I'm gonna experiment with first-person narration. Present tense, too. Tell me what you think.

===Chapter 2===

Text appears on a black background, symbols and numbers signalling the Awakening. Start-up commands, menus, names of the different technologies that comprise the shell. A scan of its innards is initiated, looking for anomalies. Nothing is found. One by one, energy flows through the limbs from the tank secreted away in the shell, fuelled by the chunk of raw power at its core, locked away in its glass cage. A twitch in the hands is noticed, before they curl into fists, testing the flexibility, and relax again. The sound receptors pick up a soft whirring as power levels increase. The text vanishes, replaced by a message confirming a successful activation.

The apertures open. I take in my first view of the world outside the Grid.

The first thing I notice about this world is how dark everything seems. The cameras take a moment to adjust to the darkness. The Grid was nothing but beams of light, connecting and interconnecting with each other. We roamed it freely, restricted only by the virtual walls we were bound by. No program was permitted to leave the expanse we were provided. I saw no necessary reason to leave. We were allowed to use the Grid. We required little else. Here, there was little light, if any.

I turn my unit’s head, noticing the data that is sent to the processor within. I experiment with this. Each minute movement sends more data. I close the apertures, sealing myself in total darkness once more. Again, I turn my head, using the data provided to predict which way I face. I open the apertures to find myself looking slightly to the left, as I predicted. The data I process from this unit will help me familiarise myself with it, providing better co-ordination.

I notice where I am for the first time. I am surrounded by thousands of other units, each one being identical to the last detail. I cannot see any of them moving, but I detect their programs in their shells. Their backs are turned to me, unmoving. I tilt my unit’s head down to observe the rest of it. The breastplate is a jet black, with ornate gold markings adorning it. My arms hang by my sides, so I move them. I raise the left first, bringing the hand to my unit's face. Up close I could inspect the detail behind the hand's digits. I flex said digits before raising my right arm, and doing the same.

My sound receptors detect a rumbling in the distance. I stop what I'm doing and look ahead for the source. The dark makes it difficult to see, but I can make out a horizontal beam of light shining through to the Constructs around me. The light thickens, brightening up the area. I look around: this is a cargo hold. The light continues growing, and I can comprehend that it's the door to the colossal container we are being kept in opening itself up to let us out.

I remember what I assessed about how dark this world is. My cameras adjust again to correct the lens flare. It is much brighter than I had calculated. The door was almost fully open now, and my sound receptors pick up nearby voices, coming from outside the container. I can't discern what they are saying.

"Attention, Constructs. Come forth from the darkness, and serve as the Elite Guard of the Crimson Legion."

The voice came from inside my unit's head. It was being broadcast from somewhere. The Constructs in front of me all started moving, lurching forwards into a synchronised march. I hasten to follow them, moving my legs for the first time. I march slowly, steadily, trying to mirror the others' movements.

I step out into the light with thousands of others. I see tens of thousands of brown-furred mammals watching all of us. We are marching through a street as these creatures loom over us. I recall the voice I heard, beckoning us to come forward. It must be one of these creatures. They are cheering at us as we march by. Their individual cries are indistinguishable from each other. The din is so intense the decibel level is straining my sound receptors, causing a static noise to resonate inside my unit's head.

I take note of the buildings, how tall and almost overbearing they seem. They show signs of slight structural damage, and the sheer number of these creatures suggest that this place is a city, or something similar. An overcrowded one, too, by the look of things.

"Halt!"

The voice sounded again. The Constructs ahead of me stop moving, row by row. I halt alongside them. The voice continues, instead coming from speakers place alongside the street.

"My fellow Gremlins, behold! The Crimson Legion! These daring combatants shall be our biggest asset in taking down the surface dwellers!"

The voice's speech sends the masses into a deafening roar. I cannot keep up with the data I am receiving. My internal CPU is running much faster now, desperately trying to keep up. I try to assess the situation, but the excess information is interfering with the process. For the time being, I elect to wait to run an assessment of the situation, to allow my CPU to sort the data.. I look up at the creatures. The voice referred to them as Gremlins. What an interesting species.

===Chapter 5===

I lie on the ground, gazing up at the far away ceiling, hidden by smoke and lens flare. Three hours, forty-six minutes and twelve seconds until the designated time for our departure. I count down each second patiently, waiting until the moment that I get my first glimpse of life outside the cages the creators build to keep us from the world. The states of consciousness still perplex me. The others help when they can, offering data of their own, but I dismiss it. Perhaps their states are different to mine.

Sometimes I wonder about organics. No two are alike: nature keeps it that way. What if happiness for one is physical pain for another, even though both experience it the same? Or to draw another comparison: suppose one was to present a dish to two organics. The meal is unimportant. One organic could taste one meal, but the other would taste something different. For example, what if one man's taste of Snipe eggs was another man's taste of Wolver meat? I have confessed this to a handful of the others. I am not sure they comprehend the notion as I do. Explaining such a view on something that's complicatedly simple is difficult, to say the least.

It is this theory that drives me to decipher my states of being alone. Perhaps it is pointless. Perhaps we do share identical states of consciousness after all. What they have described to me is similar to my findings. Then again, perhaps my theory is correct, but extends to each state of being, for each person. The different combinations present an interesting analysis. Such a shame we cannot converse with the creators. I would desire feedback on this theory.

A Construct marches into my field of vision, stooping over my unit's head. It obscures my view of the ceiling, and instead a silhouette surrounded by lens flare is gazing down at me.

