Error Report

“He's awful, and I hate him, and I hate everything he does.”

“He's awful.”

“Yeah! But- but at the same time, I don't want anything else but to be– I need to do everything he does. I need to be like him. I have to be him. And it's a problem.”

“Mhm. A problem.”

“...Are you listening to me?”

“Hmm?”

Piecewise glanced up from their notes, continuing to scribble without looking at what they were writing. Pavlov crossed his arms and reclined in his seat, a grey-blue chair that was just as stiff and desaturated as the rest of Piecewise’s office. The room was bathed in eerie green light, and diagrams of electronic devices were pasted to the walls. They made Pavlov squeamish; Piecewise didn't have an eye for warm, welcoming decor.

“I'm listening, I promise,” Piecewise insisted. “It's just… this isn't usually the type of error I'm asked to solve, if you understand.”

“I'm not expecting you to fix my code this time. I'm fine with just talk.”

“Well, I can multi-task.”

Piecewise broke eye contact with Pavlov and went back to jotting down notes. Pavlov sighed; he didn't know what he expected from Piecewise if not this. They refused to sit and listen, always had to try and figure out a solution as soon as possible. Still, it wasn't like he had anybody else to talk to. The Termytes he worked with had no desire to discuss feelings- and he didn't want them to think he was broken. But Piecewise was well aware.

“I don't know what it is. I've theorized that it was some specific line of code they gave me, to make sure I stay in line. Or– Vulf attacked me before I had even gotten the chance to see my host, I don't know if there was an error with the imprint process.”

“I could try and check your code, but I wouldn't know what to look for.”

“But it could be nothing. I don’t know. Virusytes conquer and replace; that's all I'm doing. Vulf's another obstacle, just like any human.”

“...But you don't want to?”

“Wh– I mean, I'm going to, whether I want to or not! It's my job, I'm not going to think about it long enough to develop negative feelings.”

His voice wavered as he added, “Termytes can smell that sort of thing coming a mile away.” Piecewise looked up again to note the tension in Pavlov's face.

“There's a few Virusytes that are opposed to their job, there's nothing wrong with that.”

“Well, I refuse to be one of them.”

Pavlov stood up sharply, and Piecewise looked up with concern in their eye.

“I can run some tests to rule out some possibilities, at the very least...?”

“No, no. Enough of that, I've got work to do.”