As D-45 was getting ready to kill Mariah, his hands slowly began to transform — just slowly enough to go unnoticed by most, but not slow enough to escape Mariah's notice.
"Sigh... calm down, I ain't gonna do anything," said Mariah.
"How exactly did you know who I was? And how exactly do you expect me to believe you?" said D-45, now with his left hand fully transformed into a laser shooter.
"The mask and clothing gave it away. Not many Replicons hide their faces — too prideful. But there are a couple that would, and the biggest suspect would be the infamous D-45. Besides, last I checked, you had no weapons on you. I could tell the pistol you used was transformed," said Mariah.
To say D-45 was shocked would be a complete understatement. D-45 wasn't shocked by how smart she was — in fact, it was the opposite. He found her to be a complete moron.
"That is the dumbest reasoning I have ever heard," said D-45. In fact, D-45 was in such disbelief that someone could identify him with that kind of logic, he became suspicious of her all over again.
"Is it even safe to leave my identity to an idiot like her, even if it is true?" thought D-45.
"I've been a genius since the day I was born," said Mariah with glee in her eyes.
"Besides, I ain't gonna sell ya out now. I ain't got a reason to." D-45 still didn't believe her — the bounty placed on him by many organizations was more than enough reason for most.
Ultimately, D-45 decided to let her live, at least for now. Instead, D-45 walked toward the door — not fast nor slow, just a regular walk.
"Before ya leave, mind telling me something?" said Mariah, now sitting on a mostly broken chair behind the counter with her legs laid on the high counter.
She looked like one of those people who tried acting cool by putting their legs on tables.
"Depends on the question," said D-45, his hand on the door handle, but he wasn't going to leave yet; he wanted to hear the question first.
"What was it like? I mean before the war that sent us all to hell," said Mariah. She didn't look mad or sad; the only emotion on her face was intense curiosity.
"My grandfather told me stories. My grandfather's grandfather told him about stories of when he was a kid. I found some of them hard to believe myself," said Mariah.
D-45 said nothing for a couple of seconds; silence filled the room before he finally replied: "It was beautiful."
Cling Cling Cling — the bells rang out before the once-open door closed again.
Now outside, D-45 kept reminiscing about the world before the war. Sure, his life wasn't great — no free will and all that — but the world itself looked great, at least before the Freo virus.
While walking on the broken and torn road alongside the crumbling buildings, D-45 heard a sound — whimpering.
D-45 looked toward where the whimpering came from and heard, "SHUT UP, YOU DUMB ANIMAL!"
Two people were beating up a dog in an alleyway to the left of where D-45 was walking. Animals these days were not seen as pets like before, but rather burdens — a waste of energy and sometimes even food. It made sense. In a post-apocalyptic world, most people would rather take care of themselves than feed a pet. Food was already scarce in this place; having another mouth to feed that brought nothing in return was a waste of time and energy.
"I AM DONE WITH—HEH—HAVING—HEH—TO TAKE CARE OF YOU," the person hitting the dog said, breathing heavily while kicking it.
"Come on, man, let's just go. This is a waste of time and energy," said the person standing next to him.
Reluctantly, the man agreed and walked further into the alley, leaving the dog on the ground.
D-45 walked over and gave the dog some jerky he had found on some thugs he'd beaten up a while ago. D-45 could tell the dog was hungry, so he decided to give it the jerky. He had no use for it — D-45 was a Replicon, a machine that didn't need food to operate. Replicons mostly used ultra-strong solar panels integrated into their bodies to generate energy.
After giving the dry jerky to the dog, D-45 started walking away. Not even ten steps in, the dog — having already finished the jerky — began following him.
D-45 noticed but decided to ignore it; he thought the stray would leave him be after a while.
After walking for three blocks, with many turns, the dog was still following.
D-45, a bit bothered, said, "Why won't you leave me alone?" But the dog didn't understand nor care and instead gave a single bark in return.