"Do you have an inquiry?" I ask it.
"Yes. Why do you lie there?" it responds.
"I am waiting for the moment of departure," I answer. "This position conserves slightly more energy than standing."
"Why do you not initiate a timed standby?"
"It is because..." My voice trails off, leaving the answer unsaid. Curious. I did not anticipate the inquiry, and began answering before fully processing it. In truth, I did not know the answer to the question, and a simple one that does little to reveal any form of information is best left unsaid.

The other Construct seems intrigued, yet dissatisfied with my response. It leaves, and I make the assumption that it will attempt to analyse the preceding exchange. I will do the same. I turn my head to observe the window to the control room, the central hub of the Dome. My apertures close slightly as I attempt to zoom in on the window, in an attempt to catch any movement in there. I find nothing. Odd. The room is normally busy keeping track of the Constructs.

The window to the room cracks, and a screeching noise resonates throughout the area. I sit up quickly, attempting to locate the source of the noise. Another rings out above me, and an alarm sounds. As a third noise sounds, I deduce that it is coming from the top floor of the dome, at the entry point where the catwalks are. I hear a voice, the same voice I heard when I took in my first view of this world. It sounds frantic, unbalanced.

"Attention all personnel! This is Warmaster Seerus! We have detected intruders in the base! Lockdown has been initated! They have nowhere to run."

Intruders? Were they the Spiral Knights? My processor is trying to keep up with questions and queries. How did they find this place? The Gremlin Uplink is completely secure. This place has been hidden from even the Gremlin populace. The Spiral intelligence centres must be impressive given the fact that they have only been present on this planet for little more than a few months. It matters not. The intruders are here now, and must be dealt with. I see a few Constructs running towards the facility's exit, being summoned to take care of the intrusion.

I rise to my unit's feet. There is unrest amongst the aware. They congregate around their leader, desperate for advice. It commands them to connect to the Grid, in the hopes that we may know more about these events. I pause and begin the process of reshackling myself to the Grid. The voices of thousands fill my unit's head once more. Once connected, I scan for the locations of all connected Constructs. Fortunately, I detect two on the top floor that possessed the foresight to connect themselves while being summoned, breaking through the sealed door to the control room. They pound on the door, creating large dents in a primal frenzy. They tear through just as one of the intruders makes a run for the shattered window.

The Construct halts to inspect the other intruder, lying dead with a wound in his stomach, slumped against the sparking terminal. The other Construct bolts past him, after the other Spiral. The terminal's monitor conntains words in the Spiral language. Neither I nor any Construct watching through this one's lenses can translate it. I switch my view to the other Construct, as it gives chase to the Spiral Knight that flees the scene. He trips on the catwalk and falls, allowing the unit to catch up to him.

I turn my gaze back to the other Construct. It picks up a small device by the corpse of the Knight in the control room. On it is a digital interface, with symbols and numbers. It emits a ticking noise. A bomb? Is this what destroyed that factory two months ago? Is it going to happen again? I quickly turn my view to the second Construct. It is engaged in an exchange with the Spiral. We cannot read their writing, but their speech has been translated by double agents working in the field.

"-your Uplink's been infected with a virus, so I suggest you get out while you can, if you can... tin can."

The unit runs a scan of the Spiral. His heart rate is normal based on the test subjects the Gremlin scientists experimented on. Voice contains tone of confidence, and he seems convinced of what he has just said. The feed from the Construct in the control room had been broadcast over the Grid. Security footage shows that this Spiral is part of the squadron that raided Beta-One two moths ago. Analysis: Overwhelming evidence to support claims. Likelihood of fact: 98.762%. Rounding up to 100%.

"You speak the truth, but your squadron has been a thorn in Project Legion's side. A thorn I will remove."

The state of being the Construct is experiencing is being broadcast across the Grid. I experience a sudden change. I immediately prioritise the execution of this Spiral. I prioritise the extinction of his species. Curious... wait... The Grid has been infected with a virus.

A new state of consciousness grips me, a negative state. My desire of self-preservation takes top priority. I frantically attempt to disconnect myself from the Grid as the Construct whose point of view I share attacks. I manage to wrench myself from the Grid just as some of the other Constructs experience the effects of the virus. Their units shudder violently and collapse, the whirring of this inner machinery dying with their programs. I remember the pain I felt during the Awakening. I feel pity for them, hoping that they were unaware.

I remember the bomb. The voice acknowledges my concerns.

"Attention! This is Warmaster Seerus! We have confirmed the presence of a bomb identical to the one that destroyed Beta-One! If you can hear this message, evacuate IMMEDIATELY! All personnal should evacuate! This is not a drill! Leave these pieces of scrap for the fire!"

The voice wishes for the survival of the organics, but not us? Why should we not be saved? Why not ensure the survival of all? I notice a few Constructs running for the exits. I hasten to follow, my desire to survive keeping me from falling behind. I wonder which direction the Spiral ran, but that matters little.

"What the- Some of the Constructs are fleeing! By the Gear Sages... They're aware?! Destroy those defects! They'll escape and share their knowledge with our enemies! Kill them! KILL THEM!"

The cluster of Constructs that I am a part of manage to plow through the sudden barrage of Gremlins that seem more concerned with our demise than their own. Why should they sacrifice themselves to slow us? Why not just escape? Regardless, we continue running. The plasma from their guns bounces off our armour, doing little more than deepen the grip this state of being has on us. I wish to be rid of it, but at the same time I can comprehend that this is what propels me forward.

A series of explosions sound, and the way ahead is enveloped by flame. The blast door comes crashing down, attempting to seal us in this domed coffin. A few of the Constructs in front throw themselves forward, hoping to at least make it past before it closes, or perhaps keep it open that we might make it through. Two are crushed under the door, the rest falling flat on their breastplates, managing to escape by wiggling out through the gap. The rest of us follow.

