"Shock... would you be able to... maybe talk to Xaita for us?” Trivo peeped, pressing two of her fingers together. “This isn't just some random bad feeling. There's something over there causing this to happen to us.”

I nodded in agreement. Her idea was sound, and I couldn't think of anything better given the weird circumstances.

“How about I see if Xaita will come out here and talk to us?” Shock suggested.

“What if Xaita is the cause of this...?” I made sure to keep my voice down.

“Well, guess we're going to find out.” With that, Shock walked over to Maestro Bar's front window. Trivo and I remained where we were, anxiously watching Shock with immense focus.

“...Hi, hi. Are you Xaita?” Shock was still in earshot, but we couldn't hear Xaita's voice from our distance. “Fantastic. My name is Shock System. I'm with a couple of other bots who'd like to talk to you, if you're interested in sparing a moment for us... Yeah, they're just right over there. They said they were really apprehensive, so I'm just here to ask on their behalf... We were all sent here by Lavil; do you know him?... You do! Great... Okay.”

Shock gave us a thumbs up as she walked up to one of the doors on the far side of the shop. A few seconds later, a dark green robot with a t-shirt and shorts walked out, joined Shock, and walked towards us.

“Hey guys, what up?” She abruptly paused, pointing at me. “Hey, you're that robot I talked with in Grilith a couple days ago, aren't you?”

...Oh, wow, she was right. That dark green bot with the gravelly voice and t-shirt with the gear emblem on it – it was her!

“Yo, hi! You're Xaita, if I'm not mistaken?”

“Right are you,” she cheerfully answered.

“Cool! Lavil told us to come over to your shop here and see if you might be able to help us with a couple things.” I was so focused on our previous encounter in Grilith that I almost didn't notice there was none of that weird apprehension when Xaita came near. The dread didn't seem to be emanating from her.

“Lavil, eh? The new one or the old one?” She looked down and counted on her fingers while speaking.

“Uhh, I'm not sure. Lavil II, if that helps?”

“Gotcha. She's the old one. Lavil III is the new one.”

Huh? “Wait, hold on a sec – Lavil is a she?” Had we been calling Lavil the wrong gender this whole time?

“Well...!” Xaita tilted her head a bit, placing a few fingers on her cheek. “The Lavil models are kind of androgynous, so I don't think she cares what you call her. But I like to call her a lady. She'd have definitely told you by now if she had a problem with it.”

“True enough.” Seeing as we were all used to knowing Lavil as a guy, I figured I'd just stick with that. “So, anyways... can we ask a couple of questions?”

“Sure, but only because you've got the VIP pass a la Lavil II's recommendation. I do owe her.” Xaita crossed her arms, not making it terribly obvious if she was being sarcastic or not.

“Okay! Well, first of all, there's something strange going on around this area. When me and my friend, here...” I gestured to Trivo as I began my explanation, “if we walk too close to your shop, we... we lock up, for lack of a better term. We're both overrun with crippling apprehension and neither of us are able to talk. But my friend, Shock, she's just fine. And... it's not, like, just some random feeling we're getting. There's definitely something over here making us act funny.”

Xaita tilted her head. “Crippling apprehension, eh? That's no good. I'm not accusing you of lying or anything, but I mean, I certainly don't feel it...”

“I don't either,” Shock added. ”Is there maybe something in or near your shop emitting this... aura?” She shrugged.

“Don't think so.” Xaita sounded skeptical. “You're one of the first to complain about anything like that. Although... I did just get an internal security upgrade yesterday. Maybe that's why I'm unaffected.”

“Security upgrade... what exactly did you get upgraded? If you can't feel it, and you just got a security upgrade, it's not much of a stretch to say that's why you're fine right now.”

“It's an experimental build of a wireless intrusion detection system. Good ol' Mister History hooked me up with it. He told me it had some... new... firewall or something. Honestly, I can't remember exactly what he said!” Xaita giggled, rubbing the back of her head. “I ain't an expert on software myself, but I've known him for a long time. I trust him and his experiments.”

