“Who… are you?” the young man asked, “Wait, that doesn’t matter! You just… knocked him out… Oh creators… He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me…”
VII sighed, putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder. The man flinched, staring wide-eyed at VII as she removed her hand, “Calm down, man. Why don’t you start from the beginning? Why did he want to kill you? Why was he accusing you of… I don’t know, ruining his chances with a few people?”
“Oh… yeah. That… He… wasn’t really lying. I kind of went behind his back and told them about… him. He’s been sleeping around, but he’s been using his influence and some supposed achievements. But he’s been lying about them. He said that he was a major part of the first defensive battle for the fortress, but he never did anything. He just told everyone else to defend while he went to get ‘reinforcements.’ I had to rally everyone, direct the battle, and keep the casualties to a minimum.
“Then, once the fighting’s over, he prances over to us and claims that his reinforcements were instrumental to ‘boosting morale,’ as if it was all his achievement.” The young man had pulled himself up and was leaning against one of the endless huts, “So… who are you?” he asked.
VII smiled, sketching a little bow, “You can call me VII. I have other names, other titles, but I doubt you would want to hear them. They’re quite boring,” she replied, noting the young man’s suspicious expression, “I’ve given my name, why don’t you do the same?”
“Oh yeah… I forgot about that,” he replied, making an attempt at standing but failing, “Uhm… I’m still a bit dizzy. Do you mind if I sit here?” VII shook her head, “Thank you. Anyway, I’m Kile. I… don’t have a last name. If I can ask, why are you out at this time, anyway? I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors and I doubt you haven’t either…”
VII shook her head, “I actually haven’t. I’m a mechamancer who recently arrived here after hearing about so much mana- I mean clocksteel was being collected. I wanted to build a new mech from a share of it. So, what kind of rumors have been circulating?”
Kile gave her an odd look, one that VII had given her more battle lustful siblings, one that asked if the other was crazy for being so flagrantly casual about their own mortality. Kile left his apparent misgivings unsaid, however, and merely shook his head, “I’ve heard stories being passed around the canteens and the poker tables about immortal undead knights. They aren’t… vicious or unrestrained like others. They can organize with but a gesture of their master. They can also break into wild, unrestrained violence in an instant.
“Some people are saying that mages are disappearing, being turned into new undead. There’s also been some sort of coup, with a trio of undead taking power. If I were you, I’d get out while you can. You aren’t stuck here like the rest of us are,” Kile grumbled.
“Sorry, friend, but I’ve got a reason to be here and a few grave walkers aren’t going to stop me from doing what I want,” VII replied, “But you wanted me to tell you why I’m out here, didn’t you?” Kile sighed, nodding, “Well, I’m trying to get my friend into… a world that she is not familiar with. It’s dangerous, and I don’t know how to help her understand that. She’s pretty… ignorant about her own mortality.”
“Something you’ve got in common,” Kile muttered.
VII turned to him, “What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he replied. VII knew it was a little bard, but she let it slide, “Well, if you know the dangers of this ‘world,’ then why don’t you just let her do what she wants and help her when she’s about to step on the dragon’s tail?”
“If only it were that easy,” VII muttered, leaning against the same hut Kile was leaning against, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to follow her to… where she’s going,” she replied, voice softening.
Kile hummed in thought, “Then can’t you get someone else to help her? If you’re so familiar with it, then you should know someone you trust, right?” VII thought about it for a moment, and the perfect person popped into her mind. Her mother. She grew a massive smile and almost ran away when she skidded to a halt and turned to Kile, still sitting against the hut, “Umm… can you help me? Also, do you have a way for me to… avoid him?” he asked, gesturing to the knight.
VII smiled walking back to help the young man up, “If you want help, find a man named Fanrik Notchings. He’s the father of my friend, another one from the first, and she says he’s a good man.”
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*=====*
Pandora tore into the metal and steel of the enemy before him, using his weapon to pry the large armor plate covering the beast’s side open. With a crack, whatever device held the plate secure broke, letting the plate be torn away. Seeing the internals of his enemy, with the thousands of gears that clicked and clacked in near-perfect efficiency.
He tore into the gears, scattering metal all about. As the last vestiges of will left the machine, something broke within him. He staggered back, nearly toppling into the sand, and fell to a knee. Something was happening, and he did not know what it was. His soul, ever growing, surged forward. He, what was once a mere undead with a purpose given by his creator and mistress, suddenly became much, much more.