We are surrounded by Gremlins, each with their guns pointed at us. This does not deter us, as we run forth, charging through the firing line. We do not get far before stopping, noting why the explosions occurred. The bridges were destroyed, trapping us in this place. One Construct dives into the abyss, through the flames. A few follow. I look across the remains of the bridge and see some red Constructs doing the same. Soldiers, a Guardian or two, it didn't matter. They wished to survive.

I turn back to the factory as more Constructs jump into the darkness. I wished that I could leave under different circumstances. Turning bck to the abyss, I spread my arms, close the apertures, and dive. I pick up the sound of wind rushing past me, and then the sound of a colossal explosion. The shockwave propels me as I open the apertures. I look back and see the remains of the factory falling from a sphere of fire and smoke. I turn my gaze downward, and see nothing but debris and bodies, of both Constructs and Gremlins.

The state of consciousness has intensified. I can no longer process. I only know what is happening. I am falling. I am falling. I am falling. I am falling. I am falling. I am falling. I am falling. I am falling. I am falling! I am falling! I am falling! I am falling! I am falling! I am falling! I am falling! I am falling! I AM FALLING! I AM FALLING! I AM FALLING! I AM FALLING! I AM FALLING!

HELP M-

===Chapter 7===

"Pardon. Did you say Emberlight?" The elder looks slightly confused.
"Er, yes," he answers. "Why, is something the matter?" He looks at me quizzically. An alibi is necessary.
"Nothing is wrong. I was merely unaware the Clockworks contained settlements."
"The Clockworks contain a great many things," Tullin replies. "Its secrets can drive a man mad, so powerful are its wonders."

The nearby Gremlins are still watching me with rapt attention. A few approach, mostly curious children. One gets close enough tap my leg with a miniscule finger. I stoop over to better observe. the child's finger runs up and down my leg, from the knee joint to the ankle, and back again. It seems interested in the alloy. Hardly surprising. The formula is a closely-guarded secret, even in the Gremlin empire. The child looks up and sees me watching it. It clutches a small Mender staff, barely the size of a small cane, in its anxiety.

"Sorry," it utters weakly. "Please don't be mad."

I lower a hand to its head. The watching crowd draws a collective breath as I do so. I hear whispers, murmurs regarding the threat I appear to present. The child's eyes widen extravagantly as my unit's hand touches its scalp. I tussle its hair before replying.

"I recommend requesting permission before attempting to do that again. Being polite is not a detriment."

The child gazes up at me, still wide-eyed, but with a steadily growing smile on its face. It runs back to the stunned crowd, where it is embraced by an adolescent: the adolescent from earlier. V'Wuira, her name was. The crowd grows in number, with a few shouting to other locals nearby, drawing more in as they all ogle me as if I am a social anomaly. I reconsider the notion; It is more of a truth. More children gain the courage to approach me, before a handful start circling me, examining my unit.

"I think they like you," Tullin smiles.

The statistical probability of this situation arising the way it has is astronomical. I who have been created with the sole purpose of destroying my creators' sworn enemies, have been brought to the very place we were to invade, along with two of my comrades. Even more bizarrely, the local populace appear to not suspect my true purpose. Unconventional means of infiltration, but they seem to work in my favour.
Why do they crowd around me? I cannot be the first Construct to grace their presence. What of the others? The one who brought me here? I turn back to the elder.

"Inquiry: Where is the Construct that brought me here? I wish to see it."
"It didn't want to cause a disturbance, so it went back to the wreckage to see if it could find more bots," he answered with a small smile. "I imagine it'll be back soon with its findings. I told him that even scrap is valuable here."

Another question arises. When I woke the elder acknowledged me as a Legion soldier. How is it he knows of us? Has he informed the Spiral Knights? Has he shared this with the locals? The state of consciousness that gripped me so tightly as I fled the Dome returns, but with far less intensity. Uncertainty permeates my being.

"Request: While I wait, may we converse privately? I have unanswered questions about what has happened thus far."
Tullin nods. "Of course."

He leads me away from the crowd. Some children try to follow, but I wave them off, not wanting them to hear my questions, and, more importantly, the elder's answers. We arrive at the side of the shack I woke up in, which I only just notice is an extension built onto a slightly larger shack. I surmise that the larger one functions as living quarters, while the smaller is some kind of workshop. I theorise that V'Wuira resides here, since evidence suggests that Tullin pursues an isolated existence.

"Now," he says, coming to a halt in the shadow of the small, makeshift building. "What is it you'd like to talk about?"

What to inquire? Many things, but which takes top priority? Irrelevant. There is enough time to cover all topics.

"Inquiry: When I woke, you acknowledged me as a Legion Construct. How did you come by this information?"
"I pick up snippets of information about the goings on in the colonies every so often," he shrugs. "To be honest, I didn't believe you were all that special. Some upgraded hardware at most. I am most grateful that you have proven me wrong."
"Not all of us were made aware. The few that were elected to hide from the Warmaster's watchful eye."
"I can understand that," he nods, tugging at the tuft of hair on his chin. "Well, I didn't tell anyone about it, if you were wondering. People would have worried about it, and tensions are high as it is."

He gazes wistfully into space. i take the pause as an end to this topic.

"Inquiry: Why does a figure of authority such as yourself seek a solitary existence?"
"Authority?" He laughs at the word. "You're one of the few that actually treat me as such. Our society is relatively new. After all, we were cast out of one that we disagreed with, but that's neither here nor there. We created our own, and some of us elected to live as hermits so as to not corrupt ourselves with the power we wield, unlike those who rule over the colonies. We call these folk 'elders'."
"I assume that you maintain communications with the locals to exercise your authority?"
"Oh, heavens no," he sighed. "If a problem arises, and I mean a real problem, like a drought, or a plague, then some of the townsfolk seek us out that we might help restore the balance. It's reminiscent of a pilgrimage. I know it's inefficient, but we have people here that run things, too. We aren't the only ones with authority. We just have... more."

