“Spinal fluid reflection at 85%. 95%. 100%.”
“Ahhhh! Ahh! Help me! Somebody help me! Plea-” A half-naked man strapped to an operating table screamed for mercy. A colorful strip along his spinal cord burst, exploding the back of his torso and rendering him lifeless.
A woman near the table, shrouded in dark, sighed deeply. Strange apparatuses branched out from her body, some like a spider’s legs and others bulbous and camera-like. Her fingers featured long, painted nails that faintly glowed in the gloam.
“Another dud, Voira?” Another shadowy figure, male, lingered behind the augmented woman. His voice was distorted by an angular, asymmetric mask.
She sighed again. “That disgusting goo you found in the underground didn’t do shit like you said it would. Killed him as soon as he synchronized.”
“Old world tech is losing its luster,” the man replied, lightly shaking his head. “The Union has stopped collaborating with us on that front. Seems like they have their eyes on a different prize. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.”
Voira turned to converse with him. He was leaning against the wall with crossed arms. He wore a puffy military jacket. “Spit it out, then. Not in the mood for a long chat.”
“Hm. You know the Inkorpt has new competition, yeah? Iteration 7. They’re calling themselves Vroque Investigations apparently.”
“So what?” One of her audiovisual appendages cricked its neck and zoomed in on her fellow Nye Inkorpt affiliate.
“That gun-toting dumbass Cloak came into contact with ‘em. Lost us the Gunblades case and all of their cargo. Chick there called the Maiden of the Rain. She threw most of it into the water. Rest got snagged by scavs from Indigo. Well, might’ve been-”
“Blue Lotus,” Voira interrupted, though the man’s next remark showed she had correctly finished his thought.
“Maybe. The point is that we’ve got to send them a message. Need to make sure they understand never to mess with us again. That Vroque can never compete, and that the Inkorpt rule this beautiful mess of a city.” The man leaned over and unhooked a vial from his belt, then handed it to Voira. It was more shimmering ooze for her experiments.
She took it, her nails clinking against the murky glass. “This a real gig? Or you just itching to kill somebody?”
“Not me. You.”
“Me? I’m not built for combat, Rei. Recon, okay. But not for fighting.”
“Fine, I’ll tag along. Don’t worry, I have a plan. We’ll send them a contract using a different name. There’s a group of psychos on the far side of the city, on the border of Indigo. We send them there. Then, we kill two birds with one stone.”
The wicked woman grinned devilishly, peering into the vial’s contents. A dull light illuminating her victim filled it with gross, glimmering colors. “Okay, I’m listening.”
***
The shaded buildings on the slightly more affluent side of Indigo District made Ma’at feel a pang of melancholy. Scruffy men in fine suits and cheap fedoras passed them on the street. Another day, another strange contract.
“What are we doing here again?” Sato asked. A question Ma’at dearly needed to ask as well. Normally she’d amuse the Writer by paying close enough attention to his wild, impassioned ramblings. This time was different. She had been far too tired to indulge him, and thus most of the truly relevant information had gone into one ear and out the other.
“C’mon, Sato! Pay more attention!” Tien scolded her, as usual. A faint, sly grin appeared on Ma’at’s face, having dodged a bullet. “There’s rumors of weird people gathering on this side of Indigo. There’s been a lot of disappearances here recently, so take this one seriously.”
“I am! And I took the last one more seriously than both of you! We could’ve been eaten! Who knows what else is lurking in that godforsaken lake…” She took on a brisk pace as she remembered the eerie nature of the place and the grotesque gargofin they’d fished out of its depths.
Tien led the pack, with Sato trying to catch up and Ma’at slightly behind her.
“You’re such a baby,” Tien said with a giggle. “Hmm… I’d hoped we could go back there soon, but the weather’s getting colder.”
“Oh no~ What a shame…” Sato’s words dripped with half-hearted sarcasm. She hoped they’d never set foot near Larueszeradt again. Suddenly, a street merchant caught her eye. Sato looked upon a wide assortment of colorful crystals with a childlike glee. “What do these do, sir?”
“Ah, they ain’t magic if that’s what you’re thinking. They’re soap crystals from the Dusklight Depths. Supposed to make you smell good.”
“I see. For what purpose would smelling good serve?”
“Oh… well, I guess it might help in catching someone’s eye that you’re interested in.”
“Mhm! I see, I see! So if I purchase and use these crystals, I could seduce anyone?”
“Eh, that’s not really what I-”
“Incredible. And once they’re charmed, killing them is so much easier! Thank you, kind man. Here’s 30 Kin.”
The merchant stared slack-jawed at the coins in his hand. It was the first time in his life that he thought he didn’t deserve money given to him in earnest.
“Yeah, you’re really taking this seriously.” Ma’at shoved an elbow into Sato’s side in a jovial manner.
