Cassiathon withdrew slightly his blade's tip now aimed directly at her chest. "Stay still."
She paused, inclining her head. The motion was disturbingly avian. "You are… Cassiathon Abysswalker. Designation: Reaper-kin. Threat-level: Conditional." The phrase was monotone stated plainly. Then her face cracked, bewilderment washing, over her. "Why do I feel… cold?"
"You're an object " he hissed, the malice, in his tone startling himself. "A weapon developed in a lab. A part of her."
"Her?" Syrinx's eyes flickered slowly. "The… Queen. Vernia Vouw. Source-prime." She uttered the name without awe. With the cold neutrality of a database record. Then she cast her gaze down at her hands flipping them gently. "I am Syrinx. I am… myself." She met his eyes more and the delicate vulnerability, in that stare pierced his heart like broken glass. "You are my Anchor. My… connection. The documents… they mentioned you'd give meaning to my being."
"The documents are incorrect. I have come to terminate your life."
"Why?" The inquiry was not rebellious, but sincerely inquisitive. "My systems are operational. My purpose is… uncertain. Yet ending me appears… counterproductive. You are impaired. Your bio-signature indicates sorrow, anger, cellular exhaustion. Assistance is necessary."
He let out a chuckle. "Help? From you? You're the cause of the harm."
She contemplated this those peculiar eyes observing excessively. "Correlation does not equal causation. I was in stasis. The Cataclysm-event occurred five years, two months and fourteen days before my awakening. Your sorrow has existed longer than I have." She cautiously advanced again disregarding the blade inches from her flesh. "You represent the recognizable data-point, in this unfamiliar setting. Hence you are vital. My Anchor. I refuse to allow you to end me. "I will not harm you either."
"Do you believe you can?" he dared, his strength awakening—the silent force of the End residing deep within his bones.
In response she raised a hand. A subtle golden glow flickered around her fingertips. From the edges of the lab scrambling noises arose. Two massive mutated rad-roaches their shells shining with poison crept into the light. They did not strike. They placed themselves between her and Cassiathon remaining eerily motionless. Guardians.
Command over lesser monsters.
"I don't want to " she murmured gently as the light dimmed. The roaches hurried off. "Clashing with my Anchor is… irrational. It results in… suffering." She placed her hand on her chest above her heart.
Cassiathons thoughts surged. Fury urged him to attack.. The tactician he had grown into recognized what she represented: a living tool. A reflection of the Queen's strength. If he grasped her nature he could uncover a vulnerability. To end her life now would mean eliminating the effective weapon he might ever possess against Vernia Vouw.
He dropped his sword, the power shield fading with a groan. "Remain where I can watch you. Follow my orders precisely. You are no human. You are an instrument. My instrument. For retribution. Do you comprehend?"
She gave a enthusiastic nod. "Guidelines set boundaries. Boundaries create consistency. I comprehend, Anchor Cassiathon."
"Don't address me that way " he growled, spinning around to search for garments or items she might need. "I'm Cass."
"Cass " she said again feeling out the sound. A faint cautious smile appeared on her face. It was the lifelike expression she had shown so far. "Cass."
He threw a found lab-coat at her. "Cover yourself. We're leaving this tomb."