“Hey,” Shock grabbed my attention by pointing across the street, “do you still perform?”

“Hell yeah!” Just across the road was a building with my glowing red and white logo sitting just above the front entrance; it was my very own club, named Assault. I originally called it that so it could be used in conjunction with my own name (get it? Aural Assault, that sounds pretty cool, right?), but it was starting to feel like fate was playing some kind of sick joke with me.

Though, her question made me think about when I was going to be playing next. I was scheduled to be live onstage tomorrow evening, and there was a decent crowd waiting to see me play and mix some tunes. But with the recent events going on, I wasn't so sure if I'd be available.

“How famous are you nowadays?” she asked.

“Loved around the galaxy, baby.” Yeah, I wished.

The rest of our walk to Verdin Square was pretty quiet and uneventful, despite us not having caught up since the last time we hung out. Small talk was awkwardly sparse, since we were from two totally different lifestyles; I partied and raved while Shock was out saving lives. I had to give her some respect for what she did.

“I hope you don't mind me asking you to recite a few details of what happened up there,” she broke the silence.

“Ah, sure.”

“Thanks. The more detail, the better; I've been dealing with this thing for far too long, and it's high time something's done about it.”

I didn't think about it too hard about whatever her plans for this thing were. Instead, I simply fired off each of the details of the break-in as she asked for them. At least it passed the time nicely.

Just before we got to Verdin, we passed by an enormous LED billboard with countless names and numbers on it, extending pretty high in the air; a perfect contrast to the dark sky. I easily recognized what it was displaying – the global charts, as they're called. They're one of the cooler parts of Zynima: there are three broad charts that track creative talent around the planet, categorized by sight, sound, and skill. Every robot has a ranking on each chart, which makes it kind of like a worldwide high-score board. I see it more as a neat little game than anything else, but the top ranking robots are pretty well-recognized around our metropolis.

I couldn't see my name on it, though – it was only displaying the top 50 of each chart right now. I was somewhere around rank 500 on the sound chart the last time I checked.

Before much longer, we found ourselves approaching a wide open plaza with a tall, silver monolith in the centre. The area was brightened not just by the streetlights lining our path, but an effervescent arrangement of neon signs and colours as well. Welcome to Verdin Square, central Zynima. Or, at least, the miniature version of central Zynima. Even at this time of night, you could see a few robots still wandering about, since it was almost as safe as it was bright. I needed to come here more often.

“What did that message say?” Shock asked. “White robot with green spots?”

“Yeah. It didn't say where in Verdin, though.” My spirits sank a bit when I realized how non-specific that message was.

“Well, let's take a look around.”

I did just that. I spotted seven machines scattered around the plaza, minding their own business, though only one came close to matching the description. The robot in question was sitting on a bench off to the side of the open area, sporting an off-white colour scheme with light blue streaks of paint on its shoulders and chest. Nah, wrong colour.

“Yo, maybe there?” I suggested, pointing to a building with a large glowing sign, reading Packet Park. It was one of the most popular spots in Verdin, so by extension, I figured maybe our caller would be there.

“Sure,” Shock agreed.

With that, we walked across the plaza and opened the front door of the packet shop. Conveniently, it was open all six hours a day.

What a cozy atmosphere – carpeted floor, dark walls illuminated by bright lights, drapes on either side of each of the tall windows, and plenty of seats and sofas available for the taking. There weren't a whole lot of bots around, leaving most of the seats and bar stools arranged around the place vacant. However, it made it pretty easy to pick out the robot who matched the description of “white with green markings” – they were sitting on one of the bar stools near the middle of the shop with their head held low. About my height, completely white except for a few black joints, and some small green triangles decorating their legs. What a smooth chassis, too.

“Hey, do you think-” Shock whispered, tapping me on the shoulder while discreetly pointing to the robot I was just inspecting.

“...Yeah, I think,” I replied, nodding.

“You think we should go talk?”

“...I think, yeah.”

