“K-kill someone?!” Kip stuttered, “I’ve never killed anyone in my life!”

“Perfect!” said Zeke, “This guy basically doesn’t count. He’s not even real.”

“I heard that!” Sprocket said.

“He heard that but he doesn’t feel any type of way about it,” Zeke said.

“No longer will we be under the thumb of this large oaf! We will build our own society out of this great labyrinth!”

“Maybe we can work with you? And help you with this labyrinth society?” Kip said.

“The labyrinth is only the start! We shall establish ourselves, then build our numbers and soon spread to the other floors!”

“That’s not good,” Kip turned to Zeke, “Can’t you be the one that kills him?”

“No can do,” Zeke said, “It's like these little guys said, this is about order. I could smash Sprocket but then someone else would just take his place. You gotta get in there. Do you want my axe?” Zeke showed Kip his axe. The blade alone was as big as Kip. Kip remembered what Azami had said about his combat score being zero and his biggest issue being indecision. Sprocket narrowed his eyes at Kip as Kip mulled it over. Eventually Zeke got bored and broke the silence.

“Look, buddy,” Zeke said, “Davorin is going to be brutal. No amount of sugarcoating from the bog witch is going to make this any less of a mess. Learn to get your hands dirty. Start small. Kill the clock guy.”

Every one of the clockwork people stared. Their buzzing still penetrated the entire boss room, it bounced off the tile walls. The discordance stung Kip’s sharp earholes.

“Do you have a weapon I could actually hold?” Kip asked.

“I might have a toothpick I was using.” Zeke reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a sharpened stick, small enough for Kip to hold. Kip grabbed the stick and climbed downward off of Zeke’s waist. The clockworks all stared at him. As he approached, the clockworks moved out of the way, allowing Kip entry into the circle around the throne.

“I don’t want to fight,” Kip said.

“Then submit!” Sprocket said as he got off his throne and approached.

“I don’t want to do that either.”

“Then die.” Sprocket said. He grabbed a metal pipe with gears strung through the end of it, making a dangerous shillelagh. Sprocket and Kip met. Sprocket was smaller than Kip but stared down his opponent with the intensity of an entire clock tower. Kip’s nervousness permeated every pore in his body. Zeke sat so on his hands and knees so hard it caused a thump in the room and Kip and Sprocket were lifted in the air a little before settling down.

Why am I so scared? Kip wondered, He’s a number. He shouldn’t be that hard to defeat even if I haven’t seen combat.

The clockwork served an important function in the labyrinth. They were known as ‘the numbers.’ They were easily replicable fodder that could overpower an enemy after long enough, but were mostly meant to wear them down for higher levels like Zeke. Kobolds were also often considered numbers as well; however, kobolds were generally stronger than clockwork. Generally.

Sprocket twirled his shillelagh. The gears bristled on their pipe causing a sound like shaking keys. He took on a battle ready stance.

“I challenge you by the articles of Succession to a one on one fight. First one to lose consciousness is considered the loser.”

“Oh good, you don’t want to kill me.” Kip said with a deep breath.

“I will kill you.” The clockwork said, “Death is a cessation of consciousness, is it not?”

“I- oh,” Kip said, “I suppose it is.”

“Then let us begin,” The clockwork said, “Would this circle between the other clockworks be acceptable, or would you like a different location?”

“Here is fine.” Kip said.

“MISTAKE DETECTED!” The clockwork said as he leapt at KIP. Kip stepped backward but his hands felt the wall of clockworks. He turned and saw the emotionless face of a clock with three hands on its face. When he looked back at Sprocket, the shillelagh came down. Kip rolled out of the way and slapped Sprocket with his makeshift spear. The clockwork showed no sign of pain or slowing down.

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“You gotta use the pointy side!” Zeke said with his hands around his mouth, “The pointy side, Kip!”

Kip turned the spear and jabbed at the pyramid. The pyramid ducked and Kip’s spear went through the space in the gear in his head.

“MISTAKE DETECTED!” Sprocket said as he slammed his shillelagh against Kip’s knee. Kip let out a gasp of pain and fell to his injured knee. Sprocket stood back up, now over him and stuck his bludgeon up. Kip held the toothpick to block but Sprocket’s weapon broke right through that. Kip threw one of the sticks right at the clockwork’s face, it was undeterred. Kip ran backward but there was less space to run to than before. It was as if the longer the battle went on, the more they shrunk the field.

Kip turned back, then looked at Zeke, “What the hell am I supposed to do?!” Kip demanded.

“The gear in his head!” Zeke said, “You’re supposed to stop it!”

Kip looked up at the gear rotating out of Sprocket’s point. The kobolds were the ones in charge of repairing the clockworks. He looked at the structure of Sprocket holding the shillelagh. Sprocket’s shoulder was a ballpoint, meant to give him a higher range of mobility. Originally, his elbow was too. But time wore on. Parts were lost and difficult to replace so the kobolds made due with what they had. The intersection between Sprocket’s forearm and upper arm was now a hinge joint. Kip had noticed this. He approached the machine and made sure to take one step too far.

