[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴀᴜᴛᴏᴍᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴘᴀɪʀs ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇᴅ]
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴏᴘᴛɪᴄ ɴᴏᴅᴇ(s) 1-4 ʀᴇsᴛᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʀᴀᴛᴇ 75.12%]
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴛʜᴇʀᴍᴀʟ, x-ʀᴀʏ, ɪɴꜰʀᴀʀᴇᴅ, ɢᴀᴍᴍᴀ, ʀꜰ ᴍᴏᴅᴇ(s): ᴏꜰꜰʟɪɴᴇ, ɪʀʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴀʙʟᴇ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ/ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴀᴅᴍɪɴɪsᴛᴇʀ ɴᴀɴɪᴛᴇ ɪɴꜰᴜsɪᴏɴ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴄ ᴍᴀɴᴜꜰᴀᴄᴛᴜʀᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴀɪʀ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏɴᴇɴᴛs!]
For over an hour still partially snoring, Slate remained oblivious to my rambling as I wrung the rainwater from my ‘naturally’ cleaned clothes. Between tugging the clingy damp clothing from my body and checking Owen’s pulse, I moved both swiftly and noiselessly inside the narrow tunnel, utilizing a torn swath of my uniform I had saturated in the rain as a means to hydrate our injured Engineer.
“Damn Nanites weren’t enough to repair all my Optics modules so I can’t tell your temperature. I suppose you don’t know what it is now, do you?” I giggled in a whisper, diligently replacing his bloody bandages while Slate’s restless snoring continued to increase in frequency and in decibel.
“You’re lucky you have someone who’s been around long enough to know to make the best of this dated med-kit. Well, I suppose you could have Lotte who’s properly trained and all, but at least I know to give you morphine before debriding your burns.”
“Hehehhh~, hit me up with another few CC’s and you can tell me you lost your medical license and I wouldn’t care you silly bear~. As long as you don’t eat me~! Ehehehhhh~!”
Eyes closed and voice wavering, Owen let out a faint chuckle and appeared to fall back asleep.
“Any more and I may very well put you into a coma. I’ve already taken your weight into account and adjusted the measurement down to the microgram. You’re about a molecule off from an overdose. Not to worry; I don’t plan on giving you anymore. I'm just about done reapplying the antibiotic salve.”
“Gee, where can I get some of that sweet bedside manner, Nurse Crabby-Ass? It took a cave to wake ya up on the right side of the bed?”
“I liked it better when you were asleep, Slate.” I growled, focusing intently scraping away the old antibiotic paste and Owen’s peeling skin on his second-degree burns as the crinkling of the space-age foil blanket drew near. “What the heck are you doing, Slate!? Do you even have clothes on under there- get away from me! Shoo- shoo!!”
“Well, I liked it better back when you were impartial to nudity, and for the record; I am wearing my clothes. I put them on while you were busy talking to yourself. I’m just wearing the blanket because I can’t get warm without-.”
“If you finish that sentence with 'you' I’ll deck you.”
“Gee, someone’s narcissism is up bright and early! I was going to say the Heat-Element that warms my blood has gone out. It’s not too big of a deal, and I can live without it, I just wanted to call dibs on the blanket before you did cause this cave is friggen cold.”
Living ‘without,’ he says.
I’ve been living without a majority of my subsystems, so I suppose sacrificing the warmth of a blanket that’s paper thin and slightly uncomfortable isn’t too much to ask.
Still, in this cave so humid it perspires its own form of mineral-rich rain, the waterproof nature of the foil sheet would have been helpful as we trekked further in on a whim to pass the time.
“You sure Owen will be okay if we leave him bundled up? What if we get lost?” Slate asked with an uncharacteristic sense of timidity. “I hope you at least left him some batteries for his torch…”
Stating that he would be fine and that I had hooked him up to an I.V line to keep him hydrated in our spelunking, I focused on more important matters at hand. Namely; checking and re-checking the extent of the internal damage I suffered from my fall and why Logic has yet to chime in with its usual witticism.
