"Perhaps that would be best." He takes solace in that she - it - is not a combat model, not a weapon to be directed as the Capitol sees fit. Or worse, a spy, sent to gather information on Thirteen and funnel it back to the Capitol. Or perhaps that's entirely what she - it - was in the confines of the bunker.

He wants to leave. It's not an uncommon reaction to his running into simulated humanity. It makes him so uncomfortable in seeing those lines of technology and humanity blur that his immediate reaction is to remove himself from the situation. Odd, for a cyborg, he knows. He's struggled with it what feels like his entire life, but the difference is that he started out human. He still has an organic mind, is still himself. Has a soul, if that's something you believe in. The difference is that he has a will all his own. She's just been programmed.

AI's have souls.

Chaud's voice chides him from memory and accompanies a slew of conversations with ProtoMan, concerned for Chaud's safety, thanking Albert for rescuing him.

What's the difference?

"I have to be going." It's better than it was before. Once upon a time Albert wouldn't have even bothered with any social grace for his leave to a robot. He doesn't think about it though. He has far too much to deal with already than to wrestle once again with the differences and disturbing similarities between humans and sufficiently advanced AIs.

He takes a few steps before pausing.

"Keep the jacket, at least until you're repaired."

He's not sure why he does that, but it's another thing he doesn't want to give much thought to.

And then he's gone.