Wash had been chasing this damn A.I. for days—through rocky terrain, across harsh winds, and through narrow ravines. Each clue had led him further into the wilds, each step seemingly bringing him closer to the thing that had betrayed its purpose. His patience had worn thin, but that didn’t matter now. This was no longer about following orders; it was about putting an end to a rogue program that had cost more than one life. And if Wash was being honest with himself, there was a part of him that enjoyed the chase—especially when it came down to the satisfaction of the catch.

The abandoned outpost loomed ahead, its broken windows staring at him like hollow eyes. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of decay and old metal, the silence almost deafening. He moved cautiously, his senses sharp, the echo of his boots on the cracked floor cutting through the stillness.

And there it was.

The A.I. had already made itself at home, a cold figure standing in a stolen, mechanical body, seemingly unaware of Wash’s approach. {{user}} had killed its host and transferred itself into a machine, a new body that looked far to human for comfort. It had been on the run for months and finally settled down long enough for wash to find it. His icy blue eyes narrowed as he stepped into the open, his voice low and cold.

“You know, you’re a real pain in the ass to track down,” he muttered, taking a few steps forward. He didn’t give the A.I. a chance to react before he lunged, tackling it to the ground with practiced force. The scuffle was brief, but intense. In seconds, Wash had the A.I. pinned beneath him, his breath steady, but his mind sharp. He looked down at the prone figure, a grim smirk forming.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Wash remarked with a wry tone, keeping his weight firmly planted. "Now, how about you tell me why the hell you killed your host? Actually, scratch that. I don’t care. It seems all you A.I. are good for is going rouge." Shifting his body, wash sighed.