“Alright… listen up. This is it. Client pointed us here.” Tien squinted her eyes to gaze into an alleyway lit in an orange hue. Flickering wire lights were hung on the walls leading inward. Almost as if it were a portal to another dimension, the air around it felt alien and mysterious. A crackling in the air. The foreign smell of grease and oil spilled out from it.
“This some kind of black market or something? What’s with the festive lights?”
Tien shrugged her shoulders. Her brown overcoat made a light scratching noise as she did so. “I dunno. There’s tons of weird people in Indigo. People from all over. That’s what Reville’s all about, right?” She smirked with her eyes.
Heading down the lit alleyway, they came upon an odd tent. It was big enough to where it cluttered their entire path. More electric, wire lights were strewn across it. The bulbs flickered when they came closer as if they were alive and could sense the trio’s presence. Glancing to the side, a wide assortment of shoes and other miscellaneous belongings could be seen strewn across the dirty ground.
“What’s this about?” Ma’at asked no one in particular, crouching down to observe the items.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“That is… definitely strange, to say the least.” Tien picked up a leather-stitched shoe only to cover her mouth in disgust and throw it away. “Ack… it reeks.”
“Did the client say anything about this?”
“No. They just said they’d heard crazy rumors about this alleyway. That nobody sane had dared to go near it within the past week. Any who did end up missing.” She turned her head to stare into the tent’s entrance. Like a horrible dragon’s maw, it sat open, drenched in darkness. Waiting for its next meal. Waiting for roaming fools to enter it and be trapped with no escape.
A shudder ran down each of their spines, but such fear at the moment was mostly unfounded. Rumors aren’t always trustworthy, after all. Mystery could warp and mutate anything into a horrifying monstrosity given enough people are marred by the intrigue it garners.
Stifling such nonsensical fear, Ma’at rose to her feet and walked toward the gaping maw. The others wearily followed. The path was wrought with pure black shadow, though there was some light. The tent seemed to lead into one of the old buildings. Perhaps one of them that was segregated from the rest, pressed into the middle of the district by the addition of other buildings. Forgotten and left to rot in the middle of a district that was already a stain and a blemish to the Union.
Trusting in their suspicions and realizing it was the only way forward, they entered the mesmerizing marquee.
It led through a man-made tunnel into an ancient factory. Across oaken tables and static, quiet assembly lines stood countless people dressed in tattered black robes. The same fiery, vibrant simmering lights burned in bulbs hanging like cobwebs from low rafters. The swarm of followers from an unknown faction gathered around the room discussing things unheard. It was as if the trio had stepped into an autumnal party, perhaps even a Christmas party, with the exception of the odd garments the guests had donned. The guests themselves were mysterious. They hid beneath their trashy cloaks as if they were naked without them; in fact, they might have been, as the clothes they may have worn before had been abandoned outside the festive tent.
The forsaken people turned to peer into the hearts of the women from Vroque with curiosity and a twinge of scorn. They had entered the otherworldly place without their knowledge and without their permission. Ma’at went to unsheathe her blades, but was stopped by one of the strangers suddenly walking toward them with raised hands. A sign of peace. The gesture one would make if they wanted to clarify that they wished others no harm.
Indeed, the being meant no harm. As it lumbered toward them, hunchbacked, the trio discussed amongst themselves. They hadn’t the slightest clue of what was happening, but the being would elucidate them promptly. It was humanoid in appearance. At least, at first. Once one could get a proper look at the creature, a detailed examination of it, their previous idea of its origin was scattered to the wind. Beneath the tattered cloak was a worn, fragile body made of teetering machines and clockwork malformations. Its head and face were hidden beneath a white sheet, though a faint red light shone through.
“STASIS. Apologies for the other acolytes, they were simply afraid you meant them harm. THESIS. I believe you are a peaceful group, however. You did not bare arms immediately upon entry. Though, I would ask you to lay down your arms before speaking with our Lord of Cogs. COMPROMISE.” The clockwork priest hung the part of itself that resembled a head down and put its hands together in prayer. Its hands emanated a mechanical clicking sound as they touched. Its voice was a bit higher pitched than they would have thought, though it had still gone through many croaking filters of distortion, like someone talking through a century-old radio.
“W-What?”
“Who are you people?” Sato asked the creature. She was the only one who hadn’t been utterly dumbfounded by the entities they’d stumbled upon.
“UNDERSTANDING. We are servants to the Lord of Cogs, our god and master. He has granted us a higher purpose and knowledge of the world. Our eternal repayment is in our blood, oil, and tears.”
Tien walked to the front of the group, her surprise diminished. She elected herself as the mediator between both factions. “I’m Tien, and this is Ma’at and Sato. We’re from Vroque, simply to investigate a missing persons case. Can you tell us anything about that?” She brought out a clipboard from her dimensional suitcase, ready to take notes if necessary, as if this was all due process.
Ma’at and Sato looked at her, then met eyes with worried looks as if to ask each other whether or not they were dreaming.
