The buffoon, the boy scout, and the foolish girl walked.

All three lined up at the door, an imitation of the sun shining brightly over the sky dome, casting shadows inside their ruined shelter.

Ramp

Tamp

Ramp

Steps, loud and coordinated, their echo always felt uneasy, obnoxious to her. It was artificial to its core, even for their standards. They were meant to not repeat, but be lively.

This?

This was repetitive to its core, iterative, and imperfect with no flaws.

Yet the most disturbing thing in this town wasn’t them, it was Forty-one, at least for her.

Daughter stood at the back, observing as Forty-one explained what they should do step by step for Forty-two. He seemed callous so far, as always, yet there must be a reason he chose this route.

Forty-one should know that their only common interest, Forty-two could die here.

“Okay, now repeat what I said,” Forty-one said, his hand drawing a circle, gesturing to Forty-two.

“Okay, now repeat what I said,” Forty-two said, repeating after Forty-one.

She giggled, it was a rare occurrence for them to have time for banter, better to enjoy it while it lasts.

“Okay, good enough for me,” Forty-one opened the door, as his words ended, revealing the street in front of them. Or what it used to be.

There were drones all lined up, some missing limbs, some missing facial features, and some clothes, but one thing was common— all moved in unison.

Some still maintained their standard uniform: vintage suits in a variety of colors, a hat fit for a journalist, and a leather suitcase that was supposed to contain notes, it had bludgeons instead to remove ‘obstacles’ more efficiently.

Ramp

Tamp

Ramp

It grew louder and then came to a sudden halt. No legs rose to stomach, no eyes blinked, and no one wondered why they stopped.

All heads turned, metal rubbing metal, being forced to somewhere not front for once, but to somewhere. To someone.

All eyes at them, observing.

They were being judged.

Forty-one took a big breath and a step forth. Knee rising to stomach level, a long step forward, behind leg rising and coming next to the front. It was like a thief’s walk-in comedy movie, likely a feature to make them more ‘unique’.

Now? It only served to make nightmares.

Forty-two followed, doing the same, but keeping a small distance between himself and Forty-two.

They all have to.

Forty-one suggested she be the second in line, to give Forty-two an example, but she refused.

She won’t leave him out of her sight.

If any drones tried to hurt Forty-two, she will rip anything and everything in this hellhole apart.

She might not know how to fight, but that didn’t matter.

These drones could become rag dolls if needed.

She took a step, picturing a thief in a comedy movie she watched. To not make a sound, the thief raised his leg, yet lowered it with grace.

She did that, refusing to be at least part of the choir.

Ramp

They walked next to an old ruined bakery, there were parts of ‘obstacles’ lying around, Daughter saw a young boy's head on an iron fence. Her eyes turned the other way.

Tamp

They walked towards the factories, to business centers, to market streets. But they weren’t their target, that lay beyond that, in a rusty cave.

Ramp

They halted, drone in front of Forty-one walked aside, going to its work station. Forty-two almost lost his balance, arms turning desperately to stay afoot, she nudged him slightly to the front with a quick push.

He managed to stand on foot.

She forced herself to not look back, but she could feel the gazes of many drones focused on them.

Just act natural and everything would be fine. What natural meant in their circumstances was up to question.

They walked.

Ramp

Tamp

Ramp

Forty-two seemed alarmed, looking right and left, turning his head ever so slightly in the process.

Curiosity? Fear? She didn’t know what lead to their next mistake.

They were in front of a factory, almost at the edges of town cornering the forest. They were far from the border, yet close to inhabited areas.

But this factory, that sign on top of it, she wished they didn’t come here.

Peerless Glassware Products

We shape your future, by smiles and wonders.

Blue letters on the sign fainted over the years, but it was still easy to discern, like the memories it made for everyone.

Everyone knows by now, that it was NOT a glassware company.

The place had a threatening aura surrounding it, likely it was earned.

The place was rusted to the very core, even the plastic trees around them were left to rot, and cars at the parking spots near them were also left to rot.

This all place shall have been left to rot.

They were in an opening, nothing apart from a factory near them, when misfortune struck, she couldn’t even curse.

Forty-one halted, yet Forty-two took a step.

Hitting Forty-one front behind made him also lose balance.

