Three wagons, eight NPCs, four world famous players, and one solo streamer passed under the glorious arch. Tall and Narrow. Gold plated. Carved with the abstract history of the drones. The entrance, busy with ordered traffic, opened to an unreal cavern. More of an underground valley, really.
The walls distant, faded behind shimmering air. A spiral ramp circled the cavern with at least thirty layers with a multitude of stairs to switch between the levels. The path went way up, up and into the domed ceiling.
Different kind of drones hovered or walked in harmony. They carried resources in or products out.
Their teamed song played in Enoch’s brain, adapted by the AI to his filters. The drones themselves hummed a melody of clear flute notes. The only buildings were giant chimes, made from different metals, copper, iron, gold. Erected as churches. Embellished with fractal patterns. Different sizes and shapes for different notes. Their polished surfaces caught pink lights at random, reflected in a strange, inverted kaleidoscope.
Bright cores shone. The crowd circling them with reverence.
The stale air of the tunnels refreshed itself in a vortex of ventilation, bringing the bitter taste of metal to Enoch’s enhanced sense of smell.
Four guards gave the group a polite amount of time to take it all in, then reached them through the traffic, perfectly synchronized. Not a word. Drones communicated with emotions.
These four radiated a warm welcome over a bed of prudence. Their feelings jumped, surprised, curiosity hit, followed by exited joy.
Tatiana jumped from a wagon, said, “no point in delaying any further.” The major and Enoch shrugged as the blacksmith’s boss opened the small hatch, stuck her arm deep in it, opening the bigger hatch. Intense pink light erupted. Merged its heat to the cavern’s winds.
Wholesome joy erupted into a wave from the drones, spreading unended to the whole hive.
***
A tall drone, iron gray, escorted the caravan. It glided smoothly over six tubular legs ending in three-pronged pincers. Its arsenal hidden under layers of armor, stacked in an amalgam of spheres around its torse.
A tiny copper bee thing flew around the giant, radiating orders to nearby drones, parting the orderly horde to let them pass. Twelve golden prisms marched in a circle around the new the wagons, the three hatches open, drones of all kind landing to salute them, pulsating their own welcome.
Drones. Animated by individual souls. Their society past human comprehension, joined in a selfless hive. The many before the few. The few before the individual. One to save two. Two to save hundred. Hard to argue with math.
The procession continued at a slow pace. The humans seemingly forgotten. Art Delvers mostly silent. Anton grinning. Turner kneeling at the front of a wagon, dramatic. Ally circling the group from a distance, navigating the metallic crowd with grace. Tetsuo hypervigilant.
The three Bonded Artifacts who could fly danced together, basking in the warm ambiance.
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Nothing to do for Enoch. He knew enough about the game to relax in good conscience. Nothing bad would reach them here, or if did, it would be so massively overpowered that nothing could be done to opposed it. The chat entertained Enoch for once.
“Never saw the Hive in a live game. Impressive.”
“Not bad. You should see the lair of a Tyrant Dragon.”
“Seen both. The Hive is better.”
“A Tyrant would wipe the whole place. Easy.”
“You never saw a Hero Drone in action. That’s some serious stuff and there must be at least five or six in a Hive of that size.”
“One Breath of Annihilation and it would all be over.”
“Not even close, you clearly haven’t seen the armor on a Hero Drone.”
“Nerds” Tag | Little bro
His brother had too much attitude. He would have to work on that.
Enoch went in close to a random drone. He enjoyed the sudden rush of embarrassment emanated by the creature. They were cute. Tiny gears turning in a mad montage, springs, pins, shafts and drums. Exquisite craftmanship. Layers of armor half hiding the mechanisms. Fascinating.
The wagons cores pushed waves of emotions and imagery. Telling their own tale. Trapped by the Hollows. Used as food. Saved by a strange band of humans. Brought to the surface. The sun. The sea of moons. Ooloo the giant planet, omnipresent, radiating Mana. All Drones should go. Trips should be planned.
And the forges. Restraining themselves to power the silly things. Watching the monkeys pound pieces of hot metal around them. No attention. Neglected. Used.
They had been saved then parked for decades.
Enoch glanced at Tatiana and her one remaining blacksmith. Both had wide eyes. Their AI broken by the realisation. That much was obvious.
Grateful. In the end. So many had died to bring them back. Primitives with a good hearth.
Enoch closed in on Tatiana, said “how come you never felt their presence?”
“We did, from time to time, a fleeting thought quickly gone. Easily mistaken for our own imagination.”
They kept on marching in silence, listening to the Drones’ strange form of communication.
Tatiana said, “they held back from some reason, I never felt anything close to this in the forge.”
Enoch said, “too good for their own good. Probably felt guilty after the rescue. Embarrassed somehow.”
The ambient emotions singled out Enoch. Acknowledged his insight, his status as an Outsider and his outstanding contribution as a scout. Quick monkey.
Anton slapped Enoch too hard on the back. Laughing as the procession spread over a circle of paved stones. A table arrived, carried by tiny drones, their carapace painted with white enamel, silver antenna swirling with out practical function.
More of them came, playing an intense tune, frantic for frenetic work. They buzzed about quickly. Bowls, spoons, and all the trappings of the bourgeoisie.
Followed a bland and uninspired vegetarian meal. Fair enough for a specie with out taste buds.
The long-lost cores continued their communion until a disturbance interrupted them. A giant drone. Its top appeared first, towering over its peers. Shaped as a locomotive. Emerald green. Its pink inner light observed the human with amused kindness. An advanced spirit, curious about the strange monkeys who had brought the Hive so much joy. Flawed as they may be.
Art Delvers and Enoch grinned. Knowing what was coming. They slapped each other. Enoch only on the receiving end. Tetsuo even winked at him.
Its presence undeniable, the Enchanter Drone stopped mere feet from the humans. A catchy tune played. Quest completed.
Homecoming | Faction Quest | Rarity 9
Bring lost cores to the Hive.
Reward | 4 400 XP | A Drone Artefact | x3
Gratitude fell on the players, manifested by the powerful drone, forced on their neurones by their VR rigs, long forgotten.
Tetsuo pushed Enoch forward, said “You go first. You’ve been waiting long enough.”
Enoch didn’t protest. His body moving forward. Eager. Silent communication between the mechanical mystic and the Outsider. A hatch opened along the side of the giant. Human sized. Filled to the brim with multiarticulate, insectoid legs ending in pincers, saws, prodders, needles, chisels and many others, innumerable thing.
It took quite a state of mind to willingly walk into that dark place. Hints of pink light diffused behind the gears of the Enchanter’s underbelly.
Plenty enough for Enoch’s Dark Vision. He walked in the nightmarish nook with a smile. A pressure valve let out a stream of pink Mana and the hatch closed.
The peg leg left behind. Discarded outside of the benevolent beast.