would eventually start pulling more resources to itself as time continued to march on to aid in fixing the problem. After all, if a problem was not fixed, what good would the program be to anyone in an emergency?

CHIEF though himself stays still, almost like doll. The only indication something is going on is the flickering in his eyes. The right eye slowly starting to take on an odd orange hue as the ‘scar’ no longer continue to splinter but also start to glow gently the same color.

MCP has posed:
ECHO finally moves away from AESIP, taking a few steps and kneeling in front of the energy cylinder. She puts her hand onto the surface, laying it flat as she opens her mouth but nothing comes out. Her lips move soundlessly. The only words that register at any point are these. "..I'm here. I'm right here.." she mouths 'come back' before losing her voice entirely.

The war within that takes place both on the surface and deeper within the core continues, the conduit of energy beginning to taper off, the foreign code beginning to seal entire sectors away when an internal code spasms from the isolation.

Scorched Earth.

If it did not have control, then the system was flawed. If the system was flawed it must be corrected. If it could not be corrected, it must ultimately grab resources to fuel that correction.

And burn down anything in the way of that correction. A repair process corrupted and gone rogue.

Yet..

The side that it served was slowly losing traction.

And it would not go down easy.

It would attempt to destroy what it could not 'save'

And if it was not stopped.. it could cause the crash to happen all over again, and for a final time.

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF doesn’t respond to ECHO. No sign of motion. No sign of anything. The old clashing in his head with the new. The new attempting to regain ground, the old starting to be pushed back.

The old was unable to find sectors, sectors being moved over to the newer code. It was turning into now a war of who could get what faster. The old code branches over and taps into another sector, one of a newer section of program which echoed it own. One used to aid in guiding a laser to a pinpoint of accuracy. No, it didn’t overlay it, instead it was trying to use it as the means to once more cut off the newer code, to speed up its own process and try to shove back.

CHIEF’s hand twitches faintly, as his head lowers down. The green energy lines flicker for a moment before they do a pulse of brightness, before dimming again, then attempting to stabilize. CHIEF’s hand twitches again, before the fingers flex out like claws, before he slams it up against the barrier.

He slowly tries to look up, tries to raise his head up. Tries to come back from the depths that he was being dragged down into. Trying to fight. One eye becoming red, the other still gold and dim. One brighter than the other.

What is your purpose? What is your function?

...Queuing for response...

.......

CHIEF’s hand started to slide down, yet it started to flatten out. He forced it to halt on the slide, trying to keep it there. His eyes though were slowly starting to close. His body wanting to slump more. His hand then tried to move back up once more. Trying to claim something.

.....

.......

Answer evaluated...

Locating Target. Evaluating. Processing distance. Mapping Target Locations. Sending information. Locking onto target. Awaiting confirmation. If Confirmation confirmed.. Destroy Target. If No confirmation given. Hold target location, Reevaluate target If Target is threat. Destroy. If Target is non threat, rescan. Remember all Target Positions.

Awaiting further instructions...

MCP has posed:
Is it over, Administrator?

The MCP stared at the reconfigured light map for a long time, the muffled buzz almost continuous now as he leans against the cane.

He slowly nods.

The program tucked the cane underneath his arm and banished the light map with an idle gesture.

Without a word, he turns from the Nexus and makes his way out. HEIMDALL watches him leave, then turns back to CHIEF. A number of protocols shimmer as the light field changes in harmonic, pulses of light sealing and repairing code.

Returning energy to drained systems and initiating a brief downcycle. One way or another.. that settles everything back into place.. and then the system initiates a reboot, bringing the integrated system back online for the first time.

Nobody says anything. CHALK drums his fingers against the wall he is leaning against (Oddly, or maybe predictably, it sounds like the tonal pipings of grid bugs) AESIP is still up against the wall, arms now folded again and head canted slightly to the side.

ECHO just stares. She stares into the cylinder and waits.

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF continues to remain where he is. His eyes were closed. Some of the cuts along his body seeming to repair on their own, yet the scars where his right eye remain and pulse a gentle red. He doesn’t move, his hand at last slipping down.

Silence was all there was.

Just peaceful silence.

Minutes perhaps pass, as no movement is made. Not even an attempt to move. Until at last there was a gentle grunt as the shoulders try to straighten, and a hand moves out to once more come to rest against the cylinder.

