“They spread what they knew to the masses and even built dedicated dungeons specifically to give aspiring cultivators the opportunity to face appropriately perilous challenges in exchange for appropriately helpful rewards…”

It pointed to her bayonet, “Like unlocking the hidden potential of a weapon for clearing the first Trial of Solitude, for example. Unfortunately, the very first group to clear every dungeon had their own ambitions, and left for the west to found their own country - the so-called Divine Empire, or as you now know it, the Pateirian Empire. Soon enough, the Divine Empire’s cultivator-army marched on the Triumvirate’s cities, and they didn’t leave a whole lot behind. No buildings, no people, nothing… A total genocide...”

Sigma trailed off, its eye-light blinking, its legs scraping against the stone as hatred and anger crept into its voice, “Just us. Just the dungeons. ‘Cause they couldn’t destroy us. So they locked away as many of us as they could, wiped us from history. Wouldn’t be surprised if the so-called Divine Emperor was just one of those subhuman thugs, if these Parasites were just another attempt to destroy us for good.”

This was… A little much information even for her to process all at once, and more importantly, it still didn’t answer her question. For now, she decided to just lead the machine on and hope it gave an answer. 

“I… I appreciate the historical insight, but that still does not answer my question.”

“...I’m sorry,” Sigma whispered. “I don’t know. You will struggle, you will grow stronger. They will give no quarter, they will concede at no point. I have heard them speak to one another, they have been conditioned to think of those loyal to this country as inhuman devils.”

Its head twitching, its eye-light flickering, and its body moving so smoothly that it looked unnatural, Sigma stood from its seat. It towered over her, staring with that twitching head, its body poised, yet it didn’t lash out. It still kept speaking, gesticulating in a manner almost identical to the way the Sage did when he gave the occasional speech. It was wild, bombastic, impassioned - completely out of character for this self-described emotionless automaton. Had her brief connection to it really influenced it so much?

“Pateirians could witness their Divine Emperor skinning infants alive, and they would rationalize it to somehow be a good thing, or to somehow be the fault of those evil foreigners!” it exclaimed with a jovial, mocking tone that made it sound like the automaton regarded Pateirians as amusing savages. It was… Unsettlingly familiar. She was almost certain that Sigma was reciting some mashup of multiple speeches from multiple different commanders. The machine grew increasingly unstable with every word it spoke, its voice degrading to the point of sounding like a degraded wax cylinder recording. 

It ranted and ranted, and Zefaris just… Didn’t pay attention. Her focus had shifted entirely to Sigma’s stance, which had progressively grown more aggressive. She had cocked Pentacle’s hammer and retrieved a coin from her pocket, and now was only moments from putting a bullet in the golem’s head to finally shut it up.

Then… It froze. For a moment, Sigma grew utterly still, the light in its eye died. Moments later its motion resumed, the stone skin cracking like that of a leper with each movement, myriad chips of black stone sloughing off in layers. The eye relit a bright orange, and with it, a crack in Sigma’s face that mirrored a toothy grin. Sigma laughed the laugh of a dying man, a man whose lungs are full of blood, even though it had neither lungs nor blood.

“I-hi-hi see now,” it said, its voice as clear as a bell. It sounded like it was struggling to contain exhilarated laughter. “You’ve made a liar of me. I said I could cope, but…”

The golem raised its right arm, and alongside it so did a pillar rise from the floor. Both the arm and the pillar shuddered, and both collapsed - the pillar back into the floor, and Sigma’s arm into tiny little pieces on the ground. The grin-like crack on its face grew wider, and it let out a deep laugh.

“It appears that I cannot. I opened my shell to your will, and this is what it did. To prevail through sheer force of will, before the physical battle is even waged. I see now that you’re more than a soldier, more than a killer!” the crumbling automaton roared in rapturous revelation. 

“So here is my answer to your question, my true answer, without elaborate political context or bullshit about indoctrination,” it said, finally grabbing Zef’s full attention. “Never before have Ikesians had their own nation-state, and after this, you might never get that opportunity again - even during the era of the Three Kings, you were a minority. If you were to die in defence of that ideal, it will not have been in vain. Now, before I crumble, stand and fight!”

At last, Sigma dropped into a low stance with its good arm reared back, staring Zefaris down as it slowly crumbled away to a stone skeleton. She stood from her seat, taking a breath and exhaling Fog onto the coin. When she saw the coating of Fog cling to the coin she also murmured, “Homunculus Eye…” 

Something told her that the automaton’s sorry physical state wouldn’t do much to impede its abilities, and so she would gamble on the coin.

“Fine,” she said, holding the now-glowing coin out in her outstretched hand. “For good luck.”

Sigma gave a sharp, short nod, remarking, “Suit yourself, a flash of light and a loud noise won’t do anything.”

With her thumb, Zefaris flipped the coin into the air so that it would fly over the golem and end up behind it, watching its ascent, her finger squarely on Pentacle’s trigger. The coin reached the apex of its flight and hung there for a fifth of a second, emitting a brief flash of light before it continued. She still bided her time, waiting until she heard it whistling and noticed the light from it flashing a second time.