I hadn't heard of the fellow she was talking about. “Sounds like this guy might be on to something, this History guy.”

“He's a good person. He helps manage the data archives of the city's network, and he also teaches bots about the planet's history in his spare time. Hence the name.”

“Do you know where we might be able to find him?” It wouldn't hurt to figure out where we could get in touch with someone like him.

“I'd be happy to tell you, but the only time I've ever see him is when he's teaching his history class or if he has something important to talk to me about. Not the easiest guy to get in touch with. Maybe you could try to meet him after his class is over one day?”

I tried to sneak a word in, but Xaita continued before I could say “eh, I'm not one for classrooms.”

“Over by the main desert road that goes straight into the city, there's an archive storage building on the left side.” She pointed in the general direction of the city's huge main road. “It's not labeled, but it has a short bridge from the road to the archive's entrance. Go up two floors and that's where he'll be when he teaches. Don't go bothering any of his classes, though! Catch him after a session, or maybe you could listen in if you want. Anyone can drop in or out, as long as you don't make a ruckus along the way. A couple dozen–”

“Thank you,” Shock interrupted, “we'll go find him if we get the chance.” Her tone perfectly conveyed the intention behind her words.

“...No need to be rude, miss.” Xaita didn't sound particularly enthused.

“Well, that's not so important right now,” I butted in, hurriedly changing the subject before any tension grew (I was getting good at that). “The main reason Lavil sent us here is about your desert truck.”

Xaita gave me a curious look. “...Is that so? What about it?”

“You know the derelict MSE ship out in the desert?”

“Sure, I've seen it.”

“What are the odds we could coerce you into giving us a lift there and back?” Asking strangers for favours wasn't my favourite way of spending the morning, but this was far too important to let go.

“Eeeh...” Xaita put a few fingers on her chin again. “Not today, that's for sure. It's quiet now, but I've got a super busy day ahead of me. New product going up for sale, sure to attract lots of customers.”

Damnit. I kinda got the impression it was half true, half excuse.

“Right, right. That's fair. Thanks a ton for the consideration, though.”

Shock hummed in agreement as well.

“Say... come back tomorrow. I'll see what I can do for you, if you still need a hand.”

I quickly perked up. “Sure! Okay, sounds good. Oh, and, hey, there's just one more thing I want to ask you, if you don't mind.”

“Quick, quick.”

“Uh, well...” I looked to Trivo and motioned for her to continue where I left off.

She took a step forward. “Xaita, do you have any knowledge on how to create a central processing unit for a robot?”

Xaita laughed. “Out of luck there, I'm afraid,” she drearily replied. “The only thing I know about building robot parts is that most of it gets done in a factory on the other end of the city. I haven't been there, nor do I know what even happens in there.”

“You sell machinery here, correct?” Shock asked.

“Well, yes, but I don't make the complicated stuff myself.”

“Ah. Okay.”

“Yep. I gotta get goin' though – lots of work to be done. Cruise smooth, girls.” Xaita waved to us as she walked back to the door she met Shock at.

“Take care, Xaita,” Shock finished off our conversation for us.

...

I huffed once we were out of earshot. Now what?

Shock looked at me. I dodged her gaze by looking over at Trivo, who was eyeing us both down.

Shock sighed. Trivo looked just as disappointed.

“Well... now what?” I voiced my thoughts, flinging my arms out to the side.

“What if we visited the factory Xaita mentioned?” Shock suggested, stopping my whining for a moment as I listened in. “Something tells me it's not going to be as simple as slapping a piece of equipment together willy-nilly, especially something more powerful than what you all already use, but I suppose it'd be good to get closure on the issue. Plus, it doesn't sound like we're going out in the desert any time soon.”

“It's just a theory, though,” Trivo reminded us. “I-I don't know for sure if that's how Tangent works or not. It would make sense, but it's not a guarantee.”

