My first instinct was that metal Mining Drones shouldn’t feel pain. The use of robots according to the various sources of media which I had interacted with briefly out of the massive amounts of information fed into my consciousness was purely because they would work in various conditions that standard humanoids couldn’t.
Even volcanos, massive lakes of fire and rock which came from deep under the earth and flowed to the surface and exploded in eruptions. An interesting concept, especially if they could be artificially created to destroy fortresses and battlements. I would need to verify exactly how they were produced, as being aware of a thing didn’t mean that I had the full comprehension package to go with it.
[That hurt. Not much but it hurt. Oh. I have a voice-input system, I’m not sure if I like the echo behind it though. Besides, I don’t sound like this. Pure monotone and boring. My voice is higher than this, I think. Forget it, how do you work this thing.]
I was lying on my side, or the Necro-Mecha which my consciousness operated was. The pain wasn’t entirely physical, it was closer to instinct. My mind and body were interlinked and damage to the Mining Drone however small translated into a shadow of pain. A reminder that damage to the robotic form was considered a bad thing. Much like how my human body would automatically flinch from a hot stove or when my former Master or Mistress had threatened to burn parts of my long hair off when I made a mistake.
The smell of my own burning hair was one reason I had shaved it with my meagre rations of soap and water and a bucket to catch it in. I might have been pushed to cut my own hair short to avoid punishment but I wasn’t willing to let a necromancer take any of it either.
I had stolen a knife from one of the skeleton guards, cleaned it as best as I could then heated it in a fire and burnt off what I had thought of as diseases and vile humours. I recall crying to the skeleton and even considered passing on locks of my hair to my Ladies of bone before I recalled the warnings I had heeded as a young girl.
Despite not being familiar with sorcery, in my village the Elders would warn us that if a magic wielder was able to take a lock of your hair, they could harness your life energies and even your soul. Granted that for the moment I was simply a soul or a replication of my own consciousness saved from being eaten by an Immortal without hair I didn’t even know why I was having these thoughts.
Then I remembered the image of the beautiful young noble woman in the reflected spoon with the beautiful bedroom and decorations who had plaited hair which was smooth and long.
[Necro-System. I asked you a questi-]
Before I could finish asking again, the body which I inhabited took control of my actions and flipped to a standing position once more before it squatted slightly to reduce my centre of gravity.
<…...Partial Autonomous Mode Running....>
Embarrassing. Extremely embarrassing. Funny how it never happened to bother me when I had to share a small room with my sister, change in front of her or go to the communal female showers in the village but stick me inside an advanced piece of technology which I had been given absolutely no guidance to pilot as a dead person and I was embarrassed.
If I didn’t know better I would have considered the Necro-System entirely unimpressed with the result. As it was I had the perfect solution. I’d make it take on more work for me while I took action. That was how a true High Born noblewoman would behave in my eyes, she would take charge and direct in situations, not attempt to fulfil roles or jobs which she had zero experience in.
[Necro-System, you will immediately compensate my movement if I make any errors. Adapt to my personal movement style and reduce your involvement and control as I improve. Also, the red crystal lenses are blurry at least to my eyes. They need further correction. That blue covered slab is a sight that I’m finding hard to see. No, in fact you can work on that as well. In fact do the same for the entire Necro-Mecha, adapt to my faults and errors and fill in the points where I’m failing then reduce your input as I grow more proficient. Administrator confirmation granted. Wait, is my voice audible when I’m talking aloud?]
....Autonomous Movement Correction Active…
….Scanning Host Reflex Memory….
…Adaptive Scaffolding in Place…
…Reactivating in…3…2..1…
Wait. Was I being given training wheels? I had an idea of what bicycles and other vehicles were but not all my knowledge was entirely solid. Or a driving instructor. A strange thing when the only horses in the village were used to transport broken metal weapons and armour from nearby forgotten battlefields to our smithy.
Pain entered my eyes, my incorporeal ones, deep striking pain as the metallic mock dragon form legs and arms of my present form flexed without my direct control. I was a children’s straw doll but my body was being pulled and moved without my permission, the sensation was strange but not entirely uncomfortable as my familiarity with the Necro-Mecha further increased.
The last time I had experienced this much pain was when I had been forcefully made aware through both my base intelligence and understanding to basic universal standards. I began to understand how the body operated, which parts of it were released and an awareness of parts which were simply inactive.
A sensation of strength flowed into me once more accompanied by a degree of flexibility and adaptability. I was happy with the support provided by the Necro-System, it gave support when needed and did what I said.
As a villager we had our share of cats and kittens in the village with the occasional dog but my family had banned those from our dwelling, my mother claimed they ate too much but me, my younger brother and sister used to sneak out scraps to feed the cats and kittens.
Sometimes a hungry dog would appear and we would either give it food or lead it to a neighbours home and knock on their door before running off. I never had a pet growing up, even with a wider view of the world and greater spaces beyond the notion was interesting to me.
Perhaps the Necro-System and Mining Drone were my pets and I was the keeper. A noblewoman should have fine quality pets who were maintained by servants to high standards.
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[Thank you Necro-System, you’ve helped turn this ugly dragon-form Mining Drone into a tool that can be better used with my will. Perhaps I will learn to dance when I’m back inside my virtual reality construct aptly named Castle of the Damned. My Ladies and Gentleman of Bone will learn with me and we will also dance the dance of the dead. Unless another version already exists within your data banks. Ah, you didn’t answer my question. Am I fully audible in this voice? I would like it changed. No, my mind wanders far too much.]
