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Legion stands stock still, not even the wind effecting it's 'cloak'. In the time it took to blink the Legion had already transferred data across the vast sea of information welled within the black wisp of a exoskeleton. Each voice inside conferring the same parcel of knowledge until all had agreed. Much like a computer, it took but milliseconds. "What is our purpose?" It asked, coming to a conclusion shortly thereafter.

The Legion was barily more cognitive than the other two, however it had a slight advantage. The raw human emotions and memories, vestiges of the Legion's birth, allowed the creature to remember, store, and process data. They were certainly not on par with a human mind, serving more like a simple computer. Their black talons gripped the handle of the glaive as they 'watched' the totem. They could not comprehend curiosity, but they were certainly feeling something akin to it. The emotion was processed by the collective, found invalid, and was deleted. No need for curiosity. Their head turned to stare at the copy-cat blank, somewhat of a companion though no memories existed of it. Just like the other blank. The collective resolved to refer to the other blanks as Blank_A and Blank_B. Satisfied. Again the emotion was processed. Then deleted. Satisfaction was irrelevant.

The Blank that had repeated the words of the being that was known as Legion simply stood where it was. It swayed to each side with the light breeze that passed through the Valley of Screams, not having the mind to understand that ability to hold itself upright. For a moment it seemed to turn to face the one called Legion, if the blunt end of that strange red pointed 'hat' could be called the front.

Once again, the words that it 'heard' were repeated in the exact same tone as the Blank before it. Not truly remembering the words themselves so much as they were absorbed into this empty canvas of a Blank. "What is our purpose?" It paid little to no mind, not that it had one, to the other blank that had bumped itself into a rock wall and then simply stop in front of it for more or less a lack of a direction to continue moving as it lacked the ability to think to turn around.

The Blank continued staring at the wall taking in details that it forgot seconds later, then the others talked and it floated backward and turned slightly and as the words continued it turned once more and floated until it reached the group. Red. Again it was erased immediately. Red. Erased. Red. Erased. It was persistently there now as a part of the Blank. It didn't know it was there until it showed itself every time it was erased it was unmovable from its psyche as it were just like the words spoken by the others but something for more complex was happening below the surface of the ingraining of the words the syllables of the words and the letters were patching themselves in and searching the vast emptiness of its primal logs for things that were similar and it continued to patch it all together. "Red..." A whisper came from it and the Unknown forgot that it said it and thus it sat there drifting about in the same spot but always seeming to be moving shifting in some way even when it was still it was static. The movement was slowly being learned and improved upon forgotten but logged away in the subconscious for primal use and it did make use of it though it wasn't readily noticeable it straightened in posture slightly and seemed to stay in one spot instead of floating about the area it wanted to stop at though it didn't know it wanted that the blank mask as blank as ever, unaware that it was seen merely as a letter to Legion and as nothing to the copycat or that it viewed them at all as anything. It didn't know it could see though it could it didn't know it as sight or seeing it could smell but it didn't know it as that or did it know of its hearing or taste hearing it had but it seemed to lack a mouth and couldn't taste but it didn't know that it lacked such basic things. It had a sense of touch but it didn't know what that was it had felt the stone and the pain but didn't categorize it as such. "Red" it whispered again forgetting it said it once more. Red. Red. Red. Red. The word repeated thousands of times over and over again being forgotten and remembered uncountable times per second. The voice in which it spoke was odd, it didn't sound like anything specific it was almost like a trick of the wind that blew near constantly here. The wind was part of existence not that it knew existence and should it suddenly disappear the blank would notice and forget it though it would log mentally unknown to the conscious 'mind' of the Blank. It sat there slowly learning the world about it as the time between its erasing of mind slowly lengthened to a second, but now constantly every second red bombarded it forcing its span longer and longer ripping at it and forcing the barrier to recede. Dragon. Dragon. Dragon. Dragon. This new word ripped at the mind of the Blank ever lengthening the time at which it could have thought. "…Dragon. Red. Red. Dragon. Dragon. Red Dragon Dragon Dragon Dragon..." It whispered out shaking a bit more as information forced itself into its ever growing mind. It was able to understand the forms in front of it now, a basic understanding of their existence it took note of them mainly the red of the copy cat’s head.

The Legion noticed the progression of the other two blanks, and they decided to relabel them. Blank_A would be Red Dragon. Blank_B would be Replica. The new parameters were accepted by the whole. Slowly the collective went through data. Deleting irrelevant files. The coding was slowly coming together and the result would be a being of unemotional resolve and judgement. No mercy. No compassion. No love or hate. No prejudice or pain.

The Legion resolved to absorb more memories and emotions, and would sort through them when the time came. But how? The collective contemplated this for sometime. 'We need not bother with morality.' one suggested. Many of the voices agreed. But a few found this too, distasteful. They were converted through a coded assimilating theorem. They now agreed. Such morality would be unneeded in the collective. 'The innocent shall not be cultivated.' Another said. Agreed. But what qualified one as innocent? The blanks beside them were obviously so.

The Blank that had reached out to touch the one called Legion, was just standing as it was, as if nothing was going on. However, when that large, red claw hand made contact with Legion's being, it sparked a more direct absorption of leeched memories and thoughts from it. That collective of many small voices within, that methodical thought process, everything that currently made Legion what Legion is, was 'scanned' so to speak and replicated completely within the being of of copy cat Blank.

Soon enough, an exact copy of all the many voices and thought from Legion existed within the copy cat, as if they were the originals themselves. Even the labels of 'Red Dragon' and 'Replica' were transfered and the transposing of Legion to the one it had dubbed 'Replica', which was itself but it was Legion as well. This resulted in a self paradox of the newly acquired hive mind that the original Legion did not have.

'We are legion', many voices called out within, 'for we are many'. In direct opposition, a set of voices that did know of the self transposition argued, 'We are Replica'. This continuous mental struggle made the confused thing back up a moment from the other two. It swayed for a moment before both of its red claw hands came up to the sides of its head. The voices that opposed each other were in equal force and neither could simply be deleted and wiped for irrationality or irrelevancy within the false hive mind.

The Blank stared ahead as the other known as the Replica by the Legion, started to be gripped by the pain of it's own conflicted existence. It was about that point that the blank understood of it's own arms and it lifted them up and looked to them taking them in. Erase. It stared at the two mysterious things in front of it, not that it knew that it was two, but deep down it classified it as part of itself. there were thing on the end of it, they were wiggly and the Blank unknowingly the cause it was getting used to the act of movement as it erased once again. "623" the blank said this time the voice a little louder as it moved it's arms experimentally. "623. 623. 623." it repeated absentmindedly the movement shifted it out of place and it drifted near the replica and bumped into it and continued on it's way around the Circle a little more intelligently this time as it examined the structure.

"Illogical, we are the Legion. Therefore you cannot be." The Legion would say, clarifying the Replica's error. The collective watched the copy-cat blank with mild curiousity wondering what would become of the being. Would it tear itself apart in frustration of it's own existence? Or would it resolve the personal dilemma of it's identification.

The black triangle-like head turned to watche the other blank circle the clearing. It seemed much more organized than before and it that was noted. As much as the collective was evolving, so too it seems were the other two. An observer and a participant in this localized experiment of evolution.