“The only danger posed to Owen stems from the battery in his torch having a solid lithium cathode. Old ones corrode internally and then short once to two sides make contact. A lithium fire with all this water would be incredibly difficult to extinguish. That being said; I noticed Tesla keeps everyone well supplied with technology cut above the typical stuff I’m used to running into. I figured they would be lead-acid given the state of the world.”
Scratching the back of his head as he followed close behind, Slate let out a huff as if somehow my attempt to use logic and reason to calm his nerves backfired.
“He’ll be fine. I used a burnt match-head to write a comprehensive list of his injuries and some they should expect to treat on his forehead. I’m a bit surprised to see batteries at all these days. I mean, these really can explode at any moment, but only if they’re old or broken… we should probably tell Tesla when we get back to be sure she stores them in a safe place.”
Slowly but surely, we descended along a narrow decline that was both slippery and coarse. Hand in hand, we anchored one another using any available footing or handhold until the narrow passageway opened into a broad pocket of stale air. Shining my torch ahead, we were met with a glistening array of stalagmites and stalactites both of which meshed the ceiling of the cave to the... concrete ground?
Rubbing my eyes, I focused intently towards a thick metal door with a poorly aged NFPA Hazard Diamond stained over its rusty surface before turning to Slate who appeared to share my disbelief.
“We’re not hallucinating, right?” Slate stammered in confusion not more significant than my own.
Taking one step forward, I hummed in interest; “I don’t think we are…” only to get my ears shattered in return.
“WAIT-!! Err, wait… sorry! Don’t you think it could be, err, you know, be boobytrapped?”
“Yeah, totally; Someone thought to put a door here at the bottom of a cave for two unsuspecting Lilim to find it! Slate, are you ‘playing’ stupid, or does being a moron come naturally to you? Whatever this place is has long been abandoned.”
“Damn it, you can't just make baseless assumptions! I don’t mean boobytrapped like its one of those spring-loaded boxing gloves as much as I’d appreciate one of those right about now! It might be obvious to you what it is, but don't go disregarding your safety when anyone can easily string a shotgun or a grenade pin to the door handle!”
“You think I just wildly guess at everything without assessing the situation and factoring risks? Take a look at the emblem, it says ‘three’ for flammability, ‘two’ for Inhalation hazard and ‘Four’ for instability or reactivity. So please, by all means; go back to making fun of me for being an over-analytical calculator or whatever it is you called me. This is just the beginning of what my intuition is telling me based on what's presented here before me and past experiences.”
Grumbling to himself as my torch cast a large silhouette on the far wall, Slate refused to face me as if lost in thought.
"Well, I'd like to hear what your gut is telling you. Go ahead, enlighten me on boobytrapping 101, Mr. Scavenger!"
“Err, well it’s a Bunker like you said… that houses radioactive waste-errr-matieriallll-weaponssss-of-ssssomessssort!”
“You just tried combining three guesses into one!” I taunted, after imitating the sound of a buzzer. “Based off the radiation hazard on the warning, I'd say it's a nuclear missile silo. An incredibly old one, perhaps even predating ourselves.
“Tch, well that was my second guess!” Slate quickly corrected as bullshit dripped from his jowls. “Wait a second, Nukes haven't been around for centuries, couldn't it be just hazardous waste storage or something!? ”
“Need I remind you that you lot pulled me from a smoldering crater from said nukes. Anyway, what's the harm in finding out?” I snickered, sheering off the door handle with a great twist before using my foot as a pry-bar to gain entry. “We can pass the time and find out what's inside while we wait for APC-2 to home in on our last known position. The more food or medical supplies the better.”
“Whoa~whoa~whoa, we can’t just leave Owen! We said we’d be back after we are satisfied and by all means- I am more than satisfied without getting irradiated! Why don’t we mark the location and have Tesla send out a fresh crew with fresh gear!
