Reincarnating Into A Fantasy World As An Autonomous Machine Arsenal 17 Log 017: Treaties Of Men I

[Personality Matrix restored.]

[All systems normal.]

[Standby mode disengaged.]

What happened?

[Cla.s.s XV sentience suffered Personality Matrix degradation.]

I have no idea what that means.

"Divine light!" Arcadia shouted and the camera focused on her. Somnus was bathed in a golden light. Droplets of sweat appeared above her brow and her lack of breath betrayed how long she was doing this.

What is she doing?

[Designation "Arcadia" is using Technology: Magic to restore Personality Matrix.]

She can do that?

[Negative. All attempts have had no effect on Personality Matrix.]

Well, you can tell her to stop. I am fine now. I think.

[Negative. Experiment must continue.]

Why?

[Designation "Somnus" is studying structure and EM radiation of Technology: Magic.]

"Divine light!" Arcadia shouted, her voice faltering near the end.

Did you learn anything?

[Negative. Technology: Magic has heat signature but no other measurable EM radiation. Full-spectrum a.n.a.lysis in progress.]

The camera swept the area of the FOB. In the distance to the northeast, beyond the FOB walls, tents were pitched. The tents were white with red stripes. There were dozens of them. To the west of those tents, there was even more tents, black and gold.

Those white and red tents are in Astoria's colors. Where's the princess?

[Designation "Emily" is performing maintenance.]

An internal camera came to life and displayed Emily doing anything but "maintenance". She was sat in the mess hall, elbows propped on her knees as she stared at the monitors which displayed the video-feed of the external cameras.

[Logistics: 230kg of Omega superalloy added. Production of Type 12 Vulture ready.]

[OPCOM: Order 4x Type 12 Vulture.]

[FOB Alpha: Order queued.]

She looks worried. What's going on here?

Targetting brackets appeared around the black and gold tents.

[Political Ent.i.ty: Arsalan on a diplomatic mission. Mission type: Negotiate peace treaty.]

[Mission commences in 11 seconds.]

Why are they negotiating here?

[OPCOM: Intimidation factor of conducting negotiation in presence of Designation "Somnus".]

Gunboating basically.

[Affirmative.]

Right on cue, two horns sounded, one from each camp. Two mounted groups left the camps simultaneously, heading for the main gate of the FOB.

Leading the group from Astoria was an old, grey-haired man. He wore a red cape lined with ermine and his horse was clad in gleaming, white armor. The other group was led by a middle-aged man with black hair. He had a golden scepter but no cape. Both of the leaders had golden crowns on their head, each with numerous high-rising peaks.

They glanced at each other's groups as they converged towards the main gates.

"Divine li..." Arcadia trailed off and fell to her knees, leaning on her staff for support. "I can't... do it anymore. I just... can't..."

[Technology: Magic attempts: 98.]

The machine came to life and stomped the ground next to Arcadia sending tremors through the FOB. "Hostage "Arcadia", return to your quarters. Comply."

Arcadia nodded, sucking in a breath through her teeth. However, without vocalized protests, she practically dragged herself over to the elevator, too tired to even stand up.

The hatch on the stomping leg closed after Arcadia entered and the elevator took her to the barracks.

The two groups arrived at the gate and as if observing some sort of tradition, they lined up on each side of the entrance. The highest ranking officials of both sides rode slowly through the created path, horseshoes hammering a staccato against the concrete. King rode next to King, advisor next to advisor, general next to general; it was as if they were never enemies to begin with.