Shock looked a bit off-put. “If it's a possibility, I think we should see it out to the end. Anything to help give us an edge would be nice, and it's not like we have any other leads right now.”

I stepped forward and put a hand on my hip. “Why don't we go as a group?”

“I'm going to go give Lavil a visit first,” Shock replied. “See if he's found anything or knows anything about that whole anxiety aura or whatnot.” She air-quoted “anxiety aura.”

“Good idea. May I please come too?” Trivo asked ever so politely.

“I'm not stopping you.”

Trivo excitedly clapped, her eyes smiling in lieu of a mouth. Gosh, that's cute.

I looked down at myself, remembering my trip through that desert complex where we saved Trivo. I wiped the area just above the speakers on my chest – still caked with dust and soot. Yeegh.

“If you two don't mind, I'm gonna go to a body shop and get myself cleaned up. I'll meet you guys back at the hideout in a while.” Realizing just how filthy I was this whole time was a little bit embarrassing. Or, well, maybe not; maybe it made me look more rugged. Maybe it made me look tough. Or... maybe not.

“Go take a shower, sure. I'll bring her back to Lavil.” Shock tapped Trivo on the shoulder as she spun around. “Meet us when you're done, yeah? Don't make me wait.” Her voice was as flat as ever.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Having a plan pumped me up, even if it was pathetically unlikely to yield results. “Okay! I'll see you soon.” I took off, waving back to Shock and Trivo as I ran.

“Be good!” Trivo gleefully waved farewell as she followed Shock, who was already walking back to our hideout's side road from the plaza we stood in.

More machines were starting to leave their homes and go about their daily lives, meandering up and down the roads, playing, working, and everything in between. Good morning, everyone.

As I made my way down the side of a familiar, brownish-orange street towards a nearby body shop for a wash, I was free to ponder my thoughts about everything that was going on.

Attacked by a serial killer? Meeting up with strange robots out of the blue because of it? Some suspicious gang(?) involvement with Lavil and Trivo...? Not to mention the aura we just encountered. Rescuing Trivo from that weird place in the desert? Oh, and don't forget the message from “Lacuna” calling us out to the spaceship in the desert.

At the beginning of this disaster, I would have played it off as terrible luck, but now, it was becoming far too widespread and coincidental for everything to not be connected somehow. I just wasn't sure how to connect the dots. For a moment, I kinda doubted my desire to get to the bottom of it all, but I also didn't want to leave it be and continue sitting in Tangent's crosshairs.

“Silver Wash,” read the big sign above me, completed by the image of a water droplet behind the shop's name. This was the place I got to take advantage of my waterproof build (and for free, too!). I took one last look at the amber sky glowing beyond the towering buildings above, and then I stepped inside the relatively dim body shop.

Empty, save for one tall, grey and orange bot sitting down on the oddly extravagant velvet sofa against the wall opposite of the shower booths. Said robot seemed to be puttering away on a laptop computer, minding their own business, so I placed my guitar down against the nearby wall, walked into one of the booths, and shut the glass door behind me.

“Why, isn't this a familiar face, no?” the couch robot called out, presumably to me.

So much for minding his own business. That voice was vaguely familiar... but I couldn't put my finger on where I knew it from.

“I don't blame you if you don't remember me. Our encounter was rather fleeting, after all!” he sang, his voice filled with energy.

I turned around and got a good look at him through the glass door: very tall, dark grey, two orange horizontal lines for eyes, a big, orange semicircle smile. Unmistakable.

“Hold on, I think I do recognize you... back in Grilith, aren't you the robot who was hanging out with Xaita on the bottom floor?”

“Ding ding ding! You are absolutely correct, my friend,” the robot announced. “What might your name be?”

What a charming bot. “Call me Aural.”

“Aural it is!” he bellowed, raising his arms in the air in a celebratory fashion. “The name's Historical. Pleasure to officially meet you.”

“Likewise!”