“Owen will be just fine, he’s probably singing sweet nothings to the cave crickets out of chemical bliss right about now. To him; time is likely passing so fast he’ll never notice that he's alone.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m scared or anything…” Slate murmured, unable to prevent his eyes from wandering.
“I never said anything about being scared.” I teased as his humility began to glow a rosy hue.
“Ugh, alright, fine~! I suppose a quick peek around wouldn't hurt. It just better not be haunted or anything, alright!?”
“A Lilim that believes in ghosts. Now, I can die having seen everything. For my sake as well, I would hope it isn’t haunted either now that you’ve stripped me of my plot armor.”
“This isn’t a game, Fragile, seriously don't kid like that, your tough, but not indestructible!” He shouted, almost as if he were on the verge of tears. “If one of us gets hurt… well, more hurt, we’re going to be in a world of trouble and so will Owen. Besides, there was this one time I stumbled upon one of the Collection Agency’s dumpsites for discarded Synthetic bodies, and it was without a doubt haunted to all piss! Why do you think I never bothered to go scavenging for a higher capacity N-Drive?!”
“When you say 'Haunted', do you mean stumbled into the Lost? Those are just A.I’s who’ve deteriorated before they could be euthanized. There’s nothing supernatural about them at all, just corrupted data.”
Reminiscing the soft blue glow of the daily newspaper on my Master’s Holographic Tablet Computer, a headline stuck out to me; ‘Lost seen in the General Market Sector, remain indoors while 'Lockdown' is in effect.’
A part of me was almost enthused to see what awaits me just before or after death, but it was not of morbid curiosity, instead; if there are any Lilims that have survived this long, there may still be hope for me.
“The Lost, Ghosts, Demons! Have you ever seen a Lilim’s face without skin? -err, asides from Habu…,” Slate grumbled sympathetically before redoubling his tenor and regaining his stride down the deathly quiet labyrinth. “Imagine an entire Lilim without skin! All grimy, bony and withered! O-or just picture a Zombie but like, ten times creepier!!”
“My Master wouldn't let me watch scary movies. The closes thing I can think of is manufacturer diagrams on the internet, but nothing like what I’ve overheard way back when. I thought Synthetics perish shortly after succumbing to the disease… or is it exclusively Lilim-Class Synth’s that you saw in that dumpsite you mentioned?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“If we ever find any, you can ask them. By the time you’re able to reason with it it’s gonna be gnawing on your insides and playing jump-rope with your intestines, and I’ll be long-longggg~ gone.”
“Oh please! They’re not cannibals, Slate, that’s absurd! I’m sure some can even hold a conversation, they're just malfunctioning. I’m sure it’s similar to the human equivalent; schizophrenia, and does not make them Zombies! But... I’ll give you that it is pretty damn creepy in here… and musty. My uniform is never going to dry in this humid air.”
As we came to the edge of an impossibly long flight of stairs further descending into the suffocating darkness, the light of my torch quavered and dimmed signaling for a change of battery.
“Since I’m still able to partially see visual representations of sound, I’d probably be freaked out by now but~...”
“But?” Slate repeated as we gripped onto the rusty handrail and proceed further into the depths of the murky darkness.
“There’s not a thing down here, not even bugs. I’d be able to see them breathing since I first noticed them in the area where we left Owen.”
Although the distance of our path was concealed in shadows and a slight curvature in the stairwell, the only door we had come across was the one we had originated from. With no likeliness of getting lost and nowhere for any lurking ghoul to hide behind, the lack of sound almost confirmed an inkling feeling that our adventure was bound to end in disappointment.
Now if only Slate would see it that way.
“Why’d ya have to mention bugs!? I freakin HATE bugs!” He wheezed, walking as if his underwear had ridden up his waistline in a futile attempt to step over the would-be creepy crawlies.
“Clean out your ears, Dummy, there are no bugs!!”
“Don’t shout or you’ll attract whatever’s in here, ya Idiot! Do you wanna be a Lost's chew-toy!?”