The object was in front of my eyes. I ignored the mounds of burned and melted flesh which made up the flesh golems and tried not to think where the sheer amount of resources to build them had come from.
My former village held at least a hundred people and when we were attacked by a roaming band of soldiers everyone except me died. At least that’s all I knew when I had scrambled across rock, mud and forest desperate to find a place of safety.
The memories were difficult to recall and some were too painful as the screams of those who had called for me help when I had spotted them hiding from the roaming band of soldiers was too much for me to bear.
[You could have saved them old necromancer. You could have saved us all if you truly wanted. Given us all a place inside your castle and kept us safe a little longer, even if you had to kill one or two of us to pay as a blood price. Soon, you’ll be mine soon.]
I understood my Ladies and Gentleman of Bone were once former skeletons and old ones at that judging from the wear and tear and colour of their bones but I had never once stopped to think if I could survive then others might have.
The mounds of flesh weren’t something I wanted to approach in the fear that I might spot a tattoo or a marking which I recognised. For all I knew it could have been my fate if I hadn’t been taken in as the apprentice of a half-sane necromancer who always covered themselves in baggy clothing, robes and spoke with a choked aged voice when near me.
Another good reason for a beating. I find that a single person from my old village was used in those...things then I’ll be even more annoyed.
The zombies and other necromantic creatures had never come across as familiar and I was thankful for that as most them had either been taken from the battlefield at the base of the mountain or wandering groups of adventurers more likely but I knew inside my heart that the necromancer was a cowardly thing and would have used fresher flesh, bone and sinew to form a final form of defence in this altar.
[Necro-System, I changed my mind. Pick up the remaining fuel in the thrower of flame and use the attachment to burn the mounds of flesh here even further. Granted that adventurers have already seen the smoke it no longer matters. I need to work out a course of quick action.]
<…...Partial Autonomous Combat Mode Running...Non-threat targeted...allocating remaining fuel reserves in basic flame thrower on targets...complete..>
I shut my eyes for this part or at least I blocked the red tinted lenses from showing me the flesh of the two abominations as the Necro-Mecha picked up the dumped mummers dragon mouth and fuel and spread it over each large corpse one by one and then setting it alight.
The heat was warm on my metal skin despite my vision being closed. I was more sensitive in this form after it had been calibrated to me. I considered how it would feel if one of the adventurers had a magic sword and decided to chop through one of my metallic arms.
Perhaps pain inside this body could be reduced or I could learn to live with it. There was a good reason that humanoid bodies had pain sensors in them. Otherwise the flesh would spoil and rot and the person would be unaware of why their limbs refused to answer and their fingers fell off.
[Proceed to the target. This will be easier than I thought. Necro-System, am I visibly audible in this form? I don’t mind the voice but mine is far more beautiful but talking aloud will make enemies see me as a direct threat. I need to appear stupid and slow to gain an advantage.]
<…..Audible Outside Access has been disabled...Internal Communications Active...>
I opened my eyes as the flesh golems burnt as the Necro-Mecha threw the now-entirely empty fuel reserve and mock dragon flame thrower to a nearby wall ignoring the noise it made as it smashed into one side of the altar room.
The bare stone tablet placed before the statue beckoned to me and in more ways than one. I sensed a residual energy within and the surface of my metal skin beckoned me towards it. Both of the flesh golems held no souls it appeared and neither served to recharge or boost my energy reserves.
The flame did kill a large number of spiders and other creatures which had made this altar room their home but I pushed aside the list of notifications of non-sentient creatures being killed. Too many lists would grow boring and I preferred to delegate as a High Born dead noble would should.
Taking a single step, my clawed metal foot crunched into the rock of the altar but failed to cause any significant damage. This place was probably the most secure inside the entire ruined castle given the presence of the statue of the Dark Emperor. I was certain that my village would have been the same. A hut entirely burnt to the ground with an altar and statue to a mad Immortal still shining freshly.
I didn’t know if the statue was going to protect the tablet or if the Dark Emperor would care that I was going to steal what was left of a soul of one of his followers but nor did I care. Even at range all he could do was protect his own altar and I knew that this was going to be far easier than I thought.
After all, the blue material covering the stone tablet began to unravel and spread out tendrils in my direction, it was made out of the same stuff as the proto-type bonding self-improvement unit. A small part of it had covered the remaining soul of my near entirely dead old Master or Mistress.
A present, wrapped up for me alone and I even had a special home for them to go into. The Seneschal of my Castle of the Damned told me he had a holding cell prepared and I couldn’t wait to see what advanced technology would give me as a torture tool.
Numbers flashed before my eyes before I took another step.
<01001000 01100001 01110010 01101110 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100110 01101111 01101111 01101100 00100000 01110111 01101000 01101111 00100000 01100010 01100101 01100001 01110100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101110 00100000 01000100 01101111 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01101011 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00101110>
The message I didn’t care to decipher. I’d do that later when the threat of the adventurers was dealt with but the intent I understood. Tools existed to be used and the half-soul of my former Master of Mistress was a useful one. Even more so than my Ladies and Gentlemen of bone although I would treat them with the kindness that the tortured dead deserved.
Through the red lenses and with the adjustment support of the Necro-System, I stepped forward with purpose and clarity snatching up the blue tendrils covering the stone tablet as I ignored the strong temptation so swipe at the hated statue of the mad Immortal who had enslaved half the population of this backwards world.
[One day ancient thing, you’ll be nothing but an ant beneath my foot. I promise you this. And if you can see me, know that the Lady of the Castle of the Damned and the owner of the Necro-Mecha will come to steal your power and give your stolen souls an afterlife they deserve. As workers in my Mining Corporation.]