The Machine flicked its head in full rotations, absorbing the area in its entirety. However, its twenty-third rotation stopped in place as a two figure popped into existence without any sign of entry.
The shorter, clearly subordinate human raised an arm as if presenting the other.
“Limb Accumbens entering for discourse,” he said, before resuming his stock-still demeanor. The Limb, however, did not carry themself with similar poise.
Their robe was similar to Amygdala’s in pattern, but stained with red liquid near the cuffs. In their hand was an ornamental chalice, similarly filled with what the Machine assumed to be some manner of alcohol.
“Yes, yes- Digit Adrenal, be silent. What have you called me for, Amygdala? I was in the middle of the most wonderful feast, yes…” the feminine voice of Accumbens slurred. As they spoke, the liquid in their cup sloshed about due to their inebriated gesturing.
“It was included in the summons, Accumbens. However, if you must be reminded, this fledgling psychic has been sent by what I assume to be a small mercenary group to assist us in retrieving the Eye Opener.”
The Machine bristled internally at the mention of the Order as a 'small' group, but silenced itself as to not interrupt.
Accumbens’ many-eyed mask blinked as they processed the statement. “Ah, yes- I suppose I do have that responsibility, don’t I…”
“Well, Digit Adrenal, please perform the recalling rite for us- I do remember issuing a bounty for its retrieval. With haste, please- I have wine to drink and dining to do.”
“Remember, Accumbens- treat this one well in my absence.”
At that, the digit muttered and spread their hands skyward, their robe expanding to encompass the room in its entirety. After a short period, the false environment around the Machine winked out of existence, revealing a completely unique structure.
Compared to the subdued demeanor of the previous abode, this was a festival. While similar to the cloaked underlings from before, they instead chattered animatedly. Another distinct feature was their seating, a resplendent dining table stretching across the entire room. Laid atop it were various beverages and foods, varied in a manner the Metro simply couldn’t provide.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
“Astounded, are we? Go on- it's natural. I’d offer you a portion, but you seem to be without the proper parts!” Accumbens joked, resting an arm on the Machine’s torso. “Well, go on- I have business to attend to. That band of hooligans and thieves is straight ahead and slightly leftwards from our merry cathedral.” she said, gesturing ambivalently to the door.
The Machine acquiesced, deciphering that this specimen would be of no assistance. Rolling ahead and passing the door, it turned slightly left from the exit and soldiered on.
It had been roughly four hours and thirty-seven minutes since Brandon informed it that he would be absent for a time. Yet he had only instructed the Machine to ping his console when it was present at the base, so it ignored the excess provided data. Nonetheless, he had also informed the Machine that he would be absent for six hours.
While processing that train of thought, the Machine spotted something within its vision. A coast, or what roughly could be labeled one.
The most striking element was the viscous green fluid barely contained by a random assortment of materials. Loose planks of wood, chunks of stone, and iron rails were the most prominent. At some portions, the liquid simply slipped past and pooled on the ground.
Laying all around the wall was an excess of clothing. Shirts, pants, shoes, and every other piece of equipment a human would wander with. Dirt marred them, pieces of scrap embedded inside.
But there was absolutely no sign of life the Machine could spot. Loose hairs were absent, bugs missing, and not a single splatter of blood to be seen. Footprints were present, but nothing else.
It was as if anyone who existed here simply… vanished. The Machine marked it as a note for the potential habitation of the nearby area, and rolled forward.
At closer examination, there was no slope or flat passage for the Machine to pass through. It ran the possibilities in its mind, and pressed its graspers against the slipshod wall.
12 potential vulnerabilities in the construction that would allow it to completely collapse a section of the wall. It selected the largest one, and slid over to the gap.
Before it could venture forward, however, it determined it necessary to test the effects of this material itself. Stretching a grasper rightwards, it put the end in front of the dripping leak.
Nothing. The liquid clung to its frame, not even registering as added weight- as if it simply possessed no weight at all. An impossible property, as far as it knew, and one that would not be in accordance with the sludge’s other attributes. It disregarded the unexplained phenomena and pried its other hand into the gap in the defenses, and dragged it out before pushing the wall with its other appendage.
With clatters and clangs, the portion in front of the Machine collapsed outwards and allowed the liquid to slowly pour out, covering it.
The Machine felt nothing, as if it was weighed down by naught but air. It rolled forth farther, submerging itself in the fluid- but there was no change. Its lower body was unable to be seen from its camera, running over bumps and sharp protrusions on the ground. But the top half was much more remarkable.
A large industrial complex loomed in the distance, towering over the ocean of green slime. Smoke poured out from chimneys, coiling around the structure like a fog.
The Machine calculated a near negligible chance of this not being its intended destination. It pinged Brandon’s console, and waited.
----------------------------------------
Samuel, otherwise known as ‘Splattershot’, is wanted for Theft of a Religious Artifact, seven counts of Lower-Class Murder, one count of Higher-Class Murder of one of our beloved Limbs, and Heresy. Reward for capture alive negotiable, reward for capture dead negotiable.
* Bounty Poster for Splattershot Sam, set by the Mind’s Eye Faith.