'A guard...?' As my eyes adjusted to the new brightly illuminated environment, as opposed to the dark laboratory I was leaving, the first thing that caught my eye was the muscular hulking creature in a blue uniform right outside.
It looked quite physically strong, and the size of the metallic boxes it was stacking beside the lab door seemed to prove as such... But also, it was ignoring me. Even as it turned to walk back to the group of boxes paces away, revealing red marble-like objects where its eyes should be, it didn't even seem to register my presence.
"...a drone, then. Not a guard." An automated thing, born of both flesh and metal, focused on its given task and that only. Not dissimilar from the mechanical servants of my homeland. I followed its gait for a few more seconds before stepping out into the facility proper.
A sloped corridor opened in front of me, with tracks for some kind of moving platform in the middle. coasted by stairs. Repeatedly, I could see it open in specular larger areas on its sides, always containing an unloading dock and a drone: I could see them either working on their own loads or standing perfectly still, waiting for work. Also, repeated at regular intervals: a huge symbol on the walls.
CHECK – (INS+INS)+1 (POSSESS KEYCARD), DL 10
RESULTS – (6+6)+1=13 / CRITICAL SUCCESS!!!
The symbol resembled one presented on the keycard I had collected, which the augmentation I had been subjected to identified as a 'Level Three Keycard'... So, that's the number 3 in this alphabet. 'Also, programmed drones wouldn't need to read such things... This facility is manned.' Sooner or later I would run into someone I could demand answers from. Which meant I needed to prepare for eventual conflict.
If the keycard was for this level, then I would start by opening what doors I could to find some clothes and a tool.
An actual weapon would be best but a properly sized steel beam would do, too.
-II-
The first three locales I entered were empty labs midway through construction. Whatever this facility was, it was in the middle of expanding, which meant there was no sense in going further down, only upwards... They contained no clothes or objects that I could reliably use as weapons.
'And what do we have here?' The fourth room, though, proved much more promising.
It was some kind of disposal area. Drones threw onto a conveyor belt which fed into a large machine various objects which they collected from a large pile. I spied discarded wood, warped metal but also garments. Also, another of the drones standing in the middle of the room and this time, its eyes seemed to follow its companions. On his bare shoulder, a tattoo displayed symbols of rank.
I weighted my options. The mechanical door had opened very loudly, so if he was capable of registering a new presence, it already had. Still, no reaction... I slowly made my way towards the pile, keeping my eyes on the ranked drone. Once again, no acknowledgement.
Lastly, I bent town to touch an object from the pile. Nothing. Guarding what was deemed trash was not among its directives. Specialized programming to a fault. 'Very well, then.' Once convinced I could sift through the pile at my heart's content without intervention, I started browsing.
Definitely not the kind of garments I would usually wear and most of them were not my size. As I perused, I also noted that many sported telltale signs of violence. Rips, tears, burns, cuts, blood and other humors... Weapons were chipped, broken, shattered. I was starting to see a pattern and just as I became convinced I wouldn't find anything suitable...
You receive 1 Crude Short Sword!
The notice popped up in the periphery of my vision just my hand touched the handle of a blade. I stared it for a few seconds before grasping the handle and pulling the identified item out of the pile. I held it up high, while dismissing the screen with a touch of my free hand.
It was indeed crude, the craftmanship that produced it focused on durability than aesthetics or edge. I guessed that's how it survived the process which subtracted it to its owner. Double edged, barely shorter than one meter, with an undecorated grey grip and cross-guard... But surprisingly, it fit.
My stature made me an anomaly among even my people and a short sword for the average person would look like a dagger when held by me... I briefly asked myself if all the people on this star shared my size before remembering the amount of average-sized garments I had just explored.
'Is it luck, then? Or...' I frowned as I noticed that the blade, just like lab coat, was pristine clean while simultaneously presenting strategically placed wear as to identify it as of low quality. A complete anomaly.
Still, it was a weapon. Also, my augmentation had registered it after barely a touch...
Instead of carefully sorting through the pile, I just started randomly grabbing and throwing aside everything.
You receive 1 Tighty Whities!
You receive 1 Old Drone Armor!
You receive Promise Ring!
'This is quite ludicrous.' But it was useful, as in a matter of seconds I had recovered a pair of undergarments –immaculate-, a worn-down armor set in the style of the drones I had met –blue tunic with black and silver metal protections for torso, shoulders, groin and boots- and a ring.
The ring was worn-down gold, with a missing gemstone. Unlike everything else I had grabbed from the pile, this wasn't in a size I could wear. I could spy an incision on the inside, a name and a date. 'Useless.' It was random junk to me just as well as it was for whoever owned the facility. I moved to discard it...
