《Soulless (Apparently)》Chapter 16 – Odd Factory
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Trivo and I were still kinda looking at each other in mutual confusion. Shock didn't feel like telling us what that was all about, leaving us to wonder what business she might have had with that TV-head.
At this point, I was really not in the mood to add more mystery and uncertainty to this adventure. The next chance I had to pull Shock aside, I planned to.
Before us was a huge series of unidentifiable machines made for construction, coupled with conveyor belts and pistons of various sizes, with several more of the hardhat wearing robots working beside the belts.
I took a couple steps forward, my eye catching a familiar machine – a recharge station. It had a little display on the front; I leaned over to read it...
...86.98% purity?! This was the lowest purity I'd ever seen in my life!
“Oh my,” I heard Trivo comment from my right, “th-that's abhorrent.”
“Christ,” Shock chimed in.
“I'm wary about anything under 99.5%! Using this... it would cut your lifespan in half every time you used it!” I cried over the whirring machinery just in front of us.
“Worse than that.” Trivo murmured while counting on her fingers. “Assuming you regularly used a standard station with a purity of 99.95%... something this rotten would bring you to an impure death 260.4 times faster than normal.”
“Do you think they actually use this here?” I wondered aloud.
“Hello!” called out a bombastic voice, ringing clearly over the clattering machinery. “Can I help you?”
Just to our left, clanging towards us was a tall, silver suit of medieval armour adorned with elaborate and flowery markings, all in iridescent black. Beneath the helmet was a pair of bright, yellow eyes staring down at us.
...And a broadsword. A massive, shining sword in his right hand. Oh no. I hoped we weren't trespassing.
“Hi...! You work here, right?” I replied, finding it hard to take my eyes off that blade.
“Naturally! Is there anything I might help you with?” His straight stature, commanding tone, and proud accent led me to believe he was the manager or boss of this place. And, seeing as he hadn't cut us down, I figured we were allowed to be here.
“Yeah. My name's Aural Automaton. This is Shock System and Tiiiaaadel...” I said, just barely remembering that I couldn't use Trivo's actual name in public. (Tiadel? That was the best I could come up with?)
“Well met. 301, at your service.” He extended a tinny hand to me, which I firmly shook. Shock and “Tiadel” followed the same motions shortly after.
“We have some questions about robot hardware, and we're hoping you might be able to give us some answers.”
“Hardware!” 301 swung his mighty blade in the air, prompting me to jump back a little bit. “You've come to the right place!”
Trivo put her fists up to her chest and made a little vroom sound. “Okay! Do you make processors here, first of all?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Okay! And, I'm guessing all the processors you make here are all the same?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Okay. Have you ever heard of someone using an upgraded processor, or a processor that's generally faster than the ones made here?”
“Methinks you'll find nothing like that here. I have heard of what you're talking about – tampered goods – but only in eerie and outlandish black market dealings... the type of thing you'd only hear about in places like that Siphon Yard over yonder.” He paused for a brief second, looking to the side. “Why do you ask?”
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“Consider us something like a private eye,” Shock explained.
Well, I suppose she wasn't lying. Sorta.
“This... case we're dealing with might have something to do with an unusual processor,” she continued.
“...It wouldn't be the Trivo killings, would it?” he asked.
Oh no. I stiffed in an instant, suppressing the urge to whip my head around and look at Trivo. I prayed he didn't know that this was Trivo right beside us.
“Might have something to do with that,” Shock casually replied as if she'd done this a hundred times before.
301 crossed his arms. “We've got no relation to any murders. All we do is produce parts for construction and repair. It's all we've ever done here.”
“No, no, I'm not accusing you of that!” Shock waved her hands in front of herself. “We're just trying to gather information, and you're most likely to be the best source. We don't suspect you of anything.”
“Hmm.” 301 tapped his foot. “I've heard that the best parts bytes can buy are made of cyrite: a turquoise, lightweight metal that one might only find deep beneath the planet's face. Alas, as before, you wouldn't find it here. Mayhaps, around the city's outskirts, you'd have more luck finding a quarry with more knowledge on it?”
More goose chasing? Fantastic. “I don't suppose you'd have, like... a blueprint for making a processor? In case we managed to get our hands on the stuff to make one?”
“I do, but we have strict rules in place here regarding its circulation. Unless you're a dealer who can prove themself as the owner of a business or similar factory, I won't be handing it out.”
None of us fit that criteria. “Damn.”
“Sincerest apologies! I do wish I could be of more assistance.”
And then, in the distance outside the factory,
“Ohoho, fuck yeah!” a very excited robot screeched. “Y'all boutta getta fuckiiin' WHAP!”
I burst out laughing. All of us, including 301, turned to look outside.
Ah, yep, there was the whap. Loud and metallic. I couldn't see it, but I could hear it.
“Is it usually so exciting around here?” I asked, trying to peer around the entrance to see what was going on.
“Not often!” 301 laughed with me. “Although, that's not to say we couldn't use a bit of fun around here from time to time.”