"Listen here, I don't want you nor need you. What I do isn't something a dog or even a regular human can handle," said D-45. But again, the dog didn't care or understand and kept following him.
After a bit more walking, D-45 and the dog reached the food market — a chaotic place where everyone was yelling at each other and competitors even fought physically.
While D-45 was looking around the market, someone grabbed the dog and attempted to walk away with it.
As soon as D-45 saw the man trying to kidnap the dog, he yelled out, "HEY!" The man, thinking the dog might belong to D-45, started running.
D-45 ran after him; the dog, trying to escape the man's grasp, bit him several times before the man stopped running, muzzled the dog, picked it back up, and continued fleeing.
After a few attempts to escape, the man was cornered by D-45 in an alley. The man tried throwing a few punches, but D-45 easily tossed him to the ground.
"Hey man, hands off! I found this dog first, and it's mine to eat! Find another animal to snack on — I ain't giving up what I found first!" said the man, now sitting on the ground.
After hearing that, D-45 thought to himself, Does everyone speak like that in this goddamn city?
"You misunderstood. I'm not going to eat the dog — he's my pet." After D-45 said those words, the man sat in shock. He had never heard of someone having a pet before; it was unusual in this world. Pets were just extra mouths to feed. No one had them anymore, except for the rich, who sometimes kept guard dogs.
The man, having no choice, gave the dog back to D-45.
After the man left, D-45 looked at the dog and said, "How about we give you a name?"
After pondering for a while, D-45 came to a decision: "Dogmeat. That's going to be your name now — Dogmeat."
"Alright, Dogmeat, let's go back to the market. I still have some business there."
After walking back to the market, D-45 approached a building. Before entering, he told Dogmeat to wait outside — and to run in only if he was being kidnapped, and bark if they managed to catch him before he could escape. However, Dogmeat didn't seem to understand any of it.
After trying to get Dogmeat to understand, D-45 entered the building. As he walked up the stairs to the first floor, he noticed his radar wasn't working. Multiple body parts weren't functioning either.
D-45 wasn't a fool. He knew there was a trap ahead, so he decided to turn back. But before he could reach the stairs, a fist hurled toward his stomach, punching a hole through it.
A mix of emotions ran through D-45's mind, but the strongest was fear. The punch was aimed at his core. Luckily, it missed.
D-45 instantly transformed his left hand into a blade and attempted to cut off the hand, but the attacker pulled back — grabbing the chip. The chip, located where a human's intestines would be, held all the backup data for Replicons.
Everything happened in less than five seconds. The person D-45 was facing was insanely skilled. But at the same time, D-45 knew the person wasn't a Replicon. To have punched a hole through him without tech was inhuman.
Zooming in, D-45 saw the attacker's hand wasn't mechanical.
A regular human punching through hard-reinforced carbo-metal was incomprehensible. The person wore a cloak and a mask — massive in size, easily over 195 cm, while D-45 stood at a mere 127 cm. It made sense — D-45 wasn't originally designed for combat, though he'd made modifications over the years.
The masked assassin charged in to finish what they started, but D-45 wasn't going to die that easily. As the assassin threw another punch, D-45 dodged and countered with his blade.
D-45 didn't want to fight this monster up close — the risk was too high. The assassin could somehow punch holes in his frame. D-45 tried to make distance, but the assassin seemed to anticipate it and didn't let him get far.
While scrambling for an escape route, D-45 thought, This person is nuts. This had to have been planned. It's like he knows everything about me. He even seems to know how my hand works.
After a struggle, D-45 managed to create a gap between them — only to fall into another trap. A second person, appearing out of nowhere, punched D-45 in the head, cracking his lenses.
Great, now I'm blind and fighting two assassins, thought D-45. Then came a strong punch that knocked him down.
Before everything went dark, D-45 heard the second assassin — unmasked — say:
"Take this as mercy, you worthless Replicon. A new age is upon us — where humans will reign supreme once more. Where we Menders lead humanity to a better world."
And then, D-45 shut down.