But then I stopped. I looked at it, resting small in the palm of my hand, and every fiber of my being was in agreement: off with it. Who would carry around random junk just because he could?
I smirked. 'He would.' I had decided to carry myself by his standards, hadn't I? And I had indeed perused reports upon reports which detailed my friend frivolously collecting the most random of items, from potions to monster parts to fireworks to bags of scented potpourri, with a zeal bordering pathological hoarding.
Also, my more rational side met my whimsy halfway, observing that so far any object named by my augmentation had wound up helping me in some way. The armor I had found came with a pouch and carrying it around wouldn't inconvenience me none so, why not? I would carry the ring.
You discard 1 Second-Hand Lab Coat.
I drew a line on the lab coat. I could not, for the life of me, see another situation in where I would need to wear this thing. I discarded it in the pile. Then, sword stored in the armor's side-strap, I made my way to the external corridor again.
-II-
The way up led me to three more rooms. One was a storage with a large amount of sealed boxes, two more were instead sealed. Even on the same level, it seemed that my key-card didn't allow me access to all the facilities. There was a hierarchy in place... Anyway, there was nothing to it but to find the way to the upper levels.
"Warning. New individual not recognized as facility worker." At the top of the corridor, I found it, alongside the platform which the tracks belonged to. A huge sealed door with a different symbol than the ones on the wall, and guarding it were two more drones.
Of a different kind. First of, they were capable of speech... And spoke my language. Or did I speak theirs? Was this another effect of the augmentation? Second, they were armed. Their attire was quite different from that of their worker type brothers, completely covered in a resistant looking fabric. They donned a helmet, a large tower shield of metal and plastic, and carried a sturdy looking baton on their right side.
Lastly the worker drones, for the pale pigmentation I had observed on them, seemed to be intact. These two guard drones sported large stitches under their helmets connecting different shades of skin. As if someone had built them out of spare human parts made to fit. "Assessment: new individual classified as Wayward Specimen." The second of the two chimed in. They had realized I wasn't supposed to be out of my cage.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"Hmph. And what if I am?" I answered, sizing the two up. They seemed strong enough physically, but their weapons didn't seem inherently lethal.
"Warning: specimen is to return to enclosure." I wasn't fully familiar with the material of batons and shield but, could I summon my original strength, cutting through it would still be no issue.
"I refuse." In my weakened state, aiming for the limbs would be the safest bet. The fabric looked sturdy but not invincible.
"Last warning!" Mechanically, in unison, their right hands grasped and brandished the batons. Not a second out of sync. "Failure to comply will incite violent response!"
"Hah! I had been itching to test my current capabilities..." I responded in tone, the sword leaving the confines of my strap as I fell into a martial pose. "Very well, then! I welcome your violent response, drones! Come meet your end as a notch on my blade!"
BATTLE START ????? VS 2 RIOT DRONES
INITIATIVE (DEX+INS) VS INITIATIVE LVL ????? - (2+1) - 2[ARMOR] - 2[OBSERVING] = -1 RIOT DRONE = 4 RIOT DRONE = 4
I chose to leave the first attack to my opponents, to gauge their actions and movements. They charged at me from opposing sides, attempting a pincher maneuver in the limited space of the platform. Their path was mechanical, optimized to a fault. No flourishes, no imperfection. Just crude calculation.
RIOT DRONE Attacks! (DEX+MIG) (1+7)=8 MISS!
One was upon me before its twin, baton swinging from his right, aiming for my head... I crouched, the hit only hitting strands of hair. 'Let's see how sturdy.' I sprung back up and forward, aiming for its now exposed side.
????? Attacks! (DEX+MIG) (6+8)+1=14 HIT! DAMAGE: 8+6=14
The blade struck true, cutting through fabric, flesh and bone, and the forward step brought me behind the duo of attackers after the swing concluded. I found myself frowning. 'My body is very much weakened.' The strength of the blow had been disappointing, the speed pedestrian. By the time I was turning around, the uninjured of the two was already upon me.
RIOT DRONE Attacks! (DEX+MIG) (5+3)=8 MISS!
I sidestepped the descending blow. My counter aimed for its exposed chest with an upwards slice.
????? Attacks! (DEX+MIG) (4+3)+1=8 HIT! DAMAGE: 3+6=9
My blow struck true, cutting through the fabric and the skin of its chin... But the blade stopped at the bone, which I found odd. Freeing my blade, I jumped back as the second drone stumbled, while its companion was already on its feet... Seemingly unaffected by the cut in its side. I glanced down at my blade.