Drunk on the power of pushing Slate’s buttons, I cupped my hands to my mouth and took a deep breath in preparation for a long-winded howl. That’s when Slate’s eyes went wide with fear before his feet carried him down the stairs as if he had been blown away by an otherworldly gust of wind.
..
… The wind?!?
..
Forcing my neck to wrench around to see what had been breathing on the nape of my neck, I stopped part way and took after Slate’s stampeding plunge nearly twisting my ankles in the process.
“Sl-Slate, wait up!! Wait for ME!!!”
Nearing the end of the long flight of stairs, my grip on my flashlight faltered, and my ability to maintain my footing suffered as a result. Braced with my hands out in front in total darkness, the downward pull of gravity finished my decent as I abruptly met the cold hard dust encrusted floor.
[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ʜᴀʀᴅ ʀᴇsᴇᴛ – コンプリート, sʏsᴛᴇᴍリスタート, ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟɪᴢɪɴɢ… 73.1%]
[ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ᴏs: ᴄᴜsᴛᴏᴍ ꜰɪʀᴍᴡᴀʀᴇ - sʜɪ ɴᴏ ʀᴏ̄ᴛᴀsᴜ ᴠ347.9ʙ2]
[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ʀᴇʙᴏᴏᴛ… ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ, ʀᴇᴄᴀʟɪʙʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴄᴏᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇᴛʀᴀɪɴ!]
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ʜʏᴅʀᴀᴜʟɪᴄ ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ!]
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ʀᴇsᴜᴍɪɴɢ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴇᴅ!]
“Hey, are you okay? That looked like it hurt.”
In spite of the impact, it was the searing light being burned into my retinas that caused me to wince.
“Ugh, Slate, can you aim the flashlight anywhere else?”
“C’mon, we’re going to be late for the ceremony!”
“Huh? What ceremony? What could you possibly be on about?”
Effectively yanked from the floor, the bobbing light did little in the way of uncovering my surroundings that now concealed itself behind a cloud of centuries-old dust. Between a cough and a sneeze, my confusion would go unheeded as Slate’s excitement took hold of him.
Were it not for the struggle of keeping my footing against the lumps of rust and snow-like powder blanketing the floor, inches deep in some places, I would have thought to ask what was so imperative to wrench my along like a ragdoll.
***CHNG~~!!!* CHNG~~!!!* WHRRRRRRRRRHHHHHH~CLICK....CLICK....CLICK....CLICK.....!!!***
“The lights?” I gasped as the sound of a distant generator groaned to life along with a succession of circuit-breakers, each click drawing nearer. Though the lead-element wall lamps were dim and unsteady, they were more than enough to see a good few meters ahead.
“Slate, did you hear that?” I asked faintly, before turning about around to see the reason as to why we had come to a halt.
“They’re all excited waiting for you! Today’s your big day, silly!”
..
All I need to do was just… blink…
..
When I reopened my eyes, standing before me was the broken and battered shell of a Lilim, standing no taller than that of a child, whose features had been significantly degraded by time. I couldn’t speak, let alone scream. I just froze and awaited the inevitable.
“Getting cold feet? Yeah, I totally~ get that. I've tried to put myself in your shoes and I just simply can't!” It snickered in a static riddled voice as it began to rummage through a set of lockers lining what appeared to be a custodial changing room. “Hhhhh~ I’m not helping! Stupid Miri, get yourself together- you’ve gotta find that dress!!”
“Wha…” I parted my lips, though the rest of my body remained unresponsive.
“I FOUND IT!!” The corpse squeaked with glee as it held the most gorgeous alabaster dress above its dainty head. “Miri found it, see!?”
Nodding ever so slightly, the eloquence of what I allege to be a child pulled my attention from the bridal gown’s mesmerizing beauty.
“M-Miri? Is that your name?”
“Sure isssss~♪! Did the butterflies in your chest float up to your head and make you forget about your biggest, bestest day~♥?!”
Standing just below my chin, the fair-haired corpse of a Lilim teetered on its badly decayed legs nearly stripped down to their frame as it cradled the dress with an expressive tenderness.