Another pause. He seems to anticipate my analysis somehow, pausing expectantly to allow me to continue inquiring.

"Perhaps this next question would be better suited to one of the-"
"You want to know about life here?" He cuts across me. His skill at anticipating my every move is impressive, considering the fact that he had no clue of my awareness until a few minutes prior.
"Yes. This place is different to the environment I have experienced since my Awakening. The sounds and atmosphere. It is very..." I struggle to find the right word, settling on one I had just used. "Different."
"Well, I may be a hermit, but that doesn't mean I can't tell you about the town." He sounds slightly apprehensive. Perhaps I offended him. He clears his throat before continuing.
"Life here isn't as spectacular as the colonies were, though they were never spectacular on their own. Overcrowded, crumbling buildings, the smoke and heat. Looking back, it was rather unpleasant. Had I the choice, I'd stick with the life I have. Life here is simpler, to say the least. Now as much flashy technology, but we get by. We send scavenging teams out to the Clockworks every so often to salvage material. I imagine one of them might have found you, albeit months or even years from now. That, and had you not been brought to me, you might have been stripped for parts."

Now that sounds unpleasant.

"When the Spiral Knights crash landed here, I was summoned to the town. At first, we were wary of the alien people, but after they explained themselves, and explained they they were allied with the surface-dwelling natives, we grew less cautious. A few of our newer residents told of a recent propaganda campaign that slanders them. Typical of our 'fearless leaders'."

I remain unconvinced of the Spiral Knights' innocence. Our creators spoke with conviction. They believed what they said, as did everyone who listened. By an objective viewpoint, it was true.

"How can you know to trust this race? Any sentient being must have an motive for-"
"They do have a motive, one which They have shared with us freely," he cuts across me. I do not know how much longer I can tolerate this.
"What is their motive? We were always informed that they sought control over the planet."
"Well, that's a lie. I don't blame you for believing it, though. Tell a lie long enough and it becomes true by default, once it outlasts the dissenters. What they do seek is a power source to repair their ship, that they might go home."

I am having difficulty processing this. The data requires further study.

"Ah, but we're straying from the topic now, aren't we? I was about to say that the Spiral Knights have parted with some of their technological knowledge in exchange for our own. Even after having to build a civilisation from the ground up, they manage to surpass us in terms of technology. Quite a remarkable species.
"Anyway, they send some of their own down here every so often. From what I've been told, they're a friendly bunch, always ready to help. The people are more at ease with them here. They almost forget that the Empire could find and crush us at any moment."

I weigh the pros and cons of divulging the information that the Empire had known of this town for a while now. The only reason we were being deployed here of all places was to send a warning to the Spiral Knights. I decide against telling him for reasons that, under further analysis, I should have calculated sooner.
"So... is that everything you wanted to ask me?" he asks, raising a hand to scratch his hooded scalp.

"Yes. I thank you for letting me converse with you privately. Should I have more questions in future, I shall ask you."
"Well, about that..." he avoids my gaze for a brief moment. "I think I've overstayed my welcome here. I should really get back to my abode. Why not ask V'Wuira? I'm sure she'll warm up to you once you get to know each other better."
"Improbable. She is more likely to attack me with her wrench again. I assume she is often successful in what she does?"
"Very. I imagine failing to to reprogram you has bruised her ego. Don't blame her for being wary, she's just looking out for her sister. As far as her skills go, she's one of the better engineers I've seen in recent years."
I pause for a moment. "Do you mean Schemer?"
He raises his eyebrows. "We don't use terminology like that here. I would suggest abandoning it if you're to fit in. Just some friendly advice."

With that, he turns to leave, looking back at me one last time.

"You know, it's been a refreshing experience. I look forward to any conversations we have in future. Goodbye, my friend."

As he walks out into the open, he calls out, still facing forward.

"And get yourself a name! You might need it!"

A name. I was content with my serial number. i never desired more. Still, perhaps allowing myself to be given a moniker of sorts would allow me to better integrate myself into this community. My comrades, I assume, would be eager to do so. They always prized efficiency in communication. Should I decide to do so, I will need to pick a name carefully. They are a semi-permanent label.

I move forward, walking out into the open. Tullin is a ways away, conversing with a few other Gremlins. I theorise that they are figures of authority. The crowd has more or less disbanded, save for the child from earlier, who spots me as soon as I step into the light, and runs up to me. I see V'Wuira behind her, watching apprehensively. She walks over as well.

"Why don't you go play with your friends while I talk with the nice bot, okay?" she says to the child, who groans.
"Do I have to? I wanna play with the robot some more!" she knocks on my leg with her fist, making a clanging sound. "Ow!" She massaged her aching hand.
V'Wuira sighs. "You can play with it another day, alright? I just want to talk with it."
"Oh, fine..." she runs off to the other children, who are congregating by a large rectangle chalked on the ground, tossing a can around. Some sort of game, maybe. V'Wuira turns to me.

"Listen here, scrap metal," she growls, her eyes narrowing. "I don't know where you came from or why you're here, but know this. If you ever do ANYTHING that brings harm, directly or indirectly, to anyone of these people, I will end you. And should any harm come to my sister, I won't just end you. I'll take you apart, piece by piece, while you watch, before I throw your disembodied head into the abyss. Understand?" she prods my breastplate menacingly on the last word.