Historical crossed his legs and propped the computer back up on his lap.

...Seconds later, my neural network made a really obvious connection.

“Do people also call you Mister History?”

He chuckled. “I have a lot of nicknames, and that is surely one of them.”

“No way! I was just talking to Xaita about you a little while ago.”

“Good things, I hope?”

I nodded. “You manage some archives and teach robots about history, right?”

“That is most certainly correct! You know your stuff.”

With no warning, the nozzles just above me violently sprayed me with water, completely catching me off guard. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to not be waterproof; having to meticulously – and cautiously – clean every surface manually sounded like a nightmare.

“Did you ever find the Lavil you were looking for up in Grilith?” Historical casually asked me while I flailed around, struggling to fight off the high pressure streams of water.

“Y-yeah!” I answered as soon as I could find an opening where my speakers weren't being sprayed down. “Lavil II, he was up there! And it was okay–”

Water on the speakers.

“–It was okay. We got it all... figured out.”

The water stopped. Sweet relief, if only for a moment.

“That race sure was something, no? Did you catch the end of it?” Historical crossed his legs in the other direction.

“Race... I don't think I'm familiar.” I vaguely recalled someone at Grilith mentioning there was a race of some sort, but that's about all I knew.

“My apologies; let me fill you in! There was a long-awaited race around Grilith Tower just ending when you'd arrived and talked with Xaita and me. Anyone is allowed to participate if they're feeling brave enough to tackle Grilith's course, but the race has special significance for the Lavil series,” he explained, not even waiting to see if I was interested in the first place.

“What's that?” I humoured him.

Historical looked up at me. “The Lavil robots are built to be the quickest machines on the planet. So, their creators are always making new models and adjusting each of the newer ones, right?”

“Makes sense.”

My vision suddenly went black.

Blinding soap spray had covered my face in an instant. No warning, like usual.

“The current Lavil model – in this case, Lavil II – and the new model – Lavil III – will always participate in Grilith Tower's race when it occurs,” he continued, ignoring my soapy struggles. “If the current model wins the race, or otherwise places ahead of the new model, the new model is brought back to the workshop and tweaked up to make it better. However, If the new model wins the race...”

“Mhm?”

“Then the current model will be destroyed.”

That caught me off guard more than the soap spray.

“You mean, if Lavil III had've beaten Lavil II in that race, then Lavil II would've been killed?”

“Regrettably, yes.”

“G-geez.” I would never have guessed that Lavil had just finished a race for his life moments before I met him. This new bit of information made me wonder about how different this all would have been if Lavil II had lost. Would III be nicer than II? Would III know about the whole situation he and Trivo are in? Would III even know Trivo? Would III even bother with us...?

It made me look at II in a different light.

“You... hanging in over there?” Historical snapped me out of my thoughts, tilting his head while he spoke. “I hope that wasn't too disturbing.”

“Oh, no, no, I was just taking it all in. I didn't know that about Lavil. Not as disturbing as it is surprising.”

“Good! If I ever cross any lines, please let me know.” He looked back down at his computer.

The jets of water started up again. At least I was more ready than last time.

“Who is it that creates the Lavil series?” I asked, expertly blocking the water jets to slip out a few words.

“...Even more regrettably, I do not know. I've heard rumours that it's a very reclusive group of roboticists down in Zynima's underground, far below the city.”

This guy was almost throwing information at me faster than I could keep up. “I figured there has to be like... mines and caves underground beneath the surface, but from the way you're speaking, it sounds like “the underground” is something else entirely.”

“And something else it is. Or, at least, it's supposedly something. I haven't been there myself, nor do I know if it's even real, but I've heard some compelling stories from a few reputable people. They talk about huge buildings, vast caves filled with a thick, red fog, and aggressive machines corrupt beyond sensibility.

It almost sounds like some tall tale, right? However... one detail remains consistent between anecdotes: they all mention the Siphon Yard on the outskirts of the city, where all those misfit TV-heads find refuge. It apparently hides some entrance to the underground city.” Historical laughed. “I apologize, Aural, I'm a bit of a rambler.”