We started walking towards the white robot, but before we even got within reasonable talking range, they looked around, quickly spotting us. Their round, green eyes widened and we got stared down for a few moments, stopping us in our tracks. This was the person who messaged me, right?

The white robot turned away from us and dropped a hand to their side, discreetly beckoning us over with a subtle hand gesture. Okay, so this was the right person, but it hardly explained why they stood up and left their seat immediately after calling us over. They were heading towards the far entrance of the store, opposite of where we came from.

“Wait a moment,” Shock whispered, “wait 'til they leave.”

Obeying Shock's suggestion, we did just that. After we waited until the robot exited the store, we began trailing them from a distance, exercising a similar level of discretion. A quick look around the room told me that no one else seemed to be paying us or the white robot any mind, so I largely ignored the other machines hanging around, and we both made our way to the building's second entrance.

What was going on here? Why was this bot being so evasive?

I delicately pushed against the glass-paneled door, holding it open for my friend as we stepped back outside. We were in another narrow alleyway surrounded by the back doors of several other nearby establishments, lit up only by the lights above each of the entrances – a very jarring change from the bright lights of Verdin Square's main plaza. I kept my wits about me, half expecting an ambush of some sort, though I wasn't completely plagued by anxiety this time around. I'll give Shock's presence credit for that.

Assuming our bot had moved down the alley, we kept walking at the same pace as before. The narrow road curved right and left with sharp 90-degree corners, sloping downwards a fair bit until we could eventually see parts of nearby buildings' foundations. The paved ground slowly turned to gravel and hardened sand as we turned each corner, until we reached a much wider section of the alley. The ground dipped down even lower over the course of the next hundred feet or so, where the path branched off to a large tunnel beneath the foundation of the buildings to our right. The best part was there were no lights around this section, aside from a slight glow from the tunnel.

Thankfully, our messenger's green eyes were easily bright enough to spot in the distance. They were standing just in front of the tunnel, waiting for us as far as I could tell. Shock slowed her approach a bit, leaning over closer to me.

“They're the only machine I can detect here. I don't think it's a trap.”

Man, I loved her sometimes. With my paranoia subsiding a bit, I quickened my step along the uneven ground until Shock and I were almost face to face with our green-eyed friend.

“Come with me. We're almost there,” the robot's unexpectedly sweet and feminine voice insisted.

“Wait. Where are you taking us? And who are you?” But instead of a reply, she just walked into the tunnel. We kept marching forward in her wake, except much closer this time.

The tunnel was painted a dank shade of green, kind of like how I was starting to feel about this whole situation. The walls were eroded, the tiled ground was broken up, and this mysterious robot's secrecy made me question if this really was a good idea. At least we could see where we were going with the tunnel's lights above us, but overall, it wasn't a whole lot better than the midnight sky.

I don't think I'd ever done anything this shady before. Realizing this fact, I found it in my best interest to put my foot down before this went any further.

“Uh, stop,” I said, halting my step.

The white robot quickly spun her head around to face me, slowing her pace.

“Tell us who you are, and what you're bringing us down here for.”

“I'll explain everything, just come with me. Hurry.” She didn't stop walking; if anything, she picked up her speed.

“You're not making it very easy to trust you,” Shock commented, clearly irritated.

Well, that sure worked out.

If I was alone, no way would I have kept going. But, with Shock by my side, we reluctantly kept following the strange robot. I found myself becoming aware of every sound and movement that happened in the tunnel, no matter how insignificant. Even though Shock could detect other nearby bots, pebbles skittering across the ground or a shadow sliding across a wall could still easily be the sign of an impending attack. Every so often, the white robot would peer back in our direction as we moved along, but her gaze wasn't fixated on us. Rather, it seemed as if she was looking behind us.

“Come in here,” she urged us, ducking around an obscure alcove in the otherwise plain wall. I peeked around the corner slowly, but all we saw was a narrow hallway with another drearily painted room at the end of it.

Before I could walk in, Shock brushed me to the side and power-walked up to the white robot. I almost spoke up in response to her sudden abrasiveness, but she had already gripped the other robot's shoulder and yanked her backwards, spinning her around.