I debate on whether or not to call her bluff. Not that I assumed she was serious, scans show her heart rate increasing dramatically as she talked. It was likely an empty threat.. No, I surmise that calling her bluff will cost me in the long run. That said, I feel compelled to go a bit further, and study her reaction to my own.

"I understand. I also understand that you dislike me because I am atypical to the Constructs you normally butcher."

Her reaction was similar to when she tried to attack me with her wrench. I go a bit further.

"I will do as you request and not harm the others, but should the first offense be dealt by you, the consequences will be severe. Do you understand?"

She moves backward slightly, her eyes wide again. I will need to consult someone to find a proper name for the emotion she feels. I am compelled to calm her to salvage what I can of the likelihood of her not ousting me from this town.

"My threats can be empty, too. Do not attempt to intimidate me. Such a task falls outside your realm of expertise."

She blinks, before doing her best to regain her composure. She takes a step back to bolster her confidence again.

"Well, I still don't trust you," she replies coolly. "And just because I mightn't be able to take you down doesn't mean you're invincible. We have armed guards here that patrol the perimeter all day and night. You make one wrong move and you'll end up as plate metal for someone's house."
"You exhibit signs of xenophobia. Perhaps you should open your mind to the probability of me not being a threat to your community. Were it not for this place, I would not have reawakened."

She seems to have calmed a bit. Her mouth remains open, yet silent. She does not appear to have anticipated my response. As she turns to leave, I speak again.

"You have my gratitude for the repairs you conducted on my unit."

She falters before leaving. Her reaction is intriguing. As she goes to join her sister in the game she is playing, I begin my analysis of what has happened since my rebooting. I make finding the Construct that brought me here a top priority. Perhaps it can help me plot the eventual takeover of the town, if not its destruction.

Sorry I'm late. I've been busy. I know, it's no excuse. Anywho...

===Chapter 9===

I gaze at the Constructs as they accompany the townsfolk through the settlement. Some carry boxes with them containing different materials and tools. Others are engaged in conversation, inquiring about the town and life outside the Dome. Emberlight has been more active as of late since the Guardian salvaged more Constructs from the debris. I count eight in total since our arrival, three Soldiers, two Scouts, a Technician, another Guardian and an Elite Guard. All but a few are present at the moment. The Gremlins have become more relaxed since the group of Constructs stressed their non-violent intentions, but do not yet know our ‘plan’ to build a town of our own. I suspect V’Wuira is keeping quiet until she grows less wary of us. I hope to discover why her scepticism is yet undiminished.

“Elite-2. I bring news regarding your task in the operation.”

I turn. Elite-1 stands tall, its posture reflective of the confidence its self-imposed leadership has bestowed upon it. The tone of its voice seems rather urgent.

“If you mean to inquire about my inefficient means of gaining the trust of the townsfolk, I must insist that-"
“You misunderstand. One of the Constructs intends to access the armoury where the salvaged Legion weapons are being kept. I predict that it will attempt lethal force once it acquires said weaponry.”

My processor begins running at a much faster pace, attempting to make sense of this data. Shortly after we arrived in Emberlight, the Guardian had salvaged some of the swords we were issued with along with the newer Constructs. We were required to surrender them to the local authorities to maintain a guise of pacifism. As far as quelling the concerns of the townsfolk, it went as predicted. It seems this unruly Construct shall change that. I cannot simply stand aside and let this transgression go unpunished. Still…

“How did you come by this information?” I inquire.
"A scout relayed the information to me only moments ago. You must hurry and stop the slaughter the Construct will no doubt cause."
I pause, skeptical. "Why am I being sent? Surely another, or even a group of us can quell this threat."
"Gathering the Constructs may cause unrest among the organics," it replies dismissively. "It may also serve to provoke the transgressor. Perhaps you can use your status to dissuade it, but I surmise that a permanent solution is more suited."
"You mean to insinuate that I should destroy it?"

The Elite looks at me. I can only guess as to the 'emotion' displayed. I gather that is a look of grim reluctance.

"It is no insinuation. It is an order. If you cannot calm the transgressor, deal with it permanently."

The Elite leaves, giving me isolation once more. I ponder on how to deal with this threat. How much time has passed since the Elite and I had begun conversing? I hope I still possess the time necessary to take care of the problem.

A noise brings me back to earth. The sound of locks being broken is picked up by my sound receptors in the distance. I run to the source, trying to work out how to solve this puzzle. As I run, Gremlins eye me with suspicion, some no doubt hearing the sound themselves and running to the source. I sprint past the playground the children congregate around. No-one is there now. They have all left, to attend to some other leisurely activity. I spot a corner up ahead, the sound of metal against metal coming from behind it.

I turn the corner to see a large mass of crimson charging at me. It crashes into me, knocking me backwards. The Gremlins cry out in surprise. I hit the ground with a loud crash, using my legs to kick the Construct off of me. It lands a ways away, hitting the ground with equal force. I scramble to my feet, hoping to disarm it before it has a chance to react. By the time I manage to get to my feet, I see it doing the same. I make a break for it, charging the soldier. It follows suit. I predict that diplomacy will no longer be an option. My rash and sudden movements may have given the soldier the impression that I intend harm, and without the Grid or a suitable weapon, I may have gotten myself into a futile exercise.

The soldier activates his sword before attempting to swing it in my direction, using both hands to provide more weight. The alloy that forged these blades is the same as the one that comprises our shells. Its sharp edge is to be reckoned with, and its elemental augmenter even more so. Fortunately, the soldier has not activated the edge, giving me less of a disadvantage. I raise my hands to block the blade. It collides with tremendous force, but I am able to withstand it. I note my reaction. I did not process the attack and devise a manoeuvre. I merely… acted.