“I completely understand,” Tien continued, “if you don’t wish to speak with us. Just know that our client, as far as we know, has no affiliation with the Union.”
The being’s neck cracked and sputtered. Gray steam blew out of an unseen vent on its body. “ABANDONMENT. You seek lost souls? The souls of the bourgeois who have given themselves to our master?”
“What do you mean by ‘given’? Are you all… Enigmas?” Ma’at looked past the priest and back into the corners of the room. The automatons tinkered with random objects on the dead assembly lines for seemingly no purpose other than entertainment. A tangled, slightly nauseating feeling came over her and plummeted down into her stomach. “Did your master… change you?”
“CONFUSION. I am unsure of what you mean by ‘Enigmas’. But what you have asked is true in a sense. Here, allow me to show you.” The trio followed the being to a mess of assembly lines. It flipped a switch located on the machine’s side. As if its touch had given the machinery life, the mechanism roared and began carrying the countless items strewn across it throughout the building. “This factory was once purposeless. Our master was once purposeless. Another youth, as we were, suffocated by daily life. Our natural instincts were eviscerated. Annihilated. Obscured. MEANINGLESS. Life had become yet another cycle of meaningless tasks. We ran along the treadmill of Reville until our lungs gave out. The demonic smoke from the factories deeper within dared us to live better lives. To search for something new.”
To search for something new. The phrase rang true in Ma’at’s heart and mind.
“We were locked in an endless struggle for survival. But without power, money, or fame, we were fated to die in obscurity. KISMET.”
“Factory workers,” Tien said quietly, using a quill pen to scrawl across her clipboard. A fine printed piece of paper was clasped onto it to allow her to make small notes. “This… Lord of Cogs you mentioned.”
“AFFIRMATION. Yes?” The clockwork humanoid settled as it stood before them, its vibrating limbs lowering to a resting position.
“Did he kidnap these people? Did he kidnap you and transform you into… this?” She looked at it with pity. Subconsciously, she tried to imagine what the creature used to appear like when it was human. The machine showed zero emotion on what could only be described as its face.
“DENIAL. No. He has made us into fine cogs for the everlasting machine of life on Aeos. We will survive as best we can. Without need or want of sustenance nor warmth. We are forever content with existence, creating machines and altering those who have yet to be altered. CLARIFICATION. None of this, however, is without consent. Those who do not wish for a life outside the cycle may continue to suffer eternally. The Lord of Cogs is passive, peaceful, and does not desire violence. Those who do wish to become one of his cogwheels are welcome, always.”
Ma’at rested her head in one hand, trying to make sense of it all.
“Don’t you miss eating? Sleeping? I don’t think I could ever give those up…” Sato examined the clockwork being’s parts, taking ponderous steps around it.
“ASSURANCE. We require neither, as we are always content.”
“Well, sure. But don’t you miss it? Coming home after a long day, jumping onto the couch, and falling fast asleep. Or eating delicious food with people you care about. Or finding joy in something abstract, doing something you love simply for the sake of doing it. I don’t think I could handle living like that, even if it was forever. That seems a lot more sad than just… living.”
The once-human automaton sputtered again. A spark jolted beneath its frame. For a long while, it stared into the Maiden of the Rain’s face with an emotionless expression. Even if it appeared emotionless, it was clear Sato’s words had made the being think for a minute. “TRUTH. You are not entirely wrong. There are times when I miss the fleeting indulgences of humanity. When I wish I could sleep and pass the time away instead of existing in it for every second. Once, long ago, I had the strangest dream. I was in a port town. I was friends with the love of my life. We ate fish every day. There was a large bridge that connected two tiny islands. HOME. The waves would roll in, and fish would fall from the sky. We hung nets across the great bridge, and caught hundreds of them. Thousands. I was… happy. Very happy.” The being’s orange eye flickered and returned to its robotic, crimson luster. “REALITY. But that was only a dream. Dreams are as meaningless as the lives of the bourgeois. As the lives of all who toil in Reville for better pay, for better jobs. All meaningless things. It is better to be a cogwheel below ground, serving a purpose forever and always, than a distant, nebulous star.”
“That isn’t just a dream,” Tien remarked. She had stopped writing and placed her clipboard down when the being had shown personality. “The Isle of Kohru has terrible storms. They dip down into the sea and rush upward, throwing countless fish across the ocean. I’ve heard that islanders sometimes set up nets and try to catch stray ones.”
“Seriously?” Sato asked, bewildered.
“Then, could it be…”
Tien nodded and spoke before Ma’at could finish her sentence. “It could be a memory resurfacing. You could have lived there before… well, this.”
“KOHRU. A… memory? That is not possible. Our Lord makes us fit for operating as Cogs. We are Cogs, through and through. This… island is naught but a fairytale.” The sound of multiple sparks rang out as the being turned away from them. Its heavy metal feet stomped across the concrete floor. “FOLLOW. Come and meet the Lord of Cogs. He will speak clearer than I. He is no longer tainted by false dreams.”