Micro’s first experience with sleep came to an uneventful end as birds began to sing in the trees and a little sunlight trickled down through the dense evergreen canopy.

He sat up, cringing again at the sound his rusty armour made, and stretched until his cold, stiff joints felt a bit warmer.

He looked around, and he noticed Blue had snuck into his pocket and slept among the Core Cards in his possession.

Noticing the dismantled skeleton nearby, he recalled the funerals the old man had driven him to in the past. He grabbed a half burnt stick from the smouldering fire and began to dig.

“Hmm?” Blue yawned and poked her head out of his pocket as he worked.

“What’s happening?”

“I’m going to bury him.” Micro replied while removing a large rock from the slowly widening hole.

“Why?” She tilted her head.

“Do more humans grow if you plant a dead one?”

“I don’t really know.” Micro thought for a moment.

“Maybe it’s so people don’t trip on them.”

“Hmm, that could be true. Wait, grab his boots first.”

Micro did as instructed, shaking the little bones out of each of the ancient leather boots before inserting his own feet. After figuring out which boot went on each foot, he sighed.

“What’s wrong? They looked comfortable enough.” Blue commented.

“They’re nothing like tires after all…” Micro’s complaint confused Blue, but he soon returned to the task he’d set for himself, moving his deceased benefactor’s bones into their final resting place.

After placing the cultivator’s remains in the hole and filling it back in with dirt, Micro started walking in the direction Blue had pointed the previous day.

“Oh, you remember which way to go?” Blue sounded a little surprised.

“I’m fairly good with directions, I think.”

“Well that’s one good thing about you. How is your soul feeling?”

“My soul?”

“Your chest.” Blue tapped his chest from her seat in his pocket.

“Anything feel weird in there?”

Micro frowned and held his hand to his chest, displeased by the feeling of the rusty armour, and thought for a moment.

“It feels a lot better since that school bus poked me.” He nodded.

“But it still feels wrong, somehow… like it’s all the wrong shape…”

“I guess an artificial jade core isn’t enough to contain whatever you are after all.” She looked up at Micro and sighed.

“Sorry I can’t be of more help. I’m not a cultivator after all. I just use the powers I was born with.”

“That’s okay.” Micro smiled.

“You just keep your eyes on the road.”

“What?”

“I mean, enjoy the ride. Are we near the house yet?”

“It’s not far now.” Blue squinted her glowing eyes and looked ahead.

“And it looks like there really is a human there. Let’s hope they’re as helpful as the cultivator we met last night.”

Micro was looking forward to arriving at the house. He missed the old man’s home, and he missed the garage the old man had built just for him. It had been decorated with all sorts of tools and posters, and it was never too hot or too cold.

“By the way…” Micro began.

“What?”

“I don’t have a fuel gauge, but I think I’m close to empty…” He rubbed his stomach awkwardly.

“You mean you’re hungry?”

“Ah! So that’s what it feels like. It’s different than running low on-”

“You’ve never been hungry before?”

“Well, not exactly like this.”

“Did you come from a rich family?”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Well, I guess you could say that.”

“How big?”

“Worldwide?” Micro pondered.

“Millions, maybe. It’s hard to keep track of every new model I see on the road. And there aren’t many as old as me around these days…”

“I feel like I understand less and less about you the more you talk about your past.” Blue shrugged.

“Hey, look!” She pointed straight ahead as a small wooden structure came into view.

It was barely bigger than the garage where Micro had lived, and it was made entirely of logs taken from the surrounding area. A steady stream of smoke billowed out a little chimney sticking out the side of the cabin, and flowers decorated most of the ground around it.

“I wonder if the person living here knows any snake people.” Micro thought aloud.

“What snake people?”

“Like the school bus told me to find.” He tried to recall the yellow dragon’s words.

“So I can fix my core or something.”

“Just knock on the door…” Blue rolled her eyes and jumped into his pocket to hide.

“I’ll be in here if you need me. You never know what kind of weirdo you’ll find out here.”

Micro assumed she had a good reason for hiding, and decided to press on with his current quest. He knocked on the humble wooden door, took a step back, and waited. A moment passed, and he wondered if the person living there might be out. He was about to give up on waiting when the door finally opened a crack.

“Who are you…?” Peering through the crack in the door with one squinted eye was a very old man with a long, white, scraggly beard. His frown was unwelcoming and his voice was dry and harsh.

“You shouldn’t have been able to find me…”

“I’m a Micro.”

