Singularis

Singularis
Aozame32 2012-04-19 07:12 3
Disclaimer: Tekken and all related characters are copyright material owned by Namco Bandai. This is a work of fan-written fiction and is in no way meant for monetary gain.

Author’s Note: This is my first ever one-shot, and I found it particularly fun to write. I’m currently in the process of finishing up another fanfic I’m working on called “My Hero!” and I’ve found myself kinda stuck in a rut. I figured writing a quick, stimulating story would get those writing juices flowing again. :P Well anyway, Yoshimitsu is my favorite character in the Tekken series, and I’ve always been curious about his potential connection to Alisa Bosconovich, so I decided to write a story featuring the two. Please enjoy!



Singularis

“Are you certain there is no other way?”

“I’m afraid not,” answered Dr. Bosconovich, his voice heavy as he finished cleaning the lenses of his glasses. Secretly relieved that he had an excuse not to look at his long-time friend face-to-face, the doctor held the worn spectacles up to the light, leaning back in the wooden chair of his desk before continuing with, “I understand if you’re hesitant to go through with it, but I really am out of options. We’ve come so far, and it would be a huge setback to stop now. It’s a delicate process, and you’re the only person I trust with this, my friend. And, honestly, you’re the only one with the capabilities for this type of procedure.”

“… Very well,” replied Yoshimitsu, nodding in acceptance, “I owe you my life, after all. It’s the least I can do.” He crossed his arms in resignation and leaned against a nearby filing cabinet in Dr. Bosconovich’s reclusive laboratory office.

“Thank you, Yoshimitsu.” Dr. Bosconovich stood and placed a hand on Yoshimitsu’s armored shoulder to express his gratitude, knowing that small gesture would never be enough. He then turned, saying, “I have everything already set up. She’s in the other room. I’ll leave you to it, then. Be careful.”

Yoshimitsu watched Dr. Bosconovich exit the lab and his thoughts then turned to their previous discussions about this very dilemma. He somehow knew it would come to this; he was prepared. He smirked a little underneath the skeletal mask covering his face, trying to contemplate why this feeling of nervousness still persisted. Dr. Bosconovich had explained the entire thing to him more than once, so why was he scared?

“Well then,” Yoshimitsu said aloud to himself, hoping the sound of his own determination would give him the resolve he needed. He made his way out of the main laboratory and into the nearest containment room.

The automatic glass door sighed softly with a whoosh as it slid open to let him through, revealing a large chamber lined with various computer terminals and monitoring devices. The lighting from the ceiling reflected off of the shining surface of his armor, a suit of impressive technical prowess that had been built by Dr. Bosconovich. Yoshimitsu’s eyesight, fed through an electronic HUD, quickly scanned the room. The room was dark except for the few lights shining on the center, and the low hum of the many computers gave the space an unfeeling ambiance. Yoshimitsu then turned his attention to the center of the room. There, on a medical operating table, rested Dr. Bosconovich’s greatest creation: a complete replica of his deceased daughter. The android, like its inspiration, had been named Alisa Bosconovich. Her hair, the color of cherry blossoms, was fashioned in an asymmetrical style, and her very human-looking body was clad in a dress of various shades of purple. As he stepped closer, Yoshimitsu noticed a couple white flowers in her hair, admiring at just how delicate the decoration made her look. This copy was perfect, no doubt.

However, as Dr. Bosconovich had explained to Yoshimitsu earlier, Alisa was unlike any other android. She would not simply be a robotic double of his late daughter. This android, Alisa, would be able to reflect on the subtleties and nuances of the human condition. She would be able to teach herself new things, to constantly adjust to new environments and, above all, she would eventually be able to create her own emotions. And yet, there was a problem. Alisa would need a foundation to build upon. She would need a concrete understanding of what it is to be a human being before setting off into the world. This idea, so simple to humans, contains an overwhelming amount of data, the doctor had pointed out, and there was no way he could program it all himself without countless hours crunching numbers. On the other hand, if one was able to integrate their own experience with her memory banks, she would be able to extract the information necessary to create the foundation she’d need. Yoshimitsu, a cybernetic being, had been gifted with the capability to store and transfer huge amounts of data, and so he was just the man for the job.

‘Dr. Bosconovich said the process should be simple,’ Yoshimitsu thought to himself, taking a seat at the computer terminal beside the slumbering android. Following the doctors direction, Yoshimitsu began to undo the buckles and clasps that held his exoskeleton-like armor to his torso. The relatively cool air felt refreshing against his warm, exposed skin. He didn’t bother removing the gauntlets and shoulder guards covering his arms, knowing that all he needed to do was plug a few cables into the ports that aligned the nape of his neck and upper spine. He had no trouble reaching back and plugging the wiry cables in one-by-one, but even after having done this many times before, the awareness of the cables and the clicking sounds they made as they clasped onto his nervous system sent shivers down his backbone.