Everything suddenly made sense. Those weird noises that he vaguely knew as communication suddenly became something different. It became English, a language whose native lands could not be reached no matter how far he walked. The drive of battle stopped controlling his mind, stopped being an addiction. It became a goal and a means, but not the ends any longer.
At his revelations, he fell back, coming to sit on the sandy earth. His siblings around him, his battle brothers and sisters, stared at him oddly. He knew it all along, but he never really understood it. His siblings had reached the same place he was a few days after he did. They were only a few days from reaching his level. It was… odd.
They mulled around, expressing their frustration at not being able to fight anymore, when something strange happened. Metal pods began to descend from the sky. They were small, no bigger than their own necromatter hearts, but they moved with true purpose. There were three hundred of them, one for each of the Talonecs. Pandora watched as the pods of metal sought out a Talonec and latched onto their shoulder with small metal arms.
Soon enough, one found its way over to him, perching itself on his shoulder. Pandora-- a name he had to change at some point, since he was supposed to be the box, not the lady-- plucked the little drone from his shoulder and held it out in front of him. It was… odd. It was was a teardrop with a bulge at the bottom in shape, but there were also a pair of arms that protruded from below the ‘face’ of the drone, arms that were quite dexterous with its quintet of fingers and quite powerful with the sheer quantity of hydraulics in the arms.
The face was not as odd as the drone’s shape, with a single eye in the center that glowed a dull blue light. There were a speaker in the corner of its head, though its purpose was beyond Pandora, “Hey there, buddy,” Pandora said, his voice coming out as a metallic rasp. The little drone tilted to the side for a moment before flying around him, its eye mimicking a human’s smiling eyes. It stopped for a moment before rushing up in front of him and pointing from where it came, “What’s wrong?” he asked.
He did not need to ask, as almost immediately, the other Talonecs around him turned towards the fortress and began to march. Some passed him, giving him quizzical-- or at least as quizzical as a blank metal mask could give-- looks. He watched them go, turning back to his little buddy, “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” he asked. His drone, who he needed to name, swiveled its eye up and down for a moment, diving to grab his hand and yank him towards the fortress, “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s not like I have to go this instant. Unless there’s some sort of offensive happening, I think I can afford to dawdle. Right?” he asked, getting a strange sort of satisfaction as the little drone gesticulated its internal debate, “Don’t worry, I won’t be long. For now, though…” he trailed off, looking up at the stars. His little buddy followed him, coming to rest on his shoulder as they stared up at the heavens.
There was something off about the stars, Pandora thought. It seemed… so far away. Everything he ever saw, Pandora felt an intuitive sense that, by some method, he could reach it. The stars were different. It was like he was stuck in a bubble and they were far beyond his reach. The memories of the mistress were little help in terms of helping him understand his intuition, but he had more important things to ponder.
He thought, for a moment, if he was missing anything in his fighting style. He could shift through shadows and light, moving at incredible speeds, but he realized something very quickly. He was only using that fact as a way to move around. Something came to his mind, something that came from his mistress. It was the formula of calculating force. With mass and speed, he could do a lot of damage. But he had not been using that fact to his advantage. He would dodge around, firing, but why, he wondered, could he not launch himself at high speeds at the enemy when the least expected it? He eyed the Clockwork wrecks, a foolhardy idea forming in his head, “Hey, little buddy,” he said, catching his drone’s attention, “How about we do a little project together? As our first combined task?” The little drone tilted to the side in curiosity, but that grew into interest and, eventually, glee as he explained more and more. By the end, his little buddy was positively ecstatic, “If you’re on board, let’s get started,” Pandora laughed.
It did not take long to finish their project, since it was a simple one. By the end, he had a little secret weapon and, by his estimate, enough time to reach his siblings. He dove into the shadows, dragging his little buddy and his new weapon with him, and dashed to catch up with his siblings. It did not take long, as light and the absence of such was extremely fast. As he emerged from the shadows, he found himself in the middle of his siblings, staring at the body of his co-creator, ATHENA. He wondered if anyone saw him when he turned to the side.
There, he saw a small crowd of living people, a small stack of coffins, and his mistress, standing in front of both. His eyes met hers and she sighed, beckoning him forward. He hid a shudder and obeyed. He had to get it over with anyway, and he might as well do it with the mistress herself.