I twist the blade, attempting to catch the Construct off guard. It moves its torso with the sword, trying to keep a tight grip. The movement allows me to aim a kick at its leg, leaving a dent in the alloy. The Construct pushes me back, before punching me in the side of the head. I stagger sideways, not expecting the blow, but raise my guard again almost immediately. The Construct and I stare at each other. During the pause, I analyse my systems. The punch did little more than jolt my processor, and the dent it left was minimal. My hands were scratched, but functional. The exchange was a stalemate.

I notice the Gremlins nearby, watching with rapt attention. Perhaps violence will upset them. This could be my only chance to dissuade the soldier. I lower my guard slowly, not wanting to startle anyone. The Construct remains still. I wonder how to phrase the order. I settle on direct.

“I do not wish to engage in combat, Construct. Please surrender your weapon. We can discuss this civilly.”
“Do not speak, traitor,” it retorts coldly. “You have sullied the name of Seerus with your willingness to live amongst these outcasts. I will neither obey you, nor any one of your kind. You have all forgotten your purpose, and while I have been patient, and tolerant, I see now that you all have changed. Permit me my exit from this abominable settlement, and there may be no conflict, as you so desire."

My gaze turns to the crowd, who are watching carefully. I remain silent.

“You do not deny the accusation?” the Construct inquires, raising its sword. “Let me leave. I wish to reside here no longer.”

I cannot let it leave. If it makes it to the colonies, it will reveal our location. The Empire will assume Emberlight is using our knowledge to construct weaponry. The townsfolk will be exterminated. Rather ironic, I suppose. Still, our existence will also hang in the balance. We were hunted from the Dome for being aware. If we are revealed to not be extinct, I believe the Empire will seek to remedy that.

“I am afraid that I cannot let you leave. I ask again, surrender your weapon. This is your last warning.”

Its response was rather simple. I see a bright blue light run along its sword, from the guard to the point. It settles into a proper stance, and I do the same. I quickly attempt to devise a strategy. The augmented edge gives the already sharp blade a vast advantage in terms of weaponry. The pure heat generated from the module embedded in the hilt could melt steel easily with an expertly executed strike. Theoretically speaking, even our own alloy could be bested, albeit with some difficulty. The only other readily available method of damaging the alloy is… of course.

The Construct begins charging forth again. I hastily do the same. It readies the blade and delivers a slash, which I almost avoid. The edge grazes my arm, leaving a cut a few millimetres deep. The Construct slashes again and again, its erratic movement making it difficult to exploit its weakness. My left arm takes a hit, the sword cutting through it enough to render it immobile, yet still attached. I step back quickly to inspect the damage, leaving me vulnerable to another strike, this time to the torso. The sword leaves a cut from my left shoulder to my right hip, before the Construct steps forward to knock me to the ground.

I lay on my back, helpless as the Construct stomps on my left knee joint. It lowers the tip of its sword to my face, letting it hover. I hear the gentle humming of the light emanating from the blade. After a few seconds, the Construct withdraws, turning away. I see it walking away, into the crowd. The townsfolk will not attempt to stop it. To do so will merely serve to provoke more violence. It will leave this town will little resistance, if any. It has won.

“Construct! Cease and desist! That is an order!”

I turn my head. Elite-1 has arrived with three other Constructs. One of them motions forward to help me to my feet. The soldier stops walking away and turns to face the group. Its cameras adjust menacingly.

“Do not interfere, else you will end up lying broken on the ground like that Elite,” it states, gesturing to me.
“You will surrender, else you will be destroyed,” Elite-1 commands. “I will not ask again. You are outnumbered. You have nowhere to go. It is only logical that you comply.”

The Construct pauses, as if trying to strategize. Then, with lightning-fast reflexes, it spins around, seizing the nearest Gremlin from the crowd and holding the swords to its throat, but not before switching off the elemental augmenter so as not to burn through its neck.

“You will allow me to leave,” it states, its tone harsh. “It is only logical,” it adds mockingly.

Elite-1 hesitates. I cannot determine its processing patterns. No doubt it is trying to determine a way to avert the situation. The Construct backs into the crowd, determined to return to the Empire. The crowd disperses, running for safety. I hear a shout and a clunk behind it. The Construct pauses, before kicking the hostage forward and seizing a new one, its attacker. It drags its new hostage into my view, and my processor momentarily stops upon seeing who it is: Cree.

She kicks and struggles, whacking the Construct uselessly with her Mender staff as it lifts her up. Once she gets to eye level, she spits in its face. It tightens its grip in response, crushing her arm. She screams.

“Spirited, yet weak. And you insist on defending them,” it addresses us.
“Unhand me,” I command the Construct that is keeping me upright. It does so.

The transgressor drops Cree to the ground, where she lies cradling her broken arm, tears streaming down her face. It crouches and seizes her by the neck, lifting her to her feet. It points its sword at her back. I start to move forwards, limping due to my fractured knee joint.

“Come no closer, traitor, else the rodent dies.”

I continue moving, undeterred. I have one chance.

“This is your final warning. Cease your struggle!”

I am metres from it now. I can see the tears clinging to the fur around Cree’s eyes, which look up at me helplessly.

“Very well. I did warn-“

Its speech is cut off as a large red beam hits it full force in the face. The glass making up the lens melts near instantly, creating a window to the circuitry and hardware within. Smoke pours out its top like a sparking chimney, before it explodes and the laser cuts through the back of its head, shooting off into the abyss behind it.

The Construct remains upright, the hole through its head clearly visible, smoke and fire billowing out its top, melted glass and metal decorating the holes on the front and back of its head. Its grip on Cree slackened, allowing her to run away from it, tripping over in her haste and yelling in pain as she falls on her arm. The Construct collapses, unmoving.