Shaking his head as if to readjust his thoughts, Yoshimitsu then took up the other set of cables in his gloved hands and turned to Alisa. Her human appearance alone was enough to make him hesitant to disturb her. He marveled at how lifelike she looked. Very carefully, he turned her on her side and began searching for the plug-ins on her back. Dr. Bosconovich had assured him that Alisa would remain inactive throughout the entire process, but a persistent sense of unease loomed over Yoshimitsu regardless. Wondering if there was a possibility that he was worrying too much, Yoshimitsu then proceeded to connect Alisa to the computer terminal. Once finished, he adjusted her arms into what at least looked like a comfortable position and then took another look at the cables that were now plugged into her back. In an odd way, the sight was almost comforting to him. As a man who was mechanically enhanced with a robotic left arm and a rather invasive interface with a complex suit of armor, it was rather pleasant to feel so human in comparison to a complete automaton like Alisa.

Everything in place, Yoshimitsu approached the computer terminal and entered the correct commands to begin the integration process. According to Dr. Bosconovich, with this program, Yoshimitsu would be able to give Alisa the basic framework of human emotion and social interaction based on his past experiences. Yoshimitsu didn’t quite understand how it would work entirely, but he had never known his friend to make a mistake.

Taking one last calming breath, Yoshimitsu pushed the button to start and took a standing position beside Alisa, hoping for the best. Yoshimitsu glanced over at the computer display and watched the percentage of completion move along slowly, but surely. Then, as if suddenly remembering a forgotten dream or childhood memory, Yoshimitsu felt it. The computer began digging into his mind, compressing and transferring innumerable chunks of data. To his relief, however, the feeling was not overwhelming, and it left him with nothing worse than a strange itching sensation. Everything seemed to going along swimmingly. And then, without warning…

“Hhhnnnn!” Yoshimitsu suddenly felt his core tense, the fibers of his upper and lower abdominals ripple and pulse as if violently coming to life. He grasped at the sides of the bed to keep himself upright, his legs shaking, not having expected the physical awareness of integration to overtake him so suddenly. He looked over at Alisa’s face then, her pink hair stirring as, much to his surprise, she began to awaken. It almost felt like they were both waking up, Yoshimitsu noticed, and the sensation caused a raspy gasp to escape his lips. Alisa’s green eyes opened to the world, lazy at first, but then instantly filled with wonder.

“Y-You weren’t suppose to wake up!” The sudden burst of consciousness sent Yoshimitsu reeling. His gut wrenched and he felt as if he was going to be sick on the floor.

“Who…?” asked her soft voice, the tone decidedly surprised, cold curiosity filling her existence. She began to sit up then, filling Yoshimitsu with a sense of vertigo.

“Me. N-no, you!” His senses bewildered, Yoshimitsu found it increasingly difficult to comprehend exactly where he was in the space of the room. He was standing next to the bed, and yet he could feel Alisa’s presence as if it were his own. He felt like he was in two places at once on a whole new level, nothing like the ninja tricks he had played on past enemies.

“A-Alisa!” Yoshimitsu gripped her by the arms, his arms, feeling the smoothness of her artificial flesh in their hands. It was all starting to feel the same, and his heart was racing with each wave of confusing amalgamation. He could feel the cold bed underneath him as if he was the one lying upon it. Her green eyes were his eyes, and yet, as he was looking down into them, he could see her standing above himself at the same time. He was suddenly on the table, looking up at this armored figure looming above him. Logic dictated that, if Yoshimitsu was looking up at this dark, armored figure, then it must be Alisa. She seemed familiar, yet her face was covered by a mask. The muscles of her bare chest appeared taut, as if weary with struggle. Her broad shoulders blocked the light from the ceiling, and yet, he could feel the armored shoulder guards and cloth against the skin of those same shoulders, his shoulders, their shoulders.

Her quivering hands, one robotic and one covered in an armored glove, reached down to touch Yoshimitsu’s face, and then he all at once found himself looking down at Alisa, his hands gently cupping her face as he stood above her. His fingers were shaking, and Alisa could somehow feel his heart pounding in her robotic chest impossibly. Wave after wave of new sensations surrounded her. She was feeling more and more with each batch of data transferred from Yoshimitsu’s mind into her internal processor. Their thought patterns were beginning to align then. Yoshimitsu could sense her miraculous alarm at what was happening.

“We’re the… same person!” they both exclaimed simultaneously, shaken at the revelation. The concepts of “he” and “she” were gone, and soon even the idea of plurality itself faded with each passing second.

“Aah! What is this?!” they asked at once, panic beginning to sink in. “I-It’s starting to hurt! I want it to stop!”

