Chapter 7 The 1St Classification

• There was a repeated clang, ‘Clank… clank … clank’.
• Red began to wake up, quietly cleared her mouth, and felt her throat dry. Red's faint sigh followed her hand, grasping for the wire connecting to her left eye and pulling it out. Her left eye was splattered with blood.
• The robot built by Jeremiah and Ingo was cruel to Red.
• Red had to suffer every time she had to be fused. Ursula requires a great deal of improvement because Red's mind believes that there is still a long way to go before she becomes a robot toward perfection.
• Call appeared to be banging from outside, and the sound of Call's continual knocking made Red comprehend. Call had removed the mask that had covered his head, allowing Red to see that the young man's face was pale and worried.
• "Red! Come on! Red!" Call shouted desperately. "You’re okay, right?!”
• Red mumbled under her breath and remained silent. She took a deep breath, gathering all her remaining energy, and felt her heartbeat as usual.
• "Red! Answer me!" An impatient call was made from outside. "Geez, Red...!!!"
• "Ursula, get me out of here," Red demanded.
• Ursula's chest opened, and Red was surprised that her robot responded quickly. Red hobbled out, aided by Call. Red gazed around after exiting Ursula's body; many people were still lying motionless on the floor.
• Many others had already entered the first gate when entering the hall.
• There was no Troy, no Viz hologram. The survivors were all that remained in the hall. Little droids floated around, repairing the wall pierced by plasma bolts from Ursula's hand.
• Call assisted Red lying on the floor, resting on Ursula's arm, already sitting stiffly. Call touched Red's cheek gently, wiping away the bloody patch that clung to it.
• "Are you okay? "Your eye is bleeding," Call voiced concern.
• "I’m fine, Call." Red gave a feeble nod.
• " What you did was amazing. I didn't know your robot could do that. How did you get a license for such a destructive robot? No human has one," Call babbled. " You have to be careful, Red. There will be a lot of people who want your robot."
• "If they want to try," Red hissed.
• " I think she's a loyal robot to you, don't you?" Ursula was pointed out by Call. " Look, even your backpack is still hanging around her wrist."
• Red laughed solemnly. "I had no idea my bag was still there."
• "Can you walk? We need to get out of here."
• "Where?"
• "They told us to follow the clues. Come on, I don't want the gates to suddenly open again, and we completely vanish like those people out there," Call said in a trembling voice.
• With Red's arm resting on Call's shoulder, they strolled, following the signs that kept lighting up and going somewhere inside the ship. Those who felt strong enough stepped up to follow. Red saw Ingos transporting persons in critical condition. The people were placed on metal plates that floated above the floor surface, then laid there, crowded together.
• "What are they going to do with the wounded?" whispered Red.
• "I don't know. I think our priority should be survival."
• "But—"
• "Red, only three thousand people survived, and I think that's beyond the calculations of that mentally ill AI we saw the hologram of." Call let out his frustration. "She will continue to kill humans, and we here are the pawns of her game."
• "Her name is Viz, and she can't be mentally ill." Red turned to face Call. "She’s an AI, remembers?"
• "How come you know her name?" Call's brows were nearly knitted together. "Is Viz the name of that AI?"
• "Everyone knows she's Viz, Call," Red emphasized.
• Back then, Red had learned through Jeremiah and Ingo that Viz had the supreme authority of the state command. These AIs had different levels, but Viz was everything. How could people not recognize Viz?
• "No." Call came to a halt. " Even on the tablet of knowledge, it was never explained who the AI with the highest and most advanced version was. How did you get that information?"
• "My late father said that a long time ago."
• "What was your father's name?"
• "Jeremiah Harts." Red was wary of telling Call that. For some reason, there was a feeling that telling her family name could cause trouble.
• Call made a shaky motion with his head. "I never heard that name. Anyway, your name now is Lein Last. My eighteen-year-old sister. Do you understand?"
• Red stared at Call, puzzled, but a dread welled inside her. Could his father's surname be a problem? She had no idea what his father did for a job, but Ingo explained he was a mechanic who fixed and tested the robots to ensure proper function. She had no idea about the rest. If Jeremiah and Ingo could keep Ursula's existence secret and build a lethal enough robot, Red felt certain... that Jeremiah was no ordinary mechanic.
• "I don't know, Red. I'm just worried about you." Call gave him a sweet smile. "But don't worry, as long as I'm breathing, I'll look after you."