“Y-Yeah, can you remind me why today is so important? I seem to have forgotten in all the excitement… or when I hit my head.”
“Oh! That’s why you were on the floor? Uhh, now that Miri can see you in the light you look so banged up! A-are you hurting? Do you need some Nanites before we get you primped and clean!?”
My eyes widened. “You have Nanites?”
“Miri isn't allowed to keep them on her, but yeah, of course Miri can get them for you! We have plenty of Nanites and even some VitaGel- the very bestest kind! Ever try Raspberry Sorbet!? It's my favorite~♥!”
As I glanced around my surroundings again, I was confident we were the only ones in the vicinity. Still, I had to ask in the hopes that I could further restore my critically damaged internals.
“We?”
“Ah, you really did scramble your brains! Not to worry, Miri will take you to the Clinic! But we’ll have to hurry! Yah can’t keep your Groom waiting on forever on your wedding day!”
This girl, she is what I fear I’ll become when my A.I completely degrades… a Lost. An entity with no ‘Soul’ as the humans put it. A shell that merely acts on external stimulus, instinct and the fragments of hollow memories.
When I look into those dead eyes, I see a spark, a glimmer of the past; of this girl who refers to herself as Miri. Everywhere else… save for most of her face-plate is just… death and decay.
In every jittery bounce, loose wires and components dangled in the hole through the ragged remnants of her gown and exposed chest cavity. Despite this macabre fashion and mottled skin, there was an eloquence and austerity to this broken doll standing before me.
Against time.
Against death.
In defiance, she remains.
I allowed the Harbinger of Fate time had abandoned to lead me by hand, just as she began to sing a merry tune.
But… I knew this couldn’t – shouldn’t, last.
And in coming to terms with her ephemerality, I asked; “Hey Miri, what is my name?” pressing my finger harshly against the delicate glass veil encasing her sanity.
“I. . .I . . . y-yo-your. . .”
Miri’s reality began to unwind as the remains of her A.I endeavored to find continuity.
“I .. dd-do...”
In her struggle to piece together a puzzle in which I do not belong, that glass veil pushed back against my expectation that she would shutdown having been stuck in a logic loop.
“Ugh~ Miri gave herself a headache. Maybe we should both see the Clinic and get some Nanites.”
With half an inclination to pat her shoulder I refrained in fear of damaging Miri’s frail nature any further. Instead, she settled with holding my index finger.
“Yes. Let’s go to the Clinic.” I smiled weakly as we resumed our brisk pace, biting my tongue from further interrogations.
At the end of the gallery stood a narrow corridor formed of two slabs of concrete, pinching inwards on the width of the room like a funnel. While Miri continued to bumble the torch in her merry gait, a glint above the end of the passageway caught my eye.
It was a piece of metal, about the size of a washboard. On its surface, a slick substance that appeared black in the brief moments I could perceive it in the dim light. Paying it no mind as we passed under the archway, a cold drip struck my shoulder, while an unnatural force possessed me to turn about.
Whether it was curiosity or just merely going along, Miri followed without question all the while playing pretend soldier with the flashlight.
That is, until she cast the revealing rays on what had caught my attention.
“Pew-pew...! Eh? What’s the matter?” She asked innocently as I stood frozen with my mouth agape.
“Miri… how did this get here?”
“That thingy? I’m not sure. I don’t think it was here the other day… Maybe somebody put it up when we were busy decorating for your Big Day!”
A decoration she calls it… a piece of armor plating stripped from the hull of APC-2, stained in blood nearly concealing the white lettering. Just what could have happened to get it so deeply embedded into the wall.
“That’s very tasteless. Miri, you should tell whoever put it up to take it down.”
“Awh, alright, it is your day after all!”
*GONNGGGG *GONNNGGG* *GONNNNGGGGGG*
Church bells? The sound is so overwhelming, reverberating off the passageway. There isn’t a chance I could discern the direction or where it originated.
