[It's no secret that Nick doesn't exactly trust the gods, especially not after all that's happened.
The last couple of months have been particularly tough on the old synth. There were the ghosts, one of whom appeared as Rey's mother; she asked Nick to kill her in order to save her family, his family. He's not a cold-blooded killer, but he did what he had to do. The blood staining the riverbank reminded him too much of Jenny -- it had all been too close to home.
Then they were put through the wringer with that fake life, in which Rey really was his family: he was married to her mother, living a peaceful life in a small town. It had been about as idyllic as some of those pre-war memories of his he has copied into his hardware, the kind of life he'd never have. As the illusion had faded, he felt his mechanical heart crack from the remorse. That wife he'd had? Dead by his hands, her corpse buried by the water. Hell, it hadn't even been the real Undine, but for as much as that ghost had loved Rey, she might as well have been. She was about as much the real Undine as he was the real Nick Valentine.
Nick's patrols have gotten longer, his head more cluttered. To top it all off, the Null are back on the network, and this time, they're throwing out more than just feelers for who they can turn to their side. Nick can't trust the gods, but he can't trust them, either, especially not with the way they've been talking. So long as the gods die and they get the Door, they don't care who gets hurt.
They believe machines shouldn't feel, shouldn't be as close to human as he is. He might be more machine than man, but he refuses to turn his back on the people who want to stay in Hadriel, those who would be living under these Null. If they can't feel fear, there's no doubt in his mind they don't feel generosity or benevolence, either. They might be able to send folks home with the Door if they got a hold of it, sure... but if they could do that, who was to say they wouldn't send themselves through it, too?
Maybe they would just exist, as they said to one of the curious folks on their transmission, or maybe they'd turn their sights to the next thing they deemed unnatural. Nick doesn't know, but he's not about to hedge his bets on replacing one problem with another. What he wants is answers. Most of the gods are evasive, at best, so shortly after the transmission goes live, he heads to the temple of the most practical of the bunch. There's always the chance the Null could be watching elsewhere on the network; he'd rather do this in person.
Though he doesn't immediately see Sorrow in his temple, Nick doesn't hesitate to let him know why he's here. He speaks up, the quiet discontent in his voice used to fight back the regret he feels stirring in his clockwork gut.]
Hey. I'm sure someone's told you by now, but you've got a bunch of machines on the network again. And this time, they're promising weapons for anyone who wants to try and kill Hope.
[June 29th; action]
The last couple of months have been particularly tough on the old synth. There were the ghosts, one of whom appeared as Rey's mother; she asked Nick to kill her in order to save her family, his family. He's not a cold-blooded killer, but he did what he had to do. The blood staining the riverbank reminded him too much of Jenny -- it had all been too close to home.
Then they were put through the wringer with that fake life, in which Rey really was his family: he was married to her mother, living a peaceful life in a small town. It had been about as idyllic as some of those pre-war memories of his he has copied into his hardware, the kind of life he'd never have. As the illusion had faded, he felt his mechanical heart crack from the remorse. That wife he'd had? Dead by his hands, her corpse buried by the water. Hell, it hadn't even been the real Undine, but for as much as that ghost had loved Rey, she might as well have been. She was about as much the real Undine as he was the real Nick Valentine.
Nick's patrols have gotten longer, his head more cluttered. To top it all off, the Null are back on the network, and this time, they're throwing out more than just feelers for who they can turn to their side. Nick can't trust the gods, but he can't trust them, either, especially not with the way they've been talking. So long as the gods die and they get the Door, they don't care who gets hurt.
They believe machines shouldn't feel, shouldn't be as close to human as he is. He might be more machine than man, but he refuses to turn his back on the people who want to stay in Hadriel, those who would be living under these Null. If they can't feel fear, there's no doubt in his mind they don't feel generosity or benevolence, either. They might be able to send folks home with the Door if they got a hold of it, sure... but if they could do that, who was to say they wouldn't send themselves through it, too?
Maybe they would just exist, as they said to one of the curious folks on their transmission, or maybe they'd turn their sights to the next thing they deemed unnatural. Nick doesn't know, but he's not about to hedge his bets on replacing one problem with another. What he wants is answers. Most of the gods are evasive, at best, so shortly after the transmission goes live, he heads to the temple of the most practical of the bunch. There's always the chance the Null could be watching elsewhere on the network; he'd rather do this in person.
Though he doesn't immediately see Sorrow in his temple, Nick doesn't hesitate to let him know why he's here. He speaks up, the quiet discontent in his voice used to fight back the regret he feels stirring in his clockwork gut.]
Hey. I'm sure someone's told you by now, but you've got a bunch of machines on the network again. And this time, they're promising weapons for anyone who wants to try and kill Hope.