• Red nodded, her heart racing with emotion. This was the first time she had interacted with someone in a long time, and this person was quite empathic. They might have become good friends if they hadn't met under such horrific circumstances.
• They continued walking down the corridor till they came to another spacious hall. There were several thresholds in front of them. Several entries had the same colors and symbols as before and categorization screens.
• Some people waved Red over and stared timidly, while others showed gratitude with a glint in their eyes. Yet, no one spoke up. They were all silent, still recovering from the horrible slaughter of people under Viz's command.
• "What does suppose to mean?" mumbled Call as he glanced up.
• They stood in line and waited their turn. People appeared to be just entering the threshold, but the entries of the remaining two doors could not enter. Several were bounced out by the holographic net and eventually entered another entryway. Two types of door classifications could not all enter. However, the other four individuals could quickly enter.
• There were six threshold classifications, for a total of sixty, into which they might freely enter based on the criteria.
• The first categorization of doorway, with brown fluorescent lights on the sides. It had a screen with a shield emblem on it. The second gateway has a sword emblem and fire-red lights on its sides.
• "Do you think we should enter one of those? And choose what to be?" asked Red. "Or do they choose which door we should enter?"
• "It's not everyone can access the last door, Red. I believe the others are free."
• Red's gaze was drawn to the third door, which had the symbol of a gun. With the hue yellow fluorescent light. A hammer and cross emblem on the fourth door with purple and green lighting. A blue holographic stick sign appears on the fifth door with alternating white and blue lights. And the final entry has no insignia, only dark, and the glow around the threshold is turned off. It was as if the doorway's lights had gone out.
• "I don't want to go through that door," Call pointed out. "Who knows, once you pass through there, you'll only be presented with death." He shivered.
• "You’re being ridiculous.”
• "I'm realistic. We almost died before this. I learned from my mistakes, lest I not be vigilant."
• “Guess you’re right.”
• Red got up from the grip of her arms, immediately feeling better. It was their turn to walk through the gate. Several had ducked and were still deciding which doorway to enter, letting people in first. There was no Troy or Ingo, but there were other AI kinds with petite bodies and heights of no more than a meter. They were like children, running about with tablets, welcoming people to enter.
• "See you on the other side," Call promised.
• The young man passed through the third gate, which displayed a rifle symbol.
• "Callum Last. Twenty-four years old. Classification … Gunner." There was a sound as Call passed through the gate.
• Red took a step back, unsure which threshold to enter. She watched the people who entered first, followed by the echoing voice from the loudspeaker.
• "Poi Nok. Thirty years old. Classification ... Swordsman."
• "Mohammed. Fifteen years old. Classification ... Support Weapon."
• "Lika. Forty years old. Classification ... Support Medic."
• Voices from the other doors echoed each other. The one nearest to Red, though, she could clearly hear. Red was drawn to a female humanoid with white hair and a disdainful demeanor. Her height was only approximately five feet. She walked effortlessly into the fifth doorway.
• "Sethi... twenty-five years old. Classification ... Metaphysic."
• "Aamon... twenty-two years old. Classification ... Assassins."
• Red's gaze was still drawn to the person who had entered the last doorway. He was a young man, tall and slim, with the same stature as Call. His skin was deathly pale, and he was dressed in all black, including a black long-sleeved jacket. His hair was a deep purple-black color, with long, nose-length bangs.
• Red's heart was pounding. Seeing someone so attractive with such a chilly expression. Red has never met or seen anyone like the young man named Aamon. She’s not sure which hemisphere he lived in.
• Red attempted to enter the Support classification, believing she lacked combat skills. Nevertheless, the holographic net rejected and shoved Red's body for the first time as soon as she entered, causing Red to fall backward.
• "What the hell?" hissed Red irritably.
• He entered the other doors, Gunner and Swordsman, at random, but Red was sent out again. While everyone else was able to enter quickly and without difficulty. Were the AIs teasing her about smashing the panel in the hall before this? Red would be tossed out and then hurled into the void. Red's emotions were tumultuous. She didn't want her life cut short because of a classification problem. She needed to live. Didn't she have Jeremiah's vengeance on her mind?
• Although she still has no idea what happened or her father's intentions. Red must discover that while living on Ohm's spaceship and searching for answers.
• Red stood up, realizing the final two thresholds would reject her. Red entered the first door with steady steps, Ursula following behind her.
• "Lein Last. Eighteen years old. Classification... Tank."