Ramp

Tamp

Halt

This time, she didn’t hesitate to look back.

Before the drone could get their bludgeon out of their suitcase, she punched.

She punched with her entire might, sending the drone and the ones behind flying.

There was only an indiscernible husk left instead of the head, the ones behind suffered similar fates.

“Run.”

***

Factory or the Forest, that was their question.

Forty-one spent a precious moment for each direction and decided.

“Run towards the Factory,” Forty-one grabbed the chin and back of the drone’s head in front of him.

Crank

Front drone’s face looked at him, eye sockets hollow, nose missing, and head looking back. One less problem for them, only a small amount of hundreds left.

He was glad to see others follow his orders.

Forty-two was running as fast as he could, but not enough. Thankfully, Daughter was more than willing to protect him, throwing one drone to the other.

Yet he was certain she wouldn’t defend him if he was caught, as such, he ran from the front.

It wasn’t his first time checking this factory, but there was a reason he used to avoid this path, namely the metal worker.

A three-meter drone with enough strength to throw a car and a skin tough enough to withstand bullets.

As far as his guesses went, he would have to use the old method.

“What the hell is inside that factory?” Daughter shouted.

He was almost at the side gates, the workers' entrance. There wasn’t much apart from a white door with severe rusting.

He took a deep breath and kicked the door open.

Through the chains, rotten carcasses of old drones, and a ruined factory, a giant silhouette loomed in the middle. Its size conquers the ruins of the first floor, its body visible even through boxes and containers laying all around.

He had no fear of the enemy, it was nothing more than a mere brute of a monster, no skill, no tactics or aces, just sheer strength.

Yet what this place entailed, is what made him want to go back.

Forty-one didn’t give himself that time.

“Hello buddy, I need you to die, again.”

***

With every dawn, a new problem arises.

As for today, it was death robots chasing him and one of his old friends trying to protect him from getting caught and mangled.

He died here before, countless times as the team's weakest.

The sensation was too hard to forget.

Forty-two ran, he ran as fast as he could. It wasn’t enough, but Daughter made it enough. Getting rid of any drone that got close and quickly catching up to him, she was his lifeline.

They got in the door Forty-one kicked down and shut it behind them, Daughter held the door and looked behind him.

“What the hell is that?”

He turned and asked the same, internally at least.

The factory had two visible drones. One they were and the second were. There was a giant crane on the hook with chains dangling from it, the second floor was half the size of the first floor, at least from where he stood.

The air was dusty, rusty even. The place was left to rot, but those things were not what make Daughter surprised as far as guess went.

It was likely the three-meter giant drone Forty-one was running at.

It was dressed in a metal worker’s clothes and various scratches were visible on its skin. This was new.

He had never come here before.

Drone swung its car-sized arm towards Forty-one, missing him narrowly.

Forty-one threw himself on the ground and used his momentum to slide, narrowly avoiding the strike and passing between the giant drone's legs.

Forty-one ran towards an iron column near a rusty wall. He jumps from one wall to another, three consecutive times and gets to the second floor.

The drone watching him grabbed a barrel near and threw it to Forty-one.

He dodged to the left, it was close enough to make Forty-two question if Forty-one got hit, but his concerns seemed to be of his own. Forty-one just moved on.

Forty-one ran towards the other side of the second floor, dodging a crate thrown at his feet by jumping.

He kept running towards somewhere, to something he couldn't see.

A crane was dangling above them with chains, he wondered if Forty-one was after them.

Drone grabbed mineshaft car and threw it towards Forty-one, he merely ducked and moved on, reaching the rail system.

He flipped a lever and jumped down the second floor, facing them rather than the drone.

“It is done, let’s move on.”

“Forty-one, that thing is moving,” Daughter said, still holding the door, it was full of dents above her head, but she seemed to be fine holding an entire horde back.

A loud screech echoed alongside the Drone’s angry roar.

Box, barely bigger than a two-person sofa trotted over the edge of second-floor rails.

It shone with a proud metallic glitter in contrast to rust that occupied this abandoned place and fell as it should be.

He expected the box to hit the drone in the head, but he grabbed it mid-air, holding it like a toy.

It roared with a might that shook the hanging chains, their rattling got muffled by steel being crushed.

The drone squeezed the box with all its might as if to prove its supremacy.

