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Description
There was this...ungodly hum from the main room early in the morning- so early that moonlight was still streaming through the high windows, only to be muted from the moving light of the screens.
Most still had muted talking, from some obnoxious tv show, one was playing the details of the rescue and recover, and another was....oddly playing white noise- that must have been what the hum was coming from but, Omega made no move to silence it.
...in fact, he really wasnt moving at all. He was still in that one place, tucked into a corner of the old burgundy couch. Was he asleep, was he...out of his body again- something he did very rarely, and usually only to control another AI.
Tucked away in one of the back corners, it seems like the humming is disturbing that big black van, and she shifts a little to accomodate being snuggled up close against a white sports car- but she's stiff.
Something's wrong, *she* can feel it...
It was sure to have kept anyone in that warehouse awake, and sure enough, the Russian had stiffly gotten out of the bed to try and see what was going on,
"Sasha's waking up...we need mohre anti-bacteerial pads,"
...usually, there'd be some sort of quip, a small remark in that snarky british tone, but...nothing.
"...do you hear me?"
He takes a step or two closer.
"...Hallo? Omega?"

Description
There was this...ungodly hum from the main room early in the morning- so early that moonlight was still streaming through the high windows, only to be muted from the moving light of the screens.
Most still had muted talking, from some obnoxious tv show, one was playing the details of the rescue and recover, and another was....oddly playing white noise- that must have been what the hum was coming from but, Omega made no move to silence it.
...in fact, he really wasnt moving at all. He was still in that one place, tucked into a corner of the old burgundy couch. Was he asleep, was he...out of his body again- something he did very rarely, and usually only to control another AI.
Tucked away in one of the back corners, it seems like the humming is disturbing that big black van, and she shifts a little to accomodate being snuggled up close against a white sports car- but she's stiff.
Something's wrong, *she* can feel it...
It was sure to have kept anyone in that warehouse awake, and sure enough, the Russian had stiffly gotten out of the bed to try and see what was going on,
"Sasha's waking up...we need mohre anti-bacteerial pads,"
...usually, there'd be some sort of quip, a small remark in that snarky british tone, but...nothing.
"...do you hear me?"
He takes a step or two closer.
"...Hallo? Omega?"