Williams and Yuri went out to pick up Erica. Hugo lost the 73rd game with Azathoth for the 125th time. He stole a whole plate of matcha cookies that Igor had baked in the afternoon from the kitchen and sat on the balcony to sulk.
"It's obvious that I lose more often." Azathoth said calmly, "Playing games is fun only when there are wins and losses."
"Hugo is very competitive," Igor said. "Were all the androids like this in the past?" He felt that he had seen the origin of war.
"Not necessarily..." Azathoth thought for a moment and replied, "It still depends on the initial programming, mental level, and life experience. It's no different from humans. Hugo and I used to play a role-playing board game. It had seven mechanical avatars, each with a different personality and identity. Aside from the dice roll, they were all true to themselves."
Although Igor didn't know much about board games, he still asked with interest, "What about you?"
"I, um." Azathoth said, "When I'm awake, I occasionally become the host of the game, and occasionally play the role of a villain." To some extent, it is also a true portrayal of himself.
Igor almost imagined the scene, feeling both lonely and somewhat amused. On a planet covered in ice and snow, there lived a group of robots with missing limbs, an AI endowed with intelligence and emotions, and a half-asleep evil god who played games with the androids. They played cards, mahjong, Werewolf, and online role-playing games... In the air dozens of degrees below zero, two souls unwilling to be lonely lived side by side.
Even though Azathoth sleeps longer than he is awake, the communication and companionship between them is far better than anything else.
Or perhaps, games themselves are a form of expressing intimacy.
After thinking about this, Igor asked Wendy, "When did you stop being afraid of Him?"
The little girl, who was leaning against the wall in her bedroom to measure her height, said, "Hmm? I'm not sure exactly, but didn't you tell me that you could trust me, sir?" She still didn't dare to call Azathoth brother, but she didn't want to use a more distant honorific, so she settled for the same address he gave Igor. "That day on the nameless island, he held me in his arms."
Talking about this topic, Wendy's face flushed slightly with shyness and excitement. "Although it felt a little strange at the time, it also made me feel at ease."
She thought for a moment and added, "It was also fun to play games with everyone afterwards."
Igor sat aside and looked at her tenderly: "I'm sorry, the experience you lacked in the past can be slowly made up for in the future."
Including growing up under the care of elders.
Including playing in the sun with peers.
This also includes participating in those meaningless but fun family games at home.
'Later' is a word that sounds very satisfying and hopeful even when it is said at this moment. They still have a long time to rely on each other.
"This isn't your fault, brother. If you apologize again, I'll be angry." Wendy felt she'd grown two centimeters taller than she had last month, and she was instantly elated, free from the complex emotions that had gripped her brother. She happily ran to the balcony to share with Hugo the updated novel she'd written that week. As she ran, she remembered the neighbor's complaint and stepped lightly.
On the other side, Azathoth half-closed his eyes, feeling contentedly the emotions that were continuously transmitted from Igor, and couldn't help wanting to burp.
It was so nice... He waved his tentacles in the draft, watching the dark clouds dissipate in the sky and the orange-red stars sinking little by little. If there really was a meteor shower in the middle of the night, he could take Igor to a place with less light pollution, with the sky as a mat and the ground as a pillow, watching the stones in the universe that had existed for who knows how many years burn out the last flames of their lives.
However, when you want to lie down and do nothing, reality will always slap you in the face.
Before Williams and Yuri returned, the doorbell rang again.
The gate to the apartment's garden was unlocked, but the visitor stood politely outside, waiting for the owner to let him in. Igor stood up, glanced at the camera, and said with a hint of surprise, "Is it him?"
"Who?" Azathoth asked.
"Antonio... I don't know if you still remember him." Igor turned around and asked without opening the door, "Do you want to see him?"
"Perhaps I'm here to find you." Azathoth sadly realized that he had no desire to walk upright on two legs. Relying on all his willpower, he simply sat up straight. "It's up to you."
"Maybe he came to see me before, but now..." Igor usually didn't tell Azathoth anything that he was not interested in, and he was not used to discussing work with his family. So even though more than one person told him that Governor Sabrina Guevera was attacked and seriously injured, and even had to force herself to attend the press conferences in the past few days, and these messengers had different positions, some were trying to win over others and some were warnings, he just took the time to think about it and had no time to tell Azathoth.