“Bip-bap-bap-baaap!” the outside voice screamed out, followed by another whap. “Shit!”
Shock started chuckling as well. “The hell is that?” she exclaimed, walking towards the entrance. We all followed her.
Out on the road, a slender, blue and slate coloured punk wearing a backwards cap was beating up some other, larger robots with a broken road sign.
The other robots getting beat up... We'd seen them before. Dark grey plating. LED faces with angry eyes and a little frown. Sound familiar? We'd fought them before... twice. Trivo's mass-produced captors. Four of them, this time.
Suddenly, this wasn't so funny anymore.
“Sequencers. Those rapscallions,” 301 growled, raising his sword once again. “Remain here. I must remedy this situation.”
Sequencers – that's what they were called! “Hell no! I've got my own issues with those bots!” I shouted.
“Aural, are you–” Shock started.
“You're damn right I'm sure,” I continued, looking at her straight in the eyes. “We're not going to let 301 or that other guy out there suffer the same fate as... as...”
...What did I introduce Trivo as, again?
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“Nary a worry about me! I'm more than capable of handling myself,” 301 boasted. With that sword and suit of armour, I was inclined to believed him.
Shock pulled out the saw hanging from her belt. “If you're sure about this.”
I swung the guitar bag off my shoulder as I'd done many times before. “What about... Tiadel?” I looked over to Trivo, who seemed worried about our impending confrontation.
“She'll stick with me,” Shock quickly announced, walking over beside her. “I don't plan on using this saw unless I need to. My electricity will do the fighting for me; I can keep an eye on her while helping from a distance.”
“R-right! Okay!” Trivo squeaked.
“Then, let's go!”
“OHOOOAAARRRGH!” 301 bellowed as he charged outside, his sword poised to cut down anything in his way. Feeling empowered by his battle cry, I followed closely behind just to his right, my guitar held in a similar fashion.
That punk on the street had the attention of two of the sequencers, while the other two turned to face us with their weapons drawn – one baton, one morning star, both massive in size. 301 was charging down the morning star sequencer, leaving me with a clear target.
“Mass produced asshole!” I screamed as I ran at the baton-wielding sequencer, already winding up a swing.
The sequencer raised its weapon to block my attack. As soon as I was in range, I swung down at it with a massive cleave, hitting the baton dead on, forcing the sequencer to recoil a bit.
Before I could wind up another swing, I saw the baton coming just in time to jump out of the way of an incoming attack. My chance – I spun my guitar around to the side and hit the sequencer in the abdomen, knocking it off balance!
It stumbled over towards the morning star wielder that 301 was just blocking a hit from. Before I knew it–
CRACK! A massive arc of electricity struck the baton sequencer from my right, knocking it flat on its ass.
Just as I was about to step in to help 301, he took an opportunity to thrust the broadsword straight through the morning star sequencer with a sharp crunch of metal.
“ONWARD!” 301 yelled, turning his attention to the other two sequencers occupied by the punky robot maybe a dozen feet away.
The punk was lying on his back, holding his sign-post in front of him, barely fending off a sequencer trying to crush him with an incredibly oversized axe.
301 and I charged over to the last two, weapons ready, but before we got in range, the unoccupied sequencer threw something at me...!
A bright red throwing knife. It clipped my visor, shattering its left-most spike.
The hit staggered me; I reached up and felt the area to survey the damage, taking a brief moment to recover from the blow. 301 continued onward, deflecting another throwing knife with his sword. Within range, he leaped into the air with his sword held high, and plunged it into the face sequencer that just attacked us with a terrifying shout.
301 was a on a rampage. Maybe we should've let him deal with this on his own!
Shock and Trivo ran up to me from behind.
“Aural! Are you damaged?” Shock shouted.
“Oh no!” Trivo yelped.
“Fuck that! Get that sequencer!” I demanded, pointing at the robot still pinning down the punk on the road. I ran off towards it, guitar firmly in my grip.
Just as I passed 301 as he was pulling his sword out of the robot's body, I mirrored his motions: I jumped as high as I could, held the guitar up in the air above my head...!
“Get fucked!” I slammed the instrument down on the sequencer's head, smashing right through it. “Mass produced piece of shit!”
Unlike 301, I tripped up my landing, falling face-first into the sequencer's body, who had fallen on top of the punky robot.
“Yo, get the fuck off me, son!” he screamed.
“I'm trying!” I yelled back, trying to get to my feet.
A huge, tinny hand took hold of my forearm, helping me to my feet. 301!
As soon as I regained my footing and was out of the way, he bent over and started lifting the sequencer off the punky bot, who slid backwards into an open spot where he could stand up.
The punk dusted himself off. “What the fuck was that, you black and red holiday decoration?!” he scowled at me, swinging his road sign in the air.
“Saving your life! What do you think?!” I angrily yelled back, pointing at him.
“SHUT UP! LOOK!” Shock screeched at us both, drawing our attention instantly.