“It's cool! Nothing doing in here.” Truth be told, I was rather enjoying his rambling. “It is a lot to take in, though.”

He chuckled again. “Apologies! I'll slow down a bit.”

The water stopped a few seconds after I spoke, and I was not ready for the intensity of the hot air fans that blasted me from above almost immediately after. It almost knocked me off balance when it started, just like the first bout of water. These things need alarms...!

Once I got my balance, I thought about what Historical just said; the Siphon Yard was something I did know about. Like he mentioned, off in the city's outskirts was a vast scrapyard inhabited by TV-heads who were either high in corruption or just plain deranged and unpredictable. The “siphon” part of the name comes from their habits of draining unsuspecting machines of fluids and disassembling them shortly after. What they do with those parts and liquids, no one knows for sure, but it's easy to make an educated guess.

So, not the most appealing place. It kinda gives TV-heads a mixed reputation in the city.

The air jets stopped. I was finally free, and squeaky clean to boot.

“What are you up to here, anyways?” I asked on a whim as I opened the glass door to my shower booth and stepped out.

“Ahh, just waiting for someone.”

“Xaita said you're not an easy person to get a hold of. Funny, meeting you here.”

Historical laughed. “She's not wrong! I've got a strict schedule, and I have to stick to it. Nothing would get done, otherwise! Archival isn't an easy job in this city.”

I chuckled in response to his jovial attitude. “Make sense. Xaita also said you gave her a security upgrade too?”

“Indeed. She's like my guinea pig, for lack of a better term!” He laughed some more. “I let her try out the beta versions of everything I create.”

“Is it okay if I ask what exactly was in her security upgrade? I have a theory about something, and she got me curious.” I decided to not to mention the “aura”, suspecting he'd think of it as nonsense.

“Oh, nothing much! It was just a new version of intrusion detection software to help stop a couple of obscure viruses I learned of recently.” He stood up, easily towering above me.

“Gotcha, gotcha.” So it was for viruses, not inexplicable anxiety auras. Probably wasn't a connection, then, but I didn't totally dismiss the idea.

Historical walked over to the shop's front window and looked outside. Seizing the opportunity, I flopped down on the couch, taking a few needed moments of R&R. Damn, that couch was obnoxiously comfy.

“Not much help, I'm guessing?” He held a palm in the air as he spoke.

“Oh, uh, it's fine! It's kind of a niche thing I'm trying to figure out. No worries.”

“Niche, hmm? Niche is my speciality! If you have questions, it's very likely I have answers.” He leaned down, looking closely at the window. “...Is that a friend of yours, out there?”

I hummed, standing back up to go look through the window with Historical. Shock, Trivo, and Lavil were all at the home base; who could he have been talking about?

“See the machine, out there?” He pointed in the general direction of the suspected friend.

I saw him immediately. In the middle of the street, staring at us through the shop's window, making a knocking motion with his two right hands...

...was Tangent.

I froze in place. I couldn't believe it.

I was still being hunted.

I was still being hunted.

None of my friends were here to bail me out.

“The robot over there... looking at us from the middle of the street... right?” I shakily asked, just to confirm.

“Yes, that's the one.”

“That's... the serial killer.”

“P-pardon?”

“Historical.”

“Yes?”

“That's the serial killer that's killing everyone.”

“And you're sure abo–”

“We need to escape. Not leave, escape. Now. Right now.”

Historical put his arm around my back, guiding me to the far end of the shop. “Come, then. There's a maintenance passage in here we can take to get away.”

I wasn't confident in the idea of going into some dirty maintenance passage with a stranger, but I was more confident in that than walking outside with Tangent staring at me no more than twenty feet away.

“Let's move. I don't have that much time between tasks, you know!”

Once again, I was forced to put my trust in a stranger. I prayed Historical knew what he was doing.