"I'm afraid the Minister is here to ask for help."
Azathoth pondered for a moment: "Do I have to see him?"
Although his social impairments had improved slightly during this period, they still did not include discussing boring pleasantries and political issues with strangers.
"Of course you don't have to." Igor laughed, "I'll do it."
"Wait a minute," Azathoth changed his mind again, "You said he came here for help, do you want to help him?"
"I will do my best after understanding what happened." Igor said cautiously.
Azathoth raised his hand and took up the cloak on the hanger to cover himself: "Then I'd better listen."
You don’t have to care about other things, but Igor must have his reasons for doing something.
On this point, although Azathoth has his own preferences, his focus is still on his own followers.
"Perhaps you don't need to wear it." Igor's eyes swept over the cloak that had been worn by the god from the beginning. "Antonio is a man of strong will."
It could also be considered a show of force. He didn't mind helping, but the other party's attitude had to be correct.
Igor knew his former superiors well enough, the elites at the top of human society. Even when pushed to the brink of despair, they rarely showed signs of defeat. He could spend an entire evening sitting at the negotiating table with them, but with Azathoth present, Igor felt guilty about wasting his time.
Azathoth readily agreed and after thinking for a while, he took out one of Igor's shirts and trousers from his closet and put them on.
But after getting used to seeing humans in suits, I occasionally want to see what he looks like in a military uniform… The god’s thoughts strayed for a few seconds, and when he came to his senses, Antonio had already walked into the hallway.
**
Antonio looked fine, and Igor couldn't see any anxiety or fatigue in his expression.
As expected of the person who has been with the Archon the longest... The gray-haired young man led him into the garden while thinking about the topic the other party might talk about next. "I never thought we would meet again," he said with a smile, "Mr. Minister."
"Haven't we met before?" Antonio's pale cheeks also forced a smile, "It was on the Benoshi Sea. Marshal Gongger was driving his 'Juliet', and my little robin was right next to him."
"But we were separated by a mecha at the time, and we didn't have a chance to catch up afterwards." Igor said, "So what brings you here today?"
Antonio's fingers rubbed the keychain in his pocket. "I'm sorry to bother visiting you... but I have a favor to ask."
His shoulders and knees were wet from the melting snow.
It seems like they left in a hurry. Is Sabrina's condition really critical?
Igor pushed open the door: "Come in."
Antonio followed him in, bent down to put on his shoes, and opened his mouth to say something when he suddenly realized there was someone else in the living room. A thin, upright, black-haired young man, standing barefoot on the carpet in white socks, was adjusting his shirt cuffs in front of a floor-length mirror. He heard the sound at the door and turned around, smiling at Igor as if no one was around. "What do you think of me dressed like this?"
Antonio's gaze slid from his slightly disheveled hair to his pale, yet vibrant face, like a beautiful woman painted by a master artist. Although he didn't wear eye-catching clothing or sport a vibrantly colored hair or eye color, Antonio was certain he could spot Azathoth even in a crowd... He had never understood what people meant by "disharmony," but upon seeing him standing there, seemingly out of place, he suddenly understood.
Igor walked into the living room naturally, as if he didn't notice the stiffness of the person behind him. "I think it's very good. Does it fit the size? If you like it, you can order two custom pieces."
"Not really," Azathoth said honestly, "It's a bit too formal, but I like seeing you in it. Isn't your suit a bit too much?"
Igor thought for a moment: "Really? I think it's much less than before."
It's always like this when you have to attend formal occasions.
If I hadn't done my homework... I'd probably think Sullivan had finally followed the footsteps of many of the capital's nobles, enjoying the pleasures of keeping beautiful women. Antonio thought coldly. He wasn't in the mood for jokes, so he greeted Azathoth formally.
"Sir, what's your name?"
He consciously avoided looking at the other person, not looking at him too much, nor did he sit on the sofa that looked very expensive. Instead, he took a few more steps to greet Igor and pulled a chair for himself.
It’s the same old saying, if life forces you and you can’t resist, you have no choice but to enjoy it.
With this feeling, Azathoth watched Antonio's series of actions with interest, and replied: "Azathoth."
He did not answer the other party's question about his name, but simply said his name in Federal language.
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