“I'd like some answers. Now. Who are you, what's going on, and why are we down here?” Shock demanded.

Ms. White Robot yelped and cowered a bit. “No, please don't hurt me! I'll talk, I'll talk! Let's please just move to this room up here – it's safer, I swear!”

“No.” Shock tightened her palm on the bot's shoulder, leaning closer to her frightened face. “Speak up. Right here, right now.”

I didn't know Shock had such a gruff side to her. The other robot let out a shaky sigh.

“Okay, okay... just... I'm scared we might be being... followed.”

“Followed?!” I shouted, perhaps unnecessarily loud.

“Why? Who would be following us?” Shock continued.

“It's... a long story. That's why I want to get in here, so we're more hidden.”

Both of us stared her down before Shock let up a bit and released her grip.

“Let's go, then.” Single file, we moved towards the small room. After the white bot walked in, but before Shock followed suit, she turned to me and whispered, “No one else nearby. We're clear.”

The room was pretty bleak. A dinky little table on the right side sat just beneath a pair of large open vents, both painted the same swampy shade of green as the tunnel. Our shady acquaintance leaned against the left wall, sliding down into a slumped sitting position. Kinda looked like a nervous wreck, to be honest. Shock and I stood on opposite sides of the doorway we came from, ensuring we couldn't be seen from the main tunnel.

“My name... is Trivo.”

“What?” Shock and I blurted simultaneously. I continued, shaking my head, “You're a fucking murder suspect!” I was ready to bolt at the first sign of anything fishy, as if these circumstances weren't already fishy enough.

“I'm not a murderer! I'm being set up,” Trivo explained, “and you're in danger, too, Aural. But I need your help.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Was she talking about my attacker?

“Listen... this killer going around Zynima? Its name is Tangent.”

“Just wait a sec. How do you know that? And explain this danger I'm supposedly in.” I crossed my arms.

“Aural, Tangent is coming after you!”

“Well, uh... I think that might've already happened.”

“Tangent found you?!” she exclaimed.

“Maybe? What does this 'Tangent' look like?”

“Uh, kinda freaky. Grey and light blue, has four arms, its eyes are two circles with lines in them, spiky crystals on its head-”

“Huh.” Her description of my attacker was spot on, from what I could remember. “So, the machine that attacked me earlier was probably Tangent, then.”

“You were seriously attacked by Tangent? And you're unharmed?” Trivo had amazement written all over her face.

I shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Trivo,” Shock butted in, “how about you tell us how you know all this.”

“I...” she paused and put a hand on her head, looking down at the ground. “I can't say...”

“Why not?” Shock pursued her question, raising her voice a bit.

“I'm scared... of what will happen if I do...”

“Scared?” I asked. “You bring us out here to tell us all of this, but you're scared to explain yourself?”

“Please, just listen to me... I just... I can't say how I know this. I know I probably seem untrustworthy, but I really need you on my side right now.”

Sure, even though you said you'd explain everything just a few minutes ago. But, oddly enough, I found myself believing Trivo after her description of Tangent matched mine.

“I don't know if Tangent is still going to come after you. If it found you once, it can find you again. We can't let that happen.”

“Well, no kidding!” I hadn't felt like this before – a sudden, foreboding feeling of terror came over me at the thought of dealing with that machine again. “What should I do about Tangent? Surely you know of a way I can stop this thing.”

“Yes! I do – I know someone who can help us stop him. Do you keep track of the global charts?”

“Let's say I do.”

“Number one on the skill chart,” Trivo explained, “do you know of Lavil?”

I'd heard the name once or twice. “Let's say I do-”

“Shh! Shut up!” Shock snapped. Trivo and I silenced ourselves immediately. She didn't follow up with anything other than a finger raised in the air, as if telling us to wait.

It soon became apparent why Shock shushed us. It was faint, but still audible: the sound of metal on metal echoed through the chamber. Somewhere in the tunnel, footsteps.

“Are those your followers?” Shock hissed.

Trivo jolted up to her feet, her body becoming visibly rigid.