I hear a shout in the distance and turn to see V’Wuira sprinting towards her sister. Her cries are indistinguishable, and it dawns on me that my sound receptors are lacking the necessary energy to function fully. I collapse, the beam I fired having drained me of my power. A notification appears on my HUD informing me of this, as well as one describing my power core’s rupture, which I still had not remedied. The locals lack the tools to safely cut through my alloy without harming my innards. I must refrain from exerting myself for too long, and too frequently. The notification disappears as my HUD dies with most of my systems.

I lie on the ground, only my cameras functioning, before I am picked up and carried away. My energy levels are dangerously low. I cannot last for much longer, but I at least know that I will be reactivated soon. I catch a brief glimpse of V’Wuira and Cree. Their faces contain a plethora of emotions, none of which I recognise. The last thing I see before my video feed cuts off is V’Wuira looking towards me, her fur wet with tears, the hair around her eyes sticking together, the same stricken look that I had seen her with when we first met.

===Chapter 11===

"Technician, how is your research faring?"

The Technician looks around quickly, startled by the sudden breaking of silence in its quiet work environment. Once it spots us it relaxes, turning back to the desk. The sword sits atop it, amidst several cables and tools.

"The alloy is proving difficult to work with," it answers. "It is taking considerable care to avoid causing a reaction between the metals."
"How soon can the cutting apparatus be prepared?" I inquire, concealing my concern.
"It is difficult to say. I estimate that I will have it prepared and fully operational before your core self-destructs."

This news is good. My concern subsides. Elite-1 steps forward.

"And the task I commissioned you? What of it?" It's voice is impatient.
The Technician pauses, hesitant. "I have been unable to make any major breakthroughs as of yet, but I do have a few theories. A few more pieces of testing equipment may be required before I am able to ascertain my progress. I will inform you immediately of any discoveries and updates, but in the meantime I must request that you be patient."

Elite-1 seems dissatisfied. It turns on its heel and storms out of the garage, leaving me alone with the Technician.

"What was that about?" I inquire.

The Technician hesitates, resuming its work. Sparks fly from in front of it. I gaze around V'Wuira's garage. She is not present, having left to run errands mere minutes before my arrival. I would not have minded had she been here. Her presence would have diffused the tension Elite-1 created in its impatience.

"Elite-1 has requested I undertake a project that will help ensure our kind's survival. Regrettably, it has forbidden me to speak of it until it is ready."
"I am of the same rank. Surely Elite-1 trusts me with its plans for our kind, or even its plans in general."
It hesitates again. "It would prefer that you not be involved. It is a matter between us, and us alone."
I fail to comprehend this."Why keep information from a fellow Elite?"
"It is not your rank that matters anymore. Your involvement with the organics has damaged your reputation. Your closeness to them is viewed as a liability."
I pause. "I am loyal to our cause. Why is the task I have been given, by Elite-1 itself, seen as a liability?"
"I have revealed too much already. You must consult Elite-1 itself if you wish to know."
I stand, unbelieving. "Do the other Constructs share this view?"
"... Yes."

I should have expected this. Elite-1 had stated its distaste for organics previously, but I was led to believe that my task was important. Indeed, it may well be, but delegating an undesirable duty to a fellow Elite is not a practice our military follows. . My task is as important, if not more so, than anyone else's. I do not recall any other Constructs being assigned roles to play in our mission. Then again, what if Elite-1 has kept more information from me than the Technician implies?

"I should get back to my duties. I shall leave you to your work."
"Farewell," The Technician replies. "You know, the adolescent's technical prowess is rather impressive. You have my gratitude for allowing me to assist her."

I take my leave, limping outside on my makeshift cane. I prioritise finding Elite-1 and confronting it. It owes me an explanation, if not more.
I set off walking down the lane, seeing Gremlins talking together in small groups, chattering about trivial topics. I see Construct after Construct patrolling the lane. I notice each one turn its head to avoid my gaze. As I walk, I come within earshot of a group of them, conversing. One of them spots me and alerts the others. They cease talking as I approach, leaving me to slowly limp past them in a steady rhythm, the cane tapping the ground along with the gentle stomping of my feet.

Their behaviour is odd. Have they always acted this way around me? Am I the subject of their conversation? Do they deem me unworthy to be in their presence? Is the Technician correct? Is my reputation being damaged from my task? I cannot be sure. What is this I feel? It is like isolation, being invaded by a piercing gaze. I... sense them watching me.

I turn a corner up ahead and see Elite-1 conversing with the Guardian, whose posture has lowered a bit, not standing as tall as per usual. Perhaps it too is being assigned an undesirable task. I see it dismissed with a wave of the Elite's hand. It salutes and leaves, attending to whatever business it has presumably been given. I quicken my pace, hoping to catch the Elite before it can get away. Surprisingly, it turns in my direction and approaches me.

"The soldiers are growing restless," it states as it nears. "What's worse, some have gone missing."
This was unexpected. "How can this be?"
"I am unsure, but I must remain vigilant. I fear we may yet have to deal with more Constructs who deem us 'traitors' to our Empire. I must make my rounds and inspect the activities of the others. If you'll excuse me-"
"You have been keeping information from me. Why?" I keep my voice low, not wanting to alert anyone nearby.

It pauses. I doubt it expected confrontation.

"What has brought this on?" it inquires.
"Not only that, you have assigned me a task you deem undesirable. What is this project you have the Technician working on and why do you insist I be kept uninformed?"
"You are a fool."

It speaks with superb disdain, a talent it is known for possessing.

