Phanya was usually one of the last customers to eat breakfast in the mornings, but not out of any laziness. On the contrary, she spends most of the early hours making sure the food line keeps moving and that everyone makes it onto the transport for the mines. The latter was especially important because there was only one transport for each shift so anyone that missed it wouldn't get paid that day, meaning the instant that the squealing old brakes signaled its arrival there was a mad dash for everyone to get a seat. Fights rarely broke out in the rush for seating on the benches so most mornings saw her helping everyone else climb up on top of the transport and, for the real stragglers, helping them get situated for a long journey desperately clinging to the sides of the boxy vehicle.

It never made sense to Phanya why the mining company couldn't send multiple transports, but by the time she was done she was too exhausted to think much on the issue. Thankfully, the robot was quick on the uptake and learned on its own to start setting aside a healthy portion of breakfast, ensuring Phanya never had to grumble through the agonizing minutes it took for it to brew her another batch. It was actually pretty good about picking up on unspoken rules regarding how to treat people, like not to talk to Phanya when she was devouring a meal with enough intensity to leave a splash zone.

After giving assistance to over two dozen neighbors today was one such day, so several moments after breakfast Phanya didn't hang around to socialize and ducked straight out of the warehouse. A block away she stopped her brisk walk to duck behind a building, got to work, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized the robot had followed her all the way out of the warehouse.

"Good morning, Miss Phanya. Could you please escort me to the home of Mister Rethar? And why are you removing your armor?"

Phanya had barely avoided falling over from the shock, so she was left frozen in an awkward position midway out of Ry's scrap armor. She regained her composure, dropped the last of the gear, and straightened up — she might be terrible with machines, but she's seen it follow Ms. Uxral whenever she was stern. "Tapper, you are to forget you ever saw me and go back to the warehouse," she said, deepening her voice a bit to add some more authority.

The robot's eyebrows turned up then down in sadness and confusion. "Unfortunately I do not have that level of access to my memory files. And why would I want to forget you, Miss Phanya?"

Phanya grimaced slightly, why did she just feel like she kicked a pet? "No, not like that, just… nevermind. Look, can you keep a secret from Ricky?"

"As a bartender, I am duty bound to respect any secrets that do not endanger my proprietors. Or the interests of Bowson Incorporated®."

The last statement came out so quickly that Phanya barely understood it, but the important part was clear. "Yeah yeah, this falls under that. Just promise you won't tell Ry that you caught me taking off the armor."

"Of course, Miss Phanya." A beat of awkward silence as neither person moved. "So why are you removing your armor?"

Phanya sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she resumed shedding. "Because it doesn't help me. Ry's got a great idea, but the armor is way too heavy for me to wear all day. Look at me, I have a runner's build! And even if I could wear that, it still slows me down too much in an actual fight. Better off just dodging, I know how to duck and weave." The pile of armor clattered to the ground and Phanya stretched to her fullest impressive height. "So I ditch the gear, hide it, and put it back on when I'm done. Except for the gloves, they're actually perfect for punching." She wiggled her fingerless metal gauntlets and shot a few quick jabs into the air. Point made, she turned back to the robot as if that should've dismissed him. "Why are you out here, again?"

"Could you please escort me to the home of Mister Rethar? I have procured some medication for his injuries."

"You mean the injuries you gave him? Yeah sure, we'll head that way first if you can keep up." Phanya turned heel and strode into Fableton at what would have been a light jog for anyone else, and when Tapper managed to catch up she continued, "Gotta say, I didn't expect you to have all that fight in your system. And I'm real surprised Ms. Uxral still vouched for you after that little stunt."

"It was imperative that I stop a theft in progress," Tapper tried to explain, but he couldn't prevent the shame from leaking into his voice. "But Miss Uxral has explained how I shall do a better job next time."

Phanya snorted a laugh. "Yeah, next time you can just leave it to the professionals."

"And how did that title fall to you, Miss Phanya?"

The question received a noncommittal shrug from the tall woman. "I'm good at it, and I'm not good at other stuff. Plus I'm faster than nearly anyone else in town, so I'm usually the first to show up to any problems anyways. Just… finding ways to help, while I can."

Phanya's extroverted attitude had given way to something more resigned, likely because there weren't any other organics around for her to put on an act for, so Tapper decided to push the subject slightly. "While you can? Are you planning on traveling soon?"

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A second laugh from Phanya, but this one was bitter and tasted of venom. "Travel? I'm never leaving this place. None of us are, except maybe Ricky if we're really lucky. But what I'm doing now doesn't pay, and at some point I'll have to get a proper job at either the recycling center or the mines. Putting that off for as long as I can, but that's all there is for me."

Tapper had not been prepared for how quickly the mood would darken and was left floundering for a way to pivot the conversation. "But why is Mister Ricky the exception, then? Why is he leaving?"