“MISTAKE DETECTED!” Sprocket leapt forward and slammed his shillelagh down, but Kip had quickly shifted his weight to the right. Sprocket slammed the stone floor and Kip grabbed the machine’s arm.

“Mistake detected,” Kip jammed the remainder of the toothpick into a hole right under the joint. It caused Sprocket’s arm to seize up and remain completely straight.

“AH!” Sprocket yelled, it whipped its shillelagh but with its limited mobility, Kip was able to pin the arm to the ground with his foot. Kip pulled out his multi-tool and lifted the screwdriver. Kip jammed his screwdriver in the pinhole in Sprocket’s shoulder and unscrewed it.

“Desist immediately!” The clockwork yelled.

“You first!” Kip said. Kip fully cranked his screwdriver enough that it caused the crew to tighten, then Kip spun it around while the clockwork reached around its back to try to grab at Kip’s neck. Kip finished unscrewing. Sprocket attempted another swing and his entire arm flew off.

“Do you yield?” Kip asked.

“That is not how the Articles of Succession work!” Sprocket said, “We are in a fight to unconsciousness!”

“How DO I make you unconscious?” Kip asked.

“You’ll have to kill him!” Zeke yelled from his sitting position.

“The oaf is correct. You will have to cease my very existence.”

“I… don’t want to do that.”

“MISTAKE!” Sprocket yelled as he slapped Kip in the face with his other hand. Kip stepped back, his hand gripping his face. When it felt wet, he checked his palm.

“Blood?!” Kip yelled, he looked up to see that Sprocket had attached metal nails to his fingers to act as claws.

“I have made modifications.” Sprocket explained. Then Sprocket pressed the sides of the lower base pyramid and blades came out. Sprocket grabbed the base and twirled it, his face remaining detached and steady from his base form. It created a whirlybird of blades that now approached Kip.

“Dude, you don’t have to be so kind to the guy,” Zeke said, “It’s going to get you killed. Just grab the gear and rip it.”

“I dare you to try!” Sprocket said as he approached Kip. Kip turned but there was nowhere to run. The circle of clockworks had shrunk tight. As Sprocket ran at Kip, the kobold placed his foot on top of one of the clockworks.

“What are you doing?” The clockwork asked.

Kip kicked off, launching himself over Sprocket as Sprocket collided with the clockwork wall. Kip landed on his belly but scrambled up before Sprocket could turn around. Sprocket’s blades were stuck in his clockwork comrade. Kip used the opportunity and grabbed the gear on Sprocket’s head to stop it from turning.

“That’s it, brother!” Zeke yelled, “Now yank it out! Don’t worry. It won’t feel any pain!”

“Is that true?” Kip asked the clockwork.

“I do not have to tell you the truth! But it is true. One of the many reasons we are the next step in evolution and make- ahHHH!” Kip placed his hand on the clockwork’s head and began to pull the gear out, but it was nestled tightly.

“Keep going, Kip! It’s just trying to trick you!”

Kip kept pulling, he could feel the gear starting to budge by whatever mechanism held it together. With one last rip, Kip would have it.

“I’m sorry, Sprocket. But like you said, you won’t feel any pain or emotions right?”

“Tell my automaton wife, I found her most compatible.”

“Oh lord,” Kip said as he pulled the gear out. Sprocket’s blades stopped turning. His remaining hand went limp, and the light left his eyes. The clockworks stopped getting closer. They all stared at their dead leader, then turned around and went back to their stations.

“You did it, Kip!” Zeke said as he got up and approached his little buddy. Kip started picking up all the metal pieces that had fallen to the ground.

“Hey, you don’t have to pick that up. We can get some of the clockworks to do it.”

“Pass me that gear,” Kip said silently.

“It’s bent.”

“Bend it back best you can, please,” Kip said.

Zeke used his monstrous strength to bend it back to a mostly functioning circle easily. Kip had started reassembling the pieces of Sprocket that had been lost, including reattaching his arm. Kip used the pieces of his multi-tool to screw the arm back on, tighten up the spinning mechanism, and retracted the blades. Then Kip took the gear and latched it back on its axis, even taking out a small tin of oil from his utility belt and squeaking it. Kip cranked the tiny windup inside Sprocket as far as it could go and released it.

The life came back in Sprocket’s eyes as he said, “But I always wondered what it would be like to be with her sister-unit,” Sprocket looked around, “This is not the great garage in the sky.”

“No, it’s not,” Kip said, “It’s the mortal plane. Are you okay?”

“I have lost,” Sprocket said.

“You’ll live to fight another day, Sprocket. But for now… May I ask you a question?”

“Mistake detected. In asking me that, you have posed an unsolicited question… Fine. Go ahead.”

“Why not just say death? You chose to frame your challenge to me as ‘unconsciousness.’”

“The rhetoric must be clear. Were I to state death, my premise could be challenged, as it is debatable if I am alive. You must be specific per the Charter.”

Kip’s eyes went wide. Stood up and brushed off his overalls, “Zeke, I know how to save my skin!”

“Grenades?” Zeke asked.