Clakang.

After being carried some unknown distance away, I was tossed aside and slammed against the floor. The cloth veil was yanked from me, and two curious faces stared back.

Around them was a dirty room lined with aging brick walls. Bedrolls were pushed in the corner, crates and barrels stacked to the ceiling and gathering dust, and a line of candles flickered atop an empty bookshelf.

The young girl pulled her hood back, revealing a freckled face with reddish-brown hair. As with any female, a quick scan of her looks told me she was too young. Beside her, an older male, roughly in his twenties. He looked through my vending glass with a sort of feigned interest.

"It doesn't have much," the guy said.

"It doesn't need to," said the girl. "We feed it things, and it spits things out."

The guy sighed. "This is stupid. If you were gonna steal something, why didn't you steal food or weapons? Now that's something we could use." He pulled a small knife from his pocket and started poking around my visor. Tiny jolts of pain sparked through me as he tried to force me open, struggling to unlock my coin storage--or worse--my prized treasure of napkins.

"They won't let me," the girl shot back. "I beg them to let me help the cause somehow, but they keep ratting on and on that I'm too young."

"They have a point." The guy's face was reddening as he tried and failed to break open my shell. Before long, he was outright stabbing me in frustration. "This piece of shit," he grunted. "Sis, go get me the hammer."

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This lesser male was going to put dents into my pristine surface! This was an assault on my trash can sovereignty!

My tiny motors whirred as I eased the visor open, presenting him with the gift of premium napkins. His eyes brightened, and he stuck his hand in to take the bait.

Snap.

He howled in rage as he gripped his wounded fingers. "Piece of shit!" I wished that I had unlocked the ability to speak so that he could hear my wild, devilish laughter. My amusement was halted when he slammed his foot into my side.

"Take it easy," the girl said. "It probably has a human soul!"

"What?"

What? How could this dirty kid know that I was trapped in here? Did she have special magic eyes?

"You didn't know?" the girl continued. "Prisoners get their souls transported into these recyclers as punishment for their crimes."

The guy scoffed. "That's just a myth."

I drew a coin from my collection and shot it at him from the coin slot. It plinked off his knee. "Fuck."

"See?" the girl said. "I'm certain this has to be one of them!" She petted my top visor as if I were a kitten. "If we're kind, maybe it'll be kind in return."

"That's stupid," the guy said. "It's probably just an AI, and even if it was a person, it was likely a murderer or blood wizard or something."

Cling-tap!

Another coin shot out and thumped against his shin. "Piece of shit! You know what? Fuck it. Let's just smelt it down and sell the scrap!"

"No!" the girl shouted. She hugged me defensively. "We should take care of it and feed it stuff and name it and dress it and--"

"This isn't a game, Jenna," he interrupted. "We're fighting to topple the new regime, and this trash can," he gestured to me, "isn't gonna help anybody kill that dictatorial bitch, Marianna."

Click.

My glass visor shot open, and my coins poured out onto the floor like a waterfall of rattling change.