“Oh shit-biscuits, we’re going to be late!” Miri perked suddenly. “Do you mind if I lend you some of my personal Nanites? We really can't be late!”
Holding a dilapidated wire hanging on by a few strips of rubber coating between her skeletal fingers, Miri’s eyes widened as she shoved the dress into my possession.
Stammering, I eked out; “A-Are you sure that’s okay?” only get my belt undone and my drawers dropped around my ankles.
“Of course it’s okay! I keep telling you; you own this day! Come-come, get out of your clothes and into the dress! I’ll make the transfer real quick!”
Lowering her voice to just above a whisper, Miri giggled; “Just be sure you throw the bouquet in my direction, I've been waiting for it foreva~!”
Bombarded by her hands, it appeared I had no choice in the matter though I can’t complain. My uniform was in tatters, wet and sticking to my skin causing it to chafe and the dress for all intents and purposes could be described with ease the single most beautiful piece of apparel I’d ever seen.
“Okay, Nanite Transfusion complete!” The Lost girl jittered uncontrollably as she ran in circles, binding the large ribbon of the dress around my midriff.
Undeniably, I was concerned for a multitude of reasons;
What will happen when something shatters this waking dream of hers?
Why was I not prompted with an Auxiliary Connection, let alone a Transfusion?
Who could possibly be the groom, and most pertinently; what happened to Slate and the rest of the crew belonging to APC-2?
“Lotte…” I thought I had murmured imperceptibly, but the concerned look on Miri’s face said otherwise.
“Whatsa~lot? You like the dress a lot? Because I sure do!"
Nodding, I allowed her to grasp my finger once more as we passed beneath the makeshift signage stained in blood. What lay in wait around the corner could never have been met with any amount of preparation.
Awestruck by the wonderland untouched by time, a roll of applauding and laughter filled the Theater that had been re-purposed to resemble that of a church.
On every banister, a ribbon wire-laden with sparkling iron flowers cut from scraps of metal and on the podium, two grand effigies of steel twisted, shaped and bent into both the male and female form. They were angels; with feathers fashioned from bayonets and a halos woven of barbed wire.
Unable to react, my legs threatened to give way as I panned towards the groom to be and our bridesmaids and groomsmen.
Counting eight in total, the eviscerated bodies of APC-2s crew tallied all but one of the members who had been bound to a chair in a dense blanket of chain. Unmistakably, it was Lotte, her hair matted with blood and her dress sodden with viscera and bone fragments.
As my paralysis began to fade, Miri took my hand almost forcibly.
[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ʟᴏɢɪᴄ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ? ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ, ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ! ɪ'ᴍ sᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ... ɪ'ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ...]
At any moment, I felt as if I would vomit. Not just because of the noise, but of the terrible faces lurking in the crowd. Each and every one of them was a Synth, a Lost. Some more degraded and rotten than others, their faces and their dreadfully soulless eyes threatened to pierce my Core.
Then I felt something hook its arm around my own, helping to guide me towards the stage. The being, this thing; its skull had been split lengthwise, its jaw permanently open and encrusted with foul-smelling oil. There would be no hope in running as I was vastly outnumbered and without Logic, effectively disarmed and partially blind.
Only once we clambered up the five or so steps to the stage, I noticed him.
Slate, who had been staked to a slab of concrete in the rough shape of a cross through the use of heavy rail ties and rebar.
His EPCM!?! They have been destroyed!?!
In the center of his palms, two massive spikes had been driven clean through the devices that granted him the ability to shape, create and destroy leaving me with no doubt that this would be the end.
Now here, standing before him and the rest of APC-2’s crew who had all but been gutted, mutilated and torn to pieces before being strapped into a row of seats I began to weep uncontrollably.
For the first time in a long time… I didn’t know what to do.
Without Logic's guidance...
I'm just a helpless fool wallowing in my regrets.
I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare, but I couldn’t even pinch myself due to how badly my hands were shaking.
Without Logic, I could not bring myself to kill the two closest to me, let alone Miri; her face still smiling with a surreal innocence.