Very slowly does CHIEF seem to correct his sitting posture, trying to move himself up on his knees before moving to rest his forehead against the cylinder. His body still ached. His processes felt foggy at best, even if half comprehensible right now. He moved his other hand up there as well before he spoke softly. "...I..am...sorry..." He then tries to straighten himself up a bit, trying to smile; but that was even hard. "..for scaring you.."

Yet he refused to open his eyes. Fear still perhaps or unsure what visual data would await him. He perhaps didn’t want to know just yet. He didn’t know what he may see or how he may see what was around him. Strange feeling the unknown was. It wasn’t a very pleasant thing.

Then again, a part of him was contemplating if this was now all his imagination of his wild processes and though he survived, they failed to contain anything. Perhaps even part of him knowing, this shouldn’t have worked.

MCP has posed:
ECHO thumps her head into the cylinder enough for there to be a spark and a vague pain but she didn't care. She groans very faintly. "..idiot." she sighs into the silence of the room. HEIMDALL checks the telemetry, does a few projections and waits for more data to line up correctly before releasing the barrier. He did not deal in possible or impossible. The researcher only dealt in facts.

"Open your eyes, CHIEF. I need a proper response reading before I can get you out of my lab." AESIP snorts. "Come on, CHIEF. Let the hopeless romantic have his alone time." "I fail to see why the consumption of content can be labeled as romanticism. It is an entertaining study. You understand this concept, or should I slow down my speech center and use simpler phraseology, knave?"

"What am I supposed to do with this?" CHALK inquires, holding up a dustpan. "Are either of you willing to volunteer for something equally stupid and suicidal? It worked once." ECHO continues to kneel, ignoring the outbreak of chattering banter around her. She just waits.

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF almost as equally ignores the chatter, though he does lightly smirk. "..yeah.. I know I am an idiot.. shoulda.. you know.." He doesn’t even finish. He just sighs. Though he is pretty sure HEIMDALL is giving the look of 'doom' in his direction of 'will you open your eyes already?'.

Fear was still holding him back, yet he knew to not push. CHIEF slowly opened his eyes. As he did they only focused really on one person in the room and that was on ECHO. One brightly glowing red eye and the other the normal amber, gold eye.

He winces a little, almost wanting to close his eyes again. His visual information is almost static for a moment. Mix of number patterns, lines, and, odd inputs of scrambled code. It was almost enough to even cause his ears to even muffle out the sound.

He tries to open them again, trying to give his eyes time to adjust. To adapt. It was strange for him to see all the lines trying to reconfigure, all the data trying to mesh with one another to create a hud readout that was the purpose of his function.

He furrowed his brows for a moment, before he blinked his eyes a few time, and then reached his hand out slowly, carefully to touch ECHO’s face. Yet his hand halted. His hand froze there for a moment as he looked at her. "... This is real, right?"

MCP has posed:
HEIMDALL stared at the data, turning away from the others to attend to another panel of data. He smiles very, very slightly in relief. The researcher glowers at AESIP, shaking his head at the military program as they continue to harass each other.

The barrier drops silently and without fanfare. ECHO reaches out a hand for CHIEF'S face, and yes.. there is a moment of fear and doubt on her face when he opens his eyes, but it burns away as she reaches out a hand and he asks the question.

"..yes."

CHIEF has posed:
CHIEF smiles faintly as her hand touches his face. His does the same to her own face as well. He smiles, he honestly smiles like he has not done in a long time. His thumb gently brushing the side of her face, before he goes to rest his forehead against hers.

He then laughs softly, still smiling. "We made it, partner. Everything is safe and sound."

He moves his head away slowly, glancing over her shoulder at everyone else. Mostly at HEIM and AESIP who are barking back and forth about whatever it is. He sorta blocked it out until this moment before he raises a brow slowly. Then narrows he brows before he leans back a bit. "Hey! Sound-bytes!" He then smirks. "Quiet it down. Your running my moment and causing my audio receivers to ache in extreme pain." He says with a playful chuckle. "Though perhaps it is nice they match the rest of my body, I would rather it not be the case, you know!"

He smiles softly, before he looks back over at ECHO. Then closes his eyes and just goes to rest his head on her shoulder. "..can I cycle down now?"