After the Fall speculative fic

For all intents and purposes Angela ought to be her usual, bubbly self. But she wasn't.

Darkstar had no idea what was wrong with her.

It wasn't as if he had never seen her upset before. He had seen her sobbing over something as trivial as learning her favorite character had died or whenever one of the children had to be exterminated due to the instability of its cell-culture.

But he had never seen her like this.

Instead of the gray-skinned ray of sunshine who was all smiles and excited chatter, she was little more than a silent shell. She was beyond upset.

She was inconsolable.

And he had no idea why. He contemplated the possibility that she was becoming unstable, that like his first attempts, she was about to come apart and dissolve into fleshy goop.

He dismissed the notion when the bioscanner showed nothing of note. No excessive cell-degeneration, no unusual level of mental activities, even her energy signature read normal. Her assigned tasks had been completed, her exam results (while not particularly exceptional) were acceptable.

"Angela, what is the matter with you?" He asked, voice edged with worry and frustration.

The clone simply stared at the floor for what seemed like an eternity before she shrugged.

"Angela, look at me, " Chapped lips pressed into a grim line of disapproval.

She obeyed. Slowly.

He held her gaze, half-expecting to see in her blue eyes a flicker of fear, or concern, or something. Anything but that all too-familiar hopeless look of a broken spirit.

"I don't know, Sir," She whispered, barely audible. "It's like I woke up and all was wrong with the world. Like no matter what I do I'm never going to be happy ever again."

Darkstar pressed her for more information. Had she done anything unusual? Had she read anything particularly unpleasant? Had she gotten into a disturbing discussion with anyone? Had this happened in one go or had it been building up for a while?

It took more and more time for her to respond to each question. She sounded unsure, confused, a little angry even. Her steady energy signature showed no indication of the strain his questioning was putting on her.

"I DON'T KNOW!" She abruptly cut in mid-question with a shrill shriek. Her hands tore at her hair, eyes aglow in fury while she continued to scream "I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW!"

Strong arms encircled her. They held her against a broad chest while she heard his voice murmur "Calm down, calm down. It's alright, Angela. It's alright."

Eventually she stopped struggling and slumped against him. Out of breath and with her cheeks wet with tears, she mumbled "I'm sorry, Sir. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Don't worry about that, Angela. Just keep taking care of the children. I'll find out what's wrong with you," Darkstar promised.

He doesn't want to have to start from scratch with a brand new clone. It was more than mere convenience's sake. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he had grown attached to her. He had gotten used to her, to this version of her.

A new clone meant a blank slate, new programming, new experiences. It would be her and yet it wouldn't be her.

Would she take her duties as seriously? Would she be a fanatic? Would she see him as a figure of authority and keep a professional distance? Or would she see him the way the rest of the universe saw him?

A monster.

No. Darkstar won't be taking that chance. He'll figure this out. He'll find out what caused this sudden change in Angela's behavior.

Elsewhere, in another reality, Jerome sneezed.