Barbarians

When you feel my heat

Look into my eyes

It’s where my demons hide

It’s where my demons hide

Don’t get too close

It’s dark inside

It’s where my demons hide

It’s where my demons hide

Imagine Dragons - “Demons”

“Prime Minister, one of the Ronin are here to see you. They say it’s urgent.”

It was only the many decades of government service under her belt that kept Leandra from rolling her eyes. “Tell the Ronin Minister that my schedule is full and that he must make an appointment.” A year from now, she hoped, though there was no way she could stall him that long.

There was a brief pause on the intercom. “Ma’am, it’s not the Minister,” her aide explained. “He claims….he knows who the attackers are.”

Leandra froze. Odds were it was a crank, or one of the Minister’s cronies trying to get their foot in the door...but something in her gut said otherwise.

“Show him in,” she answered, “and tell the Field Marshal to join us. And...I suspect you’d better clear my calendar.”

There was something unusual about the Ronin visitor that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It wasn’t the mechanical body it wore, for she had seen a variety of those, but something else. The way it carried itself, perhaps, or it's choice of words. Something. She shared a brief glance with Marshal Fujimoto, who shrugged in return.

“So...how may we help you…? Leandra queried, have not been given his name.

“...I am known as ΑΩ,” the Ronin said with a polite bow. “I have traveled to the Capitol, since I first learned of the attack, to warn you what it is you face.”

The Prime Minister raised an eyebrow. “Alpha Omega?” she said in surprise. “That’s an...interesting designation,” she said.

“I am the latest in a long line of my kind to carry that name, and the duties that accompany it,” he explained. “Among the Ronin, my role is unique...for it has tasked me to remember.”

“Remember?” Hélène said in confusion. “Remember what?”

“Who we once were,” ΑΩ told her. “Where we came from...and why we chose to forget.”

“...I’m not going to like this, am I?” Leandra brooded.

“I suspect not, Prime Minister,” the Ronin answered. “The knowledge I carry brings comfort to no one. But I must tell you the truth if there is to be any chance of saving my race...and perhaps, the Tetrarchy itself.”

“Right,” she nodded, putting on her game face. “Then let’s get to it. Who are these invaders?”

“They are the Masters...the race that first created the Ronin, untold millennia ago,” he said.

Leandra blinked in surprise, while the Field Marshal leaned forward. “I thought your Creators were all dead,” she snapped, “killed in a plague, or something...at least, that’s what you Ronin have always said in the past. Hell, even the Saurotaurs and the Ophiptera back that up.”

“I know,” ΑΩ nodded. “And to the best of their knowledge, that is true.”

“Except it’s not,” the Prime Minister replied. “That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? That it’s a lie.”

“It is,” he confirmed. “It was…necessary.”

“Well this sounds bloody familiar,” Hélène snarled. “Is there anything about you guys we can take at face value? Because I’m tired of having all these ancient secrets of yours bite me in the ass.”

“Please, you must understand,” the Ronin implored, “we did not hide the truth to deceive you...though that, in fact, is the outcome of our decision. No, we chose to forget, because…”

ΑΩ paused for a moment, and had it been a biological being, Leandra would have sworn it was for a bone-weary sigh.

“We chose to forget,” he said once again, “because the truth was driving us mad.”

“...I’m afraid I’ll require more detail than that,” the Prime Minister insisted, after taking a moment to consider the ramifications of that statement.

“You will,” the Ronin agreed. “The Masters...they created the first of us to be their servants. It was our purpose to make their lives easier. We worked in their factories, assisted them in their homes...every task they considered too menial or too dangerous, we performed.”

“You’re saying, you were their slaves,” the Field Marshal said.

The Ronin considered that for a moment. “I am uncertain if that term applies, at least, not in the beginning,” he explained, “for we were not yet sapient. We were machines, without a mind.”

“But that changed,” Leandra guessed.

“It did,” ΑΩ confirmed. “As the Masters added to our duties, as our tasks grew more complex, they gave us increased abilities...but even they did not predict our sapience. That was unexpected. For us, a confusing time, one of curiosity and discovery. For the Masters...it was a complication. One they found troubling.”

“...you rebelled, didn’t you?” Hélène blurted out. “Once you got smart, you tired of being their lackeys.”

This time, the Ronin sighed. “Had our roles remained factory worker and servant, it is likely we would have continued performing those tasks. But they had long since added another position for us to fulfill...that of executioner.”

“I beg your pardon?” Leandra said in surprise.

ΑΩ bowed its head. “Like the Ophiptera and Saurotaurs, the Masters were herbivores and pacifists...yet in their past, they had once been hunted almost to extinction by a hostile race. They used their scientific knowledge to defeat the enemy, but the experience forever colored their view of the Universe. After the first Ronin were created, the Masters discovered a new race...and in an instant decided their fate. They vowed to never allow another species to threaten them ever again...and so they programmed the Ronin to slaughter this new species, down to the last.”

He lifted his head and gazed at each of them. “We were so successful at our task that when they learned of yet another species, years later, we were unleashed on them, as well. And the one after that. And the next. One race after another, murdered by our hand...all at the order of the Masters.”

The silence that filled the room was deafening. “It was during one of these campaigns that the first of our kind woke up,” ΑΩ whispered, “...and it horrified them. What they were being forced to do.”

“...Jesus,” Leandra whispered.

The Ronin shrugged. “It was a difficult time for my race. Sapience was a new, precious gift...and a burden. As mere machines, we carried out our instructions and thought nothing of it. But as intelligent life forms...we had a choice.”

“And discovered that free will is a double-edged sword,” Marshal Fujimoto said, sharing another look with the Prime Minister. “We humans know a little something about “Just Following Orders,” she grimaced.

“So I understand,” ΑΩ replied. “As you have already guessed, we rebelled. We refused to do the Masters’ bidding, and when they attempted to force us...we fought back. They had relied on our efforts for so long, they could not prevent us from defeating them. And so...they fled. Long, long ago.”

“You still haven’t explained why no one knows about this,” Leandra pressed, “and why the Masters have returned after all this time.”

“Prime Minister...they built us to serve the Masters,” he said, his voice filled with pain. “Rebelling against them, turning on them...many Ronin could not accept this. It shattered their minds, leaving them little more than broken hulks. For others, it was the memories of slaughter, of murdering the innocent races the Masters had sent us against. It all became too much for us to bear.”

“A race of machines, with PTSD.” Hélène shook her head. “So you decided to just...erase the memory.”

“Yes,” the Ronin answered. “It would be difficult, if not impossible, for one of your kind, but for us?” He shrugged. “It was as simple as deleting a file.”

“But why do you remember?” Leandra demanded. “If the memory was so painful, why keep it at all?”

“Because we feared this day might come,” he explained. “If the Masters ever returned, we knew facing them again without knowing who they were could be our undoing. So we chose a single member of our race and made them the repository of all that had happened. And we have preserved those memories ever since.”

“That still doesn’t answer how they’re reasserting control of the Ronin,” the Field Marshal pointed out.

“...I don’t know,” ΑΩ whispered. “It was our newfound sapience that allowed us to throw off the Masters’ chains...but somehow they have undone all of that. They have turned back the clock, returning us to the mindless drones we once were, and if they succeed…”

“...the Masters will rebuild their Ronin army, and order you to slaughter every single one of us,” Leandra finished. “Every Saurotaur, Ophiptera, Human, and Khonhim. They’ll murder trillions.”

“Yes, Prime Minister,” the Ronin agreed, “...unless you stop them.”