She was pointing down the road. Not too far past the four sequencers we'd just taken out was another battle with more of the same robots. I could see energy projectiles, a robot with some sort of force field, and... that TV-head from earlier!
“This area is secure! Press on!” 301 announced, already beginning his charge forward.
I hesitated for just a moment this time.
“Aural, your visor!” It was Shock, very concerned. “You're missing almost a quarter of your face!”
“I can still see just fine! We need to take care of this!” I barked.
“You're hurt.”
“This is more important!” I started running off towards the distant brawl, looking back at her and Trivo.
“Then wait a goddamn second! How about this?” Shock shouted, just before building up a massive electric charge on the beams connected to her back, zapping–
It felt like my whole body just rebooted.
This feeling of energy and power... it was familiar. Shock... she overcharged me! Just like back in the desert!
“Let's go!” I screamed, running as fast as I could. To my amazement, I was catching up to 301, despite his size advantage.
I took a quick look at what we were running up to. The TV-head in the navy blue coat was wielding a black scythe with three blades, there were about six sequencers, and... Trivo? It... it was a bot that looked exactly like Trivo, except grey instead of white, and red lights instead of green! And it was under the miniature force field I saw earlier, firing countless energy projectiles at the sequencers! What!?
No, I had to focus. Of all the robots to target, I picked the left-most one, on the outskirts of the fight. Just as I was running up to it, a flurry of green projectiles flew at it, burning holes in its body in an instant! It fell over not a second later, defunct.
“Switching target! Sequencer #14! Begin assault!” The Trivo-looking bot called out in an uncannily familiar voice. Before I even had a chance to go after another sequencer, Trivo 2.0 unleashed another barrage of gunfire, ripping through the robot just like the last.
“Switching target! Sequencer #15! Begin assault!”
301 and I both struggled to look for a target. On the far side of the brawl, the TV-head was cutting down sequencers one by one with ease, and Trivo 2.0 was taking care of the rest.
Just then, a loud stomp behind me, to my left. I spun around instantly, holding my guitar up defensively.
A sequencer I hadn't spotted! Wielding a lengthy quarterstaff, it swung at my legs from the side, sweeping me off my feet with one strike.
“CAPTURE THE VESKY.”
I rolled to the left, just in time to avoid the robot stomping the ground right where I was. Channelling all that energy Shock had charged me with, I hopped to my feet in one swift motion, swinging my guitar around in a circle, striking the sequencer in the thighs.
“Hell yeah! Don't fuck with us!” I screamed, already lining up another swing.
“CAPTURE THE VE–”
I cut it off with another swift blow to the face, sending it to the ground. Hell yes.
“Shock! You should always do this to me!!” I laughed as hard as I could.
“Switching target! Sequencer #17! Begin assault!” Trivo 2.0 was still going. 301 had rushed over to where she and the TV-head were just finishing off the last two sequencers.
I was still pumped and ready to attack. I started to bolt over, but the bad guys had already been cut and blasted down before I could get anywhere near them.
...Was that it? Was that all of them? I whipped my head around, unable to find any more sequencers.
“OHOOOAAARRRGH!” 301 triumphantly bellowed. “VICTORY, MY COMRADES!”
That was it! “YES!” I jumped and pumped a fist in the air.
...Ahem. After that, I tried to calm down, standing still, focusing on slowing down my hardware.
I shook my head for a moment. Shock, Trivo, and the punk caught up to me, surveying the situation with me. In front of us, among several junked sequencers, was 301, the mysterious TV-head, Trivo 2.0, and the punky bot.
“Is it... over...?” Trivo asked.
“Fuckin' A, idiots!” the punk screamed.
I didn't say anything. Reason: Trivo 2.0 was staring at me with its energy weapons all aiming at me. (Why me?! The punk was the one still screaming at us!)
“Whoa, whoa, wait! I'm not a bad guy! I helped you fight those guys!”
Trivo 2.0 stared at me.
“Don't... shoot?”
Trivo 2.0 stared at me.
I slowly, ever so slowly, put my guitar down on the ground.
Trivo 2.0 stared at me.
Trivo 1.0 walked up in front of me. “S-she's not dangerous! She doesn't mean any harm!”
After the longest 10 seconds of my life, Trivo 2.0's red lights flicked from red to green.
“Hello, Vesky?” she asked Trivo in a a voice perfectly matching her own. “I'm so glad I found you. Are they friends?”
...Vesky?
“Y-yes!” Trivo moved aside to introduce Shock and myself. “They are very good friends.”
“Are you malfunctioning?”
“Not th-that I know of? Why do you ask?”
“Let us move somewhere safer. Perhaps, the nearby factory?”
“My factory is far safer than out here,” 301 chimed in. “Let us be on our way.”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “Where's that TV-head with the scythe?” He'd completely vanished.
“Good question...” Shock's voice rang just behind me. “Where did he go?! Fuck! He was just here!”
I sighed. “We'll find him later.” I looked over at Shock.
“Aural! Christ, your face...”
“Is it... is it that bad?” I whimpered.
“Yes. Let's get back to the factory.”
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