'Alive and yet unalive.' What sullied the edge wasn't blood but a stickier, denser black liquid. Choice amounts of it leaked from the cuts I had inflicted but neither in the amounts I would expect from its crimson cousin. "...hm." I raised my blade again as the duo prepared for another exchange. "Limbs it is." Yet, the resistance I had felt when attempting to cut the second one's jaw...
The one I had cut in the side rushed forward again, baton held high. Unlike earlier, he unleashed a battle cry...
RIOT DRONE uses BATON SMASH! (DEX+MIG) (5+5)+5=15 HIT! DAMAGE: 5+5=10
And as I prepared for a hit of the same speed and intensity, my eyes caught a transformation happening to the brandishing arm. With loud sounds of crunching bone and snapping sinew, I saw the muscles expand until the fabric ripped to reveal purple and bone white skin.
I raised my left arm and parried the blow, impact reverberating throughout my body. 'Augmented strength, hm?' A part of me wondered if their strength stopped at that enhanced level or if they were capable of augmenting it infinitely. Also, if their bodies could withstand it.
It was a short lived curiosity. As I was in that moment, I could not indulge it. I pushed upward and off, and figured that if my opponent had already injured itself in its last attack the offended arm would be an optimal target. I swung with both hands at the exposed bicep...
????? Attacks! (DEX+MIG) (6+6)+1=13 CRITICAL HIT! DAMAGE: 6+6=12 RIOT DRONE is Weakened!
The blade cut through flesh and broken bone alike, whatever its actual material was. The cut off arm fell to the ground, hand still grasping onto the baton. Its companion was already upon me, a similar battle cry echoing gutturally.
RIOT DRONE uses BATON SMASH! (DEX+MIG) (2+1)+5=8 MISS!
I was this time ready, and its attack ruinously slammed on the metal platform, with enough force to dent it... Leaving him completely exposed.
????? Attacks! (DEX+MIG) (8+8)+1=17 CRITICAL HIT! DAMAGE: 8+6=14 RIOT DRONE is Weakened!
I cut off its ruined arm as well with a sideward swing, then raised my right leg and kicked him in the face, sending him slamming backwards on the metallic floor. 'I'm right about done, here.' I mused to myself before turning my attention to the first of the two. I found it scrambling pathetically to remove the baton from its cut off arm.
With the arm still connected with the giant shield sturdy enough to be used as an offensive weapon. I sighed.
????? Attacks! (DEX+MIG) (3+3)+1=7 HIT! DAMAGE: 3+6=9
I kicked him over, exposing the side I had already cut open. Raising my blade high above my head and sliced down.
The blade echoed loudly as it slammed against the platform's metal, and the drone didn't voice any discomfort despite its bisection. Its brother was, similarly, obeying inferior programming and grasping for its weapon instead of attacking me...
????? Attacks! (DEX+MIG) (1+6)+1=8 HIT! DAMAGE: 6+6=12
I took two methodical steps in its direction, allowing the task to be finished. The moment the drone managed to disentangle the baton from its lost arm, it raised its head to look at me. It found nothing but a mask of boredom.
Subsequently, its head was no longer sticking to its neck.
?????'s PARTY WINS EXP REWARD: 10 POINTS
"Alert... Specimen... possesses considerable fighting abilities..." I had barely swung the blade to cleanse it of their fake blood that the drone with a head still attached to the rest of the body proved that, while not being able to oppose me anymore, they could still prove themselves inconveniences. "Putting all guard units... on high alert..." Bodies broken apparently beyond repair, and yet they still couldn't shuffle their mortal coil... If they were alive to begin with.
I felt a brief kinship.
'Even in my current state, they didn't provide much of a challenge. Although a great number of them may eventually wear me down.' I placed my blade back in its scabbard and as I did, I noticed the chipping that slicing through their bodies had caused. The sword wouldn't survive many more fights with similarly sturdy opponents.
Which, if the now silent drone's declaration was any hint, would lie in wait. If part of me welcomed the final curtain, I was also painfully aware by then that by my own hand, I had moored myself among the living. At best, I would end up a helpless captive.
That would not stand. I turned my attention to the large doors.
The keycard proved useful, still, and they slowly slid open with a pneumatic hiss. 'Venturing through an unknown environment, fighting unfamiliar beasts, with limited resources. Looking for answers, an exit, maybe boons.' The kind of situation that would make my dear friend drool at the mouth...
So be it. My current power properly tested, I renewed my vow. "An opportunity presents itself to walk the path of another in my own body. I shall grasp it, then, Warrior."
And may I partake of your strength.