"Because he's the only one to show any promise, of course!" Phanya answered, her voice growing noticeably louder. "Ms. Uxral tries with all of us, sure, but he's the only one born with the right brains for it. So they're all pooling their money together to send him to an actual school in the city so he can become an actual engineer, not just fiddling with garbage. He'll actually get proper tools to make things and earn some real coin and… he'll get to have a life. I'm going to miss that little twerp, but I wouldn't dream of keeping him stuck here in Skratsville with the rest of us."

The two walked in silence after that. Tapper's list of questions had grown exponentially but Miss Phanya would only ever answer but so many on the best of days, and her patience had clearly run out. So instead the robot studied their surroundings. He had never been this far out into Fableton from the warehouse, and only with this new perspective did he begin to appreciate the subtle order the town had towards its center. At least the shacks immediately surrounding the warehouse had been built in a general grid structure with enough room between them to move comfortably and trash was constantly being moved to the anomalous incinerator, but out here all forethought had evaporated. Houses crowded close enough for some to lean against each other for support and garbage piled up against the walls, throwing every narrow path into a permanent state of shade.

Phanya never wavered in her walking, but Tapper did notice her eyes lingering just a bit on every alleyway they passed by. Occasionally they would stop at a person sleeping under a shaded overhang and Phanya would attempt to rouse them awake by name, making small talk if she could and checking that they were still breathing if not. Either way she gave everyone a small bottle of water from her satchel and kept it moving, explaining only once that they were all crashing from longhaul use and would be sleeping like this for a while. Tapper knew not to prod for deeper questions this time, the anger Phanya was feeling was quiet but kept escaping through mutterings about pushers and "the system".

A handful of stops later and Fableton's layout underwent another change, moving from cramped shacks to the true outskirts of town. Here there was much more space between homes, most of which were just the hollowed out shells of vehicles instead of anything built with intent. There were also several mini dump sites for garbage to collect, which Phanya pointed out that Tapper will eventually have to start helping cart everything to the incinerator, but overall there was enough open pavement now for the wall surrounding Fableton to be seen between the structures.

Phanya made a beeline for what might have once been a bus, although it was difficult to tell with the wheels removed and half the vehicle buried under a pile of salvage, and she banged on the door with little fanfare. "Ret, you awake? We're just checking in. And we brought medicine!" But no answer came, and after knocking a few more times Phanya pried the door open and let herself in. "I'll check if he's passed out from longhaul. Tapper, go around back and see if he's lost in his pile of loot. I swear that hoarder wouldn't have to work so much if he just sold some of his skrat…"

Tapper obliged, leaving Phanya to her mutterings as he wheeled around to the back of the transport. Here he was met with a massive pile of Rethar's apparent collection, although the robot couldn't discern what purpose any of it was used for. Toilets, computers, tires, and everything in between were piled on top of each other into a haphazard pile that was deceptively sound when Tapper tried to shift anything. The only object that didn't seem wedged into place was a large tire leaning up against the side. It still took a few attempts to roll out of the way, revealing a domed interior inside of the refuse pile just large enough for a person to crawl inside.

Indeed, an organic of some sort had done just that. It was hunched over and glossy and definitely not Rethar, a pile of small spheres the size of golf balls and gray-yellow color of hard boiled egg yolks shifted and wiggled ever so slightly within a sack of pale blue jelly-like substance. It was unlike anything Tapper had ever seen and curiosity begged him to analyze it for any potential potion ingredients, but he had to crouch into the hole and get within touching distance before the green wireframe would finally appear and the knowledge started to flow in. Baron's Jam: The jelly is packed with enough nutrients to perk anyone up and fill them with vitality, whether you use it as a base for potions or spread it over breakfast toast. The new knowledge for such a beneficial ingredient should have made Tapper elated, and it did give him a flash of excitement, but he was more annoyed that he could not also determine what the spheres were despite being able to clearly see them through the layer of jelly. Maybe if he just scooped some out of the way…

[Trap disarm attempt failed]

Several other messages flashed across the darkness of Tapper's vision, but none of them were about magic or experience. These were perfectly mundane error alerts regarding damage to the unit's visual processor, exceeded limits to the audio processor, and a calibration error in the orientation matrix. The cool silence allowed Tapper all the time needed to compute what the alerts meant — he couldn't see or hear anything and couldn't tell which way was up.

[Status effects gained: Blinded, deafened, stunned, prone]

Ah, that was more like it. Various system reboots kicked in and the silence was replaced by white noise, which eventually cleared into a faint voice calling his name and a blinding light with a few unfocused blurs. His vision darkened again as something swiped across his face, and that too slowly gained definition until Phanya could barely be seen once again standing over Tapper's prone form as she kept wiping her hands over the robot's face.

"...apper? Tapper!? Can you hear me? Ricky's going to be so pissed if you got blown apart under my watch…"

[Status effects lost: Blinded, deafened]