The unnatural sound of Alisa’s youthful cries resonating synchronously with the sonorous vibrations of Yoshimitsu’s deep, mechanized speech rang through the dimly-lit containment room. Hands reached out to touch the bare chest of Yoshimitsu’s body as if groping for a sanctuary, pressing their fingertips against the skin and muscle. They could both feel the sense of their slender robotic arms reaching out in front of them to touch their flesh curiously, and yet they could also feel those robotic hands being pressed against their own chest at the same time. They felt everything together, a whole new existence, amazed at the sudden, new sensation of having both a mortal and artificial body. They grew more and more aware of the millions of moving robotics and fluid coolant clashing with springy sinews and brittle bone.

“I-It feels so warm!” they exclaimed, “B-Blood! It’s everywhere, inside me! And all this grief! I-Is this what life is?!”

Their robotic form then abruptly lurched up from its position on the bed, as if trying to escape from a nightmare. The tugging cables imbedded in their back, connecting them to the powerful computer, pushed a wheeled monitoring device into a nearby tray table, causing various tools to crash to the ground loudly. Their android form subsequently collided with the shivering husk of their mortal body and they both fell to the hard floor, enveloped by an all-encompassing fervor.

The frigid floor was their only refuge from the sensation of fiery heat under their flesh, and they continued to lament at their sudden, violent existence. A guttural groan broke free from the throat of their masculine form while their fully-mechanized body shrieked and gripped themselves tightly. Their senses were bombarded with concepts of loss, resentment, emptiness, and the stiffening reality of an artificial creation.

“I’m afraid! I’m afraid of what’s going to happen!” their dual voices admitted, “This world is all so new!”

“Why am I here?!”

“Why was I created?!”

“… This sword is going to kill me…!”

‘… Sword?’ he thought, groggy and distant, ‘… I know these thoughts…’

“I try so hard to stave its hunger, but it’s pointless!” they continued to scream in utter despair, revealing their deepest fears, “I don’t want to give in! How am I suppose to help all of those people when I can hardly help myself?!”

‘You must never give up!’ His thoughts were painful, a struggle like none he had ever endured, “If you give up now, everything will have been for nothing!”

“What am I doing?!” the two voices finally asked, their words thick with fear.

“I’m fighting until the end!” Yoshimitsu shouted in reply, sitting up suddenly.

All at once, he felt himself and nothing else. He was covered in sweat, and his arms and legs felt weak, but his own nonetheless. The rush of blood to his head sent him falling back onto the cold floor, his heart pounding beneath his ribcage like a drum signaling retreat. He gulped in air with each full breath, and a spasm shot up his legs as if his nerves were firing off in protest from such taxing stimulation. He then opened his heavy eyes and turned slightly to look at the android girl lying next to him, both of them tangled in cables.

“Hello!” greeted Alisa, cheerful and apparently unaware of the fact that she was lying in a mess on the floor, “My name is Alisa Bosconovich! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Her green eyes seemed to almost sparkle, their beauty matching her gentle voice.

Yoshimitsu nodded, unsure of what to say. His cybernetic eyesight scanned Alisa, failing to pick up any abnormalities.

“Welcome to the world, Alisa. I am Yoshimitsu, leader of the Manji Clan,” he finally responded. The words felt strange in his mouth, but he was too spent to care.

Smiling politely, Alisa then sat up and quickly took on an air of concern at what her display was telling her.

“Oh my! Your pulse and blood pressure are elevated, sir. Are you alright?”

Yoshimitsu didn’t answer, content to gather his energy and muse at Alisa’s oblivious politeness. In no hurry to rise, he looked up at the computer display from his spot on the floor and read the words aloud.

“Download Complete.”

Comments

  1. And, yes, I was referring to Yoshimitsu and Alisa as somewhat of soul mates from your story too. ^_^

    2015-08-21 10:15
  2. I recently read this on Fanfiction.net . . . It was this morning, actually! Hehehe. :3

    So I knew I recognised this title!

    This was a very intense story. I've had a dream of having a simultaneous experience with somebody I used to visit on the astral plane, that left me with the biggest headache ever! O.o This reminded me greatly of that, and I was amazed to read this, since it had reminded me of my spiritual experience.

    I know,  I know. . . I sound totally nutters to everybody right now! O_O In another words, I just had a dream like this fanfic where I was one and the same with the person I had a feeling might've been my twin soul*, in other words: Same soul, two separate bodies in the waking world, but sometimes united as one while still being two on the astral plane.

    * before that term became perversed in recent years by hopelessly naive romantics. . . Don't mean to sound harsh, I just mean they're essentially commercialising the term to get money out of the heartbroken/lovesick/those with limerence. Spiritualists will get what I mean though. I firmly believe you're not meant to be romantically involved with your twin soul, in other words. ^_^

    2015-08-21 07:33
  3. Marvellous! Namco themselves should hire you! I'm dead serious.

    2012-04-19 17:21

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