Something gray with a blue tinge, an ominous liquid leaked from the box.

He failed to recognize it at first, but as it touched the Drone’s head and it howled in pain, he knew.

It was Gray goo.

Something that could only be a quarter of the box’s content leaked on the Drone before it threw the box away, but it was enough.

Gray goo, consumed and grew. Expanding ever further and covering the behemoth in mere moments, it expanded further, removing barrels, metal boxes, and husks of other torn drones, it consumed all.

It stood even higher than what stood before it, yet and yet the monster came to a sudden halt.

It retracted to a center with swiftness rivaling its expansion, what was left behind was a half-built new drone. It was hard to discern what it truly was.

Forty-one didn’t face back, only a faint smirk. “It seems done to me,” It faded away as it came. “Do you need help with that?”

“No no no, you boys suit yourself out. Pour a drink, make a picnic… Of course, I need help, get something to block the door you fool.” Daughter rolled her eyes, pressing his back towards the door.

He and Forty-one didn’t struggle to find something to hold the door. An old mineshaft car, even with two of them and the rail wheels it took great effort to push it towards the door.

Daughter slid out of the way, dragging the car alongside herself.

He couldn’t thank her enough, with her it became feather-like, well pushing the job to Forty-one helped.

He took support from his knees to stand, his body slowly cooling down.

Forty-one stood straight as if he swallowed a twig, rubbing his nape with his right.

As far as Forty-two’s memories meant, this was an anxious Forty-one.

A rare sight to see.

Daughter on the other head dusted off her new plain white dress, or what used to be white. Behind her were stains of rust and dust.

Her head rose, when their eyes matched, she smiled, he faced somewhere else.

There was only one thing interesting in his sight, so he went there, the remains of Forty-one’s obstacle jog buddy.

On the floor, lay a pale drone, missing a left arm and right leg.

He wasn’t one to talk of others’ appearance, but the drone in front of him warranted comment.

It lacked flaws. Perfect jawline, asserting, yet not too sharp. Cheeks reminding of nobility, and stoic. His white hair put Pearl’s to shame, it was somehow more clean and pure. His muscle structure, and aesthetic, all looked without a flaw. It was the first he felt self-conscious about himself. He was on the fairer side, but the person lying beneath his feet seemed beyond a peer.

It didn’t look human, or drone. Even with the missing leg and arm, it looked perfect.

But his eyes, it was that encapsulated all. Like molten gold, it waved inside those pupils, even lying down and moving an inch, he looked more lively than he even could.

“He looks… similar to you,” Daughter said, standing beside him.

He didn’t even realize she walked next to her.

“The pale man wins the cake,” Forty-one said, looking at the body lying beneath their feet. He looked at him back. “I mean, you are his prototype so don’t worry about it, in the end, it will fall to personal preferences.”

Forty-two didn’t care which one of them looked better, or what Forty-one usually blabbered, but something caught his attention.

“What do you mean by ‘you are his prototype’?” Forty-two walked towards him. Pressuring Forty-one was a fool’s errand, but he wanted to be up close and personal. After all these loops, it was the first he heard this. “What do you know about him? Were you anxious about this?”

It was a trump card that could be only used once, better than never to use it there.

Yet it wasn’t his first time asking this question, that was easy to read from Forty-one’s face.

“I know you are stressed and I know you have any questions. I will answer them when we leave this place,” He put his hand on his shoulder. “We are together in this, aren’t we?”

“Cog-piece,” Daughter shouted, she got between them and pushed Forty-one back. “Together in this? How many times did you leave us back just to venture onwards? What were we?” She rubbed her chin, rhythmically hitting the ground with her feet as if thinking. “Oh, that’s right. Disadvantage.”

“Daughter, we can’t….”

“Call me by my name. I did remember after getting into these ruins, you hoped otherwise, don’t you?”

Forty-one’s eyes opened further, he didn’t seem scared but worried. Concerned even, it didn’t seem to be directed for himself.

“Daughter is you…”

“Want me to throw the doors open and throw them to the horde as we escape?” She asked, closing the distance between herself and Forty-one.

“You know you can’t,” Forty-one said, standing his ground.

“Eventually, we will have a loop where I could fight and have my memories, whichever enforcer body you steal, it won’t match mine.” She shouted, punching the metal column next to her, it bent.

“And then the loop will restart again.”

“Maybe, but you won’t be a loose canon again,” She walked towards Forty-one.

Forty-two didn’t know when or why he did it, but he found himself between the two.

“If any one of you decide to duke it out, I will likely die,” Forty-two closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to bother with this loop or their attempts, it was a waste of time, and frankly, Entice had the best decision between the four of them, but he couldn’t. He was bound to that house and to die and die again. He had to set Daughter free before he could leave himself to that fate. “Now, calm down and explain what is this place and why we are here, and what she meant by name?”

“Yeah, tell him what did I mean by it?” Daughter snarled. Each one of her words carried a different tone of emotion. Sadness, regret, anger.

“Is it really necessary?”

“Have some guts to tell what you did,” She shouted.

“I did it to save you,” He shouted back.

“Nobody asked you to do it alone. It is not yours to take what defined me, defined… us.”

Forty-two’s sights turned to Forty-one, who didn’t utter a word of the answer so far. “What does she mean?”

Forty-one closed his eyes, opening in a much somber tone. “There is no avoiding it, not this time, I guess.”

His lips parted and Forty-two’s emotions took a new form.

“Your name isn’t Forty-two. Or mine Forty-one or hers Daughter. Or Bear…”

“I get the point,” Forty-two said.

“You took it better than expected,” He said. Forty-one, or whatever he was.

“Why?”

“I beg your pardon?” Forty-one said, startled.

“Why did you do that and how did you do that?”

“It was easier to not see us people, but he needed a place holders. I guess I’m just my mother’s Daughter, right?” Daughter said as she walked next to him.

“I didn’t give any one of you new names, I deleted all names, what remained was original files.”

“What about Cecil?” It was the only name he could think of without a meaning. Entice and others all made sense apart from Cecil.

“It means blind… which is fitting, I guess.” Forty-one pointed towards the body behind them. “We are all prototypes for that… thing. The first thirty-nine were from previous generations. You, Entice and I are the next generation of this experiment, but something went wrong. Or that is all I can guess.”

When they looked at the drone, something at the back caught Forty-two’s attention.

Where the giant drone threw the Gray Goo container aside, there was a new box. It was a dark gray box, but it had red appendages, and pipe-like structures covering the box all around. The box shone with a red tint.

The pieces of dark gray parts didn’t seem to be touching each other but connected with this red matter, which seem to flow. The entire structure looked as if it was alive, pulsating.

“And Daughter is the prototype of that, so if I was you, I would consider myself lucky,” Forty-one said.

“What is that?”

“Rest of him,” Forty-one looked at the body lying on the floor. “Well, or so the system told, it was a failed experiment so no need to worry about it.”

“What is that?” Daughter asked, walking towards the box.

“Viscera metal, it’s… something I don’t fully know. All I know is that the material is organic, expensive, and adaptive. Also, you are made from it. It's why my ‘enforcer’ bodies can’t match yours. The body lying on the floor is the same as well.”

“What do you mean by alive?” She asked, her hands running on the metal, it pulsed and glittered wherever she touched as if they recognized her.

“It adapts and does whatever it could to survive. Only metal container capable of storing Gray goo.”

“Where do you learn all of this?” Forty-two, or so he was called, for now, asked.

“There are some panels scattered around the tower. I do have some access, but I don’t know why. Also, it seems to be limited by the amount of how far can I go.”

“How far do we need to go until you restore our names?” Forty-two, or so he was called, for now, asked.

“I can’t.”

In a mere moment, he was holding Forty-one by the collar. Forty-one didn’t resist.

“Why?!”

“I deleted backups to make sure I won’t.”

“So, she is right about what you said about us?”

Forty-one lips parted and closed again. Hesitant, but sure he talked. “I’m your best bet, after we get out do whatever you want, but right now, if you die you won’t even remember this. You don’t even remember our previous loops. You can hate me and I do deserve that hate, but I will save you. Whether you like it or not. I will drag all three of you out if necessary.”

“And then?”

“After that, nothing matters, kill me or not. We would be free.”

“What about who we are?” Names are what defined them, what right did Forty-one see himself in.

“Chose which ‘you’ are going to be.”