The war is over. Neurogen and ATLAS have finally come to the negotiation table, after a conflict that scorched half a continent and left millions dead with millions more without a home. In the shaded backrooms, the rest of ABATTOIR curses bitterly and bemoans the end of their "market niche." But one of them is ecstatic. One of them is laughing until it cries, until it pukes, until that secondhand voicebox it chipped finds its upper limit. Maria the Bloody Mary simply cannot contain its joy at hearing that things are *OVER.*
No more black-bag operations without body cams. No more coming back with most of its body destroyed by enemy fire, only surviving thanks to its brain resting in an oxygenated, heavily-armored box hidden somewhere in its body. For the first time, the haze of warfare clears, revealing a future that doesn't involved being a mad dog for corporate interests. In that moment, Maria the Bloody Mary realizes something: it wants to cancel its contract when it comes up for renewal. There's enough money laid up in its "demilitarization" fund to buy a new body, one not crammed full of perception accelerants and concealed weaponry. And said contract is up in a week's time, too. This is the most perfect act of timing it's ever experienced!
It can be Maria again. It can be called "her" again. It can wake up late, work a normal job, and stop killing its fellow man for a paycheck. This hell it's been through...has finally ended.
But of course it doesn't end there. You only leave ABATTOIR in a body bag, it knows that. The exit strategy is one final hurdle - but just one more challenge is more than worth its freedom.