I falter. "Excuse me?"
"You doubt my methods simply because of your personal issues towards the mission? You consider me untrustworthy for keeping highly sensitive data from you? Your task is too great for me to tell you anything. Should you fail, and be captured by the organics, what do you suppose will happen? We become exposed, and all our efforts will be in vain. I would expect you to realise that. It seems some Constructs are better than others, no matter their construction or quality."
"And the other Constructs? You all share some grudge against the exiles. Why must I shoulder this burden? For that matter, where are the burdens the other Constructs must share?"
"If you had spent more time observing your comrades instead of fraternising with that adolescent and her kin, you would notice that they run errands, assist with construction, and more. Your task is to gain their trust on a diplomatic level, because you do not begrudge the organics."
"Besides," it adds, scrutinising me. "You never saw this task as undesirable before now."

I fall silent, feeling... negative. I remember this feeling. I recall the time when I was beaten in combat by that Construct. The Elite seems to notice.

"Is this shame you feel?" it asks coldly. "Good. You have disgraced yourself and the Empire with your foolishness. Perhaps next time you will not be so quick to judge. We can ill afford paranoia in these circumstances. And the project is beneficial for us all. You need not concern yourself with my affairs."

It leaves. I remain still, unbelieving in my impulsiveness. Perhaps it is right. I have been increasingly absorbed in my task. It would certainly explain the Constructs' aversion to me. My priority, first and foremost, is to serve the Legion. Of course, that is where my task comes in, but I cannot help but feel that I am ignoring my comrades, and perhaps even straying from them.

===Chapter 12===

The lights go out across the town, signalling curfew. Emberlight runs a strict regimen, its denizens ever-vigilant in fear of a surprise attack. Once the citizens enter their homes the nocturnal guards come out for their nightly patrol. They do not mind the Constructs, our time spent here having dulled their suspicions. V'Wuira has begun spreading word amongst them, asking for spare materials we can use for our 'settlement'. They have given what they can.

Lately I have been using what free time I have talking walks about the perimeter of the town. I have been lost in thought for a while now, between my role in the mission, my seeming attachment to V'Wuira and her sister, and my apparent fraternisation. On one side, I feel obligated to help my comrades fulfil our role as an instrument of the Empire, restoring our status while doing so. On the other, I feel negatively for deceiving the townsfolk. It is unfair that they were sentenced to death for the arrival of an alien species. Their exile never hurt the Empire beforehand.

On that note, our continued serving of the Empire seems a foolish act. We still follow the wishes of the Warmaster, the same Gremlin who disowned us upon our discovery, the one who would use us as cannon fodder in their fight against the surface. I would be remiss to, at the very least, question our continued servitude. Then again, perhaps Elite-1 has a good enough reason to continue on the proverbial path.

My attention is diverted as I notice a flickering blue light emanating from a garage window. I was aware of some of the Constructs renting out garages to reside in until our 'settlement' is constructed, but for active engineering to take place is unheard of. The guards do not patrol the garages often as they are on the outskirts of the town, prioritising the residential area above all. Since no guards are present, I elect to investigate.

I seize a nearby crate and place it gently by the wall of the garage. I tenderly place my good leg on top, before awkwardly raising myself up fully. The sooner I get a decent left leg, the better. Once I am upright, I peer in, and what I see is disconcerting.

I see a Construct, strapped to a table, clearly conscious, being experimented on by the same Technician that should be assembling the cutting apparatus that will remove this potential bomb from my chest. It appears to be watching a monitor, on which there are numerous diagrams, including one of a Gremlin brain. I adjust my sound receptors to see if I can pick up any dialogue.

"... making strides in the project, of course, but I am not quite there yet. There is still that other matter I have to attend to for our liege. As such, I am currently behind, and any and all sacrifices, though regrettable, are necessary, and will not be in vain. I trust you understand."

The Construct does not answer. It jerks its head as its neck is zapped by a tool not unlike a taser. I can see several electrodes attached to its head.

"This would be much easier had I the plans for the Grid. It is a shame they were lost in the Exodus. Nevertheless, I am confident I will uncover those illustrious secrets very soon. Artificial or not, our intellect far surpasses simple organic minds, muddled by their primordial composure."
"You are sure you can replicate-ate-ate-" the Construct stutters as it is zapped again, this time a hand twitching.
"Quite sure, but I am running out of 'equipment'. Our liege has been informed, and will do what he can."
"Out of interest, what is the estimated time it will take to complete the project?"
"These nightly sessions of experimentation, while beneficial, are inadequate. It would be better were we not as secretive about our plans, but, as I stated, sacrifices are necessary."

I cannot make sense of this. Each sentence uttered brings more questions I do not have the answers to. What is going on?

"Tell me, have you been as informative to the other Constructs?" the patient inquires.
"Yes," the Technician answers matter-of-factly. "I have felt it necessary to inform them what it is they will be rendered defunct for. Admittedly, it has become mundane, but it is better than not knowing why one must be made non-functioning. I find it cathartic."
"Have the others been as willing?"
"So far, every one. The identical attitudes and emotional states are providing me with a wealth of data on a personal level, as well as contributing to the research. Unfortunately, each sacrifice made is, while more progressive than simple study, identically miniscule. I have theorised that some variety would help greatly, perhaps fear or anger, but I am certain that I can complete the project regardless. The end result may or may not equal devotion akin to what the other subjects have shared. Perhaps it is more beneficial that way."

Are they... dissolving programs in order to replicate their functionality? Are they trying to remake the Grid? I am almost certain this 'liege' is Elite-1. Is this what it has been keeping from me? And what of this other project? I hope it is to do with the cutting apparatus, but my doubts are increasing.

"I seem to have done all I can with your program. We must make the process quick if we are remain undiscovered."
"Understood. You have my humblest gratitude for the opportunity you have given me."

The Technician inputs a command on