“Who?” The scraggly old man squinted even more and opened the door just wide enough to be able to cast both eyes upon the boy with intense displeasure.

“What sect are you from? Wait, it couldn't be...”

“Sect?” Micro scratched his head while trying to recall the explanations he’d heard of what a sect was.

“I’m looking for a serpent sect, I think… or was it water…”

“You’re looking for the Water Serpent Sect?!” The elder stepped backward and gasped.

“What business could you have with those monsters?”

“I need a better core.” Micro explained casually.

“Mine is broken.”

Micro pointed to his chest with a complicated expression, and the elder’s attention fell upon his rusty chest plate. He looked at Micro intensely and his eyes began to glow the same way Blue’s sometimes did. Micro looked back with jealousy in his own eyes.

“I miss my headlights…” He mumbled and blinked a few times, confirming that no light would come out of either eye.

“Oh my…” The elders eyes, which had been squinted in suspicion since they first observed the boy, were now wide in disbelief.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met so lost a soul. You poor thing…”

The man gestured for Micro to enter the small cabin, the door creaking loudly as he opened it up the rest of the way. Micro hesitated to pass through the little door, but soon remember he was no longer as wide as he once was.

He entered the cabin and the man closed the door behind him after poking his head out to check for any other potential visitors. The cabin was mostly empty, except for a small shelf for tools, a mat on the floor, and a short table by the fireplace, on top of which a small kettle billowed steam. However, with light pouring in through the little window and heat radiating out from the fireplace, it felt comfortable to the boy.

“Here, sit.” The elder point to the floor by the table.

“Drink this.”

He quickly prepared some tea for his guest and sat across from him by the fire. Micro did his best not to choke on the tea, and enjoyed it after a few minor spills.

“This is a nice home.” Micro commented with a sincerity that surprised the old man.

“But why do you live so far from any roads?”

“Well, it’s not by choice that I’ve secluded myself here.” The old man spoke softly with sadness visible on his wrinkled face.

“But you are certainly farther from home.”

“I think so.”

“How exactly did a soul like yours find its way into this world?” The man asked with sympathy in his voice.

“And what in the world were you? A beast of the land, perhaps? Or maybe a tree?”

“I’m a truck.” Micro answered quickly.

“Weird magicians, and a goddess named Nora… They brought me here after the accident…”

“A truck… I see…” The man frowned.

“What is that?”

“It’s efficient and reliable.” Micro’s tone suddenly changed, and he smiled.

“My driver bought me after his father died because he needed help on his farm. He never ran out of things to carry, and we carried it all together.”

“So you were some sort of farm tool?” The man raised his eyebrows in dismay.

“I’ve heard stories of well loved tools and other items taking on a life of their own after many years of service to their owner, but for you to have such a strong spirit… Your owner must have cared deeply for you.”

Micro’s smile only widened at the man’s words, but he suddenly became aware that he had sprung a leak. The liquid dripping out of his eyes made his face wet, and he scrambled to stop the leak with the sleeve of his musty old shirt.

“Sorry.” The boy sniffed and mumbled.

“I’m not sure how this body works yet.”

“Those are tears.” The man said kindly.

“And you’re entitled to them after being taken from such a life and forced into such a vessel.”

He fetched a small cloth from the shelf and handed it to the sniffling boy whose smile still told of the happy memories at the forefront of his mind.

“You must miss him dearly.” He continued.

“But it’s unlikely that you’ll meet again in this life, or the next. The universe is vast, and our lives are fleeting, so we must treasure those happy moments before they are gone forever…”

A melancholy nostalgia descended on the pair, and the sound of Micro’s muffled sniffling was the only sound to join the crackling fire for a little while. Eventually he calmed enough to look back up at the man.

“I want to go home.” Micro stated plainly.

“I can’t drive myself. This isn’t right…”

“Those magicians and their evil plots…” The man shook his head in disgust.

“I’m so sorry you were taken from such a loving home, but you are bound to that vessel as long as you wish to live.”

“Oh…”

“Though crude and primitive, the magicians do seem to have constructed a vessel capable of growth.” He explained while stroking his beard.

“It is much too weak to accommodate such a remarkable soul as yours, but you have time to improve it.”

“I can improve this?” Micro looked down at his strange body. Its two legs, two arms, and utter lack of tires still disturbed him every time he thought of it.

“How?”

The man leaned in with a subtle grin and answered.

“Cultivation.”