Breachers – Path of Steel
28
I
Repairs
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Day 26
With a nod of appreciation, Marcus ushered Felix out of the room. “Thanks,” he said, gesturing toward the 3D printer and the laptop. “I won’t break it, promise. I’m just going to print out something small to get the hang of it. And it’s already getting late, and you have a busy day tomorrow.”
“Won’t break it? Yeah, I’ve heard that before. I spent my whole childhood with you and your big ol’ butterfingers,” Felix shot back, leaning forward.
“I’ve matured, trust me,” Marcus chuckled, placing his left hand on Felix’s chest to stop his friend. It surprised him how comfortable he’d gotten recently at using his non-dominant hand. ‘Clearly, all those years as a left-handed robot have started to rub off on me.’
“Oh, give me a break. You’ve been snoozing for the last thirteen years. If anything, you’ve gotten worse,” Felix countered, pushing back against Marcus’s hand and steadily gaining ground. “And you’ve got a long way to go before you can boss me around like you used to.” Marcus abruptly ceased pushing back and instead seized Felix’s wrist. He yanked his friend forward, simultaneously twisting his arm behind his back, forcing it to rotate upward, toward his neck in an uncomfortable armlock. “Ouch... quit it!” Felix yelped as Marcus slowly led him out of the room and then let go of his arm. “Not cool!” Felix protested before Marcus slammed the door shut and locked it.
“Thanks, buddy,” Marcus said with an amused tone, knowing it would piss off his friend. He could hear a few irritated thuds against the door, along with the futile attempts of a spare key wiggling in the lock without result, as Marcus’s own key was still inside. “Stubborn fool,” he muttered before returning to the kitchen, where he’d set up his laptop and Felix’s 3D printer. “Alright... let’s get started.” Marcus left the living room and entered his bedroom, where several built-in-closets lined the walls. He had locked the one that was the farthest away from the door. He moved closer to it, and as he tapped on the door, he felt his Mana drain from his body. “Rise and shine.”
The door creaked open slightly as Marcus’s robotic self stepped out, still cloaked in tattered rags and plastic scraps. He remembered how he had brought the robot down from the hospital’s rooftop the previous night, sharing his Mana with it while syncing their minds and memories. Together, they had cautiously made their way back to Marcus’s new apartment, sneaking in via the fire escape to avoid being seen.
Marcus looked at the locking mechanism inside the door that he had partially pried open before, allowing his robot to open and lock it from the inside. “Time for a makeover,” he mumbled, leading the robot into the bathroom. There, he watched as the robot began to shed pieces of fabric and tear them off its frame. “I forgot how much crap I wrapped on myself back then,” Marcus said to himself before he left the bathroom and returned to the living room, his gaze shifting to the front door. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing his chair and wedging it against the door, ensuring the handle couldn’t be fully pressed down. He knew it was unnecessary to do so, but he wasn’t going to chance a weird encounter with Felix and having to explain why he was in the bathroom with a robot.
He then grabbed a small pair of scissors and an empty garbage bag from the kitchen before returning to the bathroom. When he did so, he found the robot now more exposed, with most of the fabric torn off. Marcus could finally see the full extent of the damage the machine had sustained over time. “You look terrible,” he muttered, watching the robot point back at him in response. “You’ve got a point there... we both look awful. But we can at least do something about your situation.” He then used the scissors to cut off the last bits of fabric and loose plastic before turning on the shower. The robot climbed into the bathtub and positioned itself beneath the showerhead, rinsing away the dust, dirt, and filth it had gathered over the years. Meanwhile, Marcus loaded the soiled fabric into the garbage bag and tied it securely. As the murky water cascaded off the robot, it formed a muddy spiral near the bath drain.
For five minutes, they diligently cleaned the robot’s shell, revealing the extent of the damage. “The right side really got the worst of it... after the whole exploding arrow thing,” Marcus remarked. He then peered through the hole in the robot’s torso, taking in the sight of glowing blue veins and the light blue Orb inside. “Still, better you than me,” he murmured as he studied the damaged portion. Carefully pulling out some loose bits and parts, Marcus discovered old electrical wires, broken circuits, and rusted components that seemed disconnected from the robot. The loose bits showed signs of decay over the years, while the rest of the robot wasn’t showing any of it. “Okay, time to start,” he said, stepping back and helping the other Marcus out of the bath before they both went to the living room.
“Okay, most of the protective plating on your left side is in reasonable shape... so, what if we remove those parts and print out inverted copies for your right side?” Marcus proposed. He grabbed a screwdriver and leaned in close to the robot, examining a protective plastic plate on its left shoulder. With a bit of wiggling, he slid the screwdriver underneath the plate and lifted it slightly, revealing screws holding it in place and thin tendrils of the blue veins attached to it. “Alright, either we cut the veins and remove the screws and it reattaches itself after we reinstall it, or it doesn’t work and we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands.”
The robot simply shrugged, then tapped the screwdriver, as though it had decided for the two of them. “Alright,” Marcus said, taking his time to remove the screws that held the hard plastic shoulder cover in place. He unscrewed them one by one, then stored them in a nearby cup to keep track of them. “It’s so weird there’s no rust on these, or on your frame. I wonder if it’s because of that Orb inside of you.” Slowly, Marcus pulled at the plastic cover, feeling the resistance and observing the tiny blue veins clinging to it. “Here we go,” he said, taking a deep breath before grabbing the robot with his left hand, establishing a shared connection, and carefully using the scissors to sever the veins.
Light blue liquid spurted from the severed veins in a frenzied torrent, creating a wild, chaotic splatter of blue that evaporated upon contact with the air. The mist it formed partially shrouded the robot in a fleeting, swirling blue tempest for a moment before dispersing. As it happened, Marcus just clung tightly to the scissors and the robot, unsure of how to assist or react. “What the hell was that? I mean, it didn’t hurt,” Marcus mumbled, glancing briefly at his own left shoulder as he wrestled with the strange sensation of loss he had experienced for a moment. He then examined the vein closely, observing the severed portion disintegrating into nothingness, as if the robot had shed an unnecessary thing. “It looks and behaves organically. God, this stuff is weird.”
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Grabbing the loose plastic piece, Marcus made his way to the laptop and 3D printer while feeling his connection with the robot diminishing as they got further apart. He inspected the plastic segment carefully, noting only minor cuts. ‘I think this should work fine,’ he thought, content with the condition of the plastic. He fetched his cellphone and meticulously photographed the plastic from multiple angles, ensuring he captured every detail. Then he recorded a video, rotating the plastic in his hand. After uploading all the data to the laptop, he inverted the image to fit the right shoulder and watched the software render a nearly perfect model of it. ‘This thing is amazing,’ he thought as he entered the measurements and thickness of the objects before preparing the filament for printing. With a press of the ‘enter’ key, the 3D printer whirred to life. A pleased grin spread across Marcus’s face as he observed the machine slowly print the replacement piece. “Nice,” he said while his robot companion responded with an appreciative thumbs-up from the other side of the room.
The 3D printer hummed to life as it started to print out the initial layer of sturdy white plastic. Marcus observed the process with childish glee for a few minutes before he focused on the task at hand and went back to the robot with the original shoulder piece. “The one we’re printing out may not be as strong as the original, but it’s better than nothing, right?” Holding the plastic shoulder cover above the robot’s left shoulder, he paused for a second. “Let’s hope this works,” he announced, while the robot gave a nod. He carefully positioned the cover on the robot’s left shoulder and slid it back into place. Then, nothing happened. Marcus clicked his tongue in mild frustration, his optimism fading. “Maybe it just needs a little time,” he suggested before securing the screws.
“Doesn’t really matter, I suppose... it’s just the outer shell. Whether it’s connected by those blue veins or not, as long as it can take a hit, that’s all I need,” he muttered, though he knew he was trying to convince himself, or rather, both of them. Needing a distraction, he glanced at the timer on the printer. “Thirty more minutes until it’s finished. Got any ideas to kill time while we wait?” Pointing at the floor and moving its arm in a pushup-like motion, the robot made its intentions clear as it left the living room and ignored Marcus’s protests. The robot just went back into the bathroom and finished cleaning up the mess they had made.
With a few irritated grunts, Marcus dropped to the ground and started a set of pushups and squats, his eyes occasionally flicking toward the timer. With each repetition, his body protested, trembling from the exertion. In the past 26 days, he had made significant progress toward recovery, regaining a sense of normalcy. However, when pushing himself to the limit, the lingering problems that he still struggled with became more pronounced. Exhausted, he finally lowered himself to the ground, leaning against the wall as he tried to regulate his breathing. His chest and arms felt tense and swollen, but in a good way. His gaze shifted to the robot when he watched it exit the bathroom and made its way into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water before it approached Marcus and handed him the drink. “Thanks, Marcus,” he said to himself, accepting the glass and taking a few sips. His throat almost betrayed him when the timer’s sudden beep startled him.
The robot extended its hand, lending Marcus the support he needed to stand, and for a fleeting moment, they became one again. They rushed over to the 3D printer, anticipation bubbling as they couldn't wait to see the finished product. Marcus wasted no time collecting the piece and quickly broke off the support structures before using his scissors to refine any rough spots. “It feels lighter than the original, but it’ll have to do for now,” Marcus observed. The robot leaned closer, allowing Marcus to attach it to the right shoulder, the piece clicking into place. “Just a few screws, and it should be good as new. Let’s give it a whirl.”
The robot nodded and began to move, flexing its shoulders before jumping around a bit. Each motion brought a widening grin to Marcus’s face. However, that grin faltered when the plating on the right shoulder suddenly popped off and clattered to the floor. “No worries. I should’ve screwed it on properly,” Marcus said as he retrieved the fallen plastic piece. He then grabbed a screwdriver and leaned in closer to the robot. “I’ll just borrow a half of the screws from the left side and add them to the right.” Slowly, he began to unscrew the first one before curiosity got the best of him, causing him to undo them all. Then, he carefully lifted the protective left shoulder plate a little.
His eyes widened as he noticed a tiny, partially attached blue vein, with others still in the process of reforming. They looked far thinner and more fragile compared to the one that had been there before. He dropped the screwdriver and took a step back, severing the connection with the robot as he began to pace around his room. ‘It worked... it really worked,’ he thought as he slowly began to accept what this meant. ‘It just takes a while to reform, so it’s far from perfect.’ His gaze then narrowed on the robot’s frame as a plan began to form.
“I need to buy a few things,” Marcus mumbled, then passed the screwdriver to his robot, establishing a connection and sharing his plan. Without hesitation, the robot made its way to the laptop and started an online search. Marcus just grabbed his cellphone and walked over to the window and slid it open. He climbed out and used the fire escape, which led him to the old alley beside the pub, the very place that had inspired the name of the pub.
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45 minutes later
“We’re closing in five minutes,” the shopkeeper informed Marcus, giving a quick once-over to the items that the young man had in his baskets: an assortment of screws and bolts, a backpack, a steel hatchet, sturdy rope, a lighter, spray can, compact tools kit, power drill, and a welding kit. “What kind of project did you say you were working on again?”
“Art project,” Marcus stated, feeling the weight of the man’s gaze on the distinctive black marks on his right hand, a telltale sign of his Marked status. “Got any metal pipes that I can put together. You know, like ones with male and female ends or something?”
“Male and female?” the man asked, his chin receiving a thoughtful scratch as he gave Marcus another once over. “We’ve got threaded steel pipes that you can twist together. You can find them in aisle four, all the way at the end.”
Marcus left his basket at the counter, dashed to aisle four, and hurried back. “I think these should work. Is it sturdy enough to withstand a few blows without bending or snapping?” Marcus inquired, noting the man’s raised eyebrow. “You know, for the art project.”
“Right,” the man asked, his eyes lingering on the black marks once more. “Well, we’ve got different types of pipes. The ones you’ve got now are solid steel. Can’t go wrong with those, though they may corrode over time. Does this art project of yours include water or... other types of liquids?” Marcus nodded awkwardly, and the shopkeeper sighed in response. “You might consider stainless steel then, or just give your ‘art project’ a good cleaning afterward.”
Marcus paused, then placed the pipes in the basket before handing it to the shopkeeper. “I’ll take these then.” The shopkeeper took a moment, scanning each item, occasionally shaking his head and muttering something as he examined specific ones, before totaling the cost in credits. Marcus opened his phone app and held it against the register, accepting the transfer of credits notice that popped up. He then stowed most of the items in the backpack. “Thanks.”
The man offered a nod. “Glad I could help. You know,” the man started before he paused for a second. “I’m not sure what sort of art you’re making, but there are stores that may have more suitable... ‘art materials’ for someone like you,” the shopkeeper commented as Marcus shouldered his backpack.
“Thanks for the suggestion, but I believe this will do for now.” Marcus nodded to the man and left the store, pulling the door shut behind him. The man gazed at the door for a brief moment, then shook his head and muttered to himself again. To his surprise, the door creaked open once more, and Marcus peeked inside. “Hey, by any chance, do you also sell speakers? Little ones?” He asked as he gestured with his hands to convey the size he was looking for.
The shopkeeper sighed and gestured for him to come inside. “Aisle seven, but I’m closing in five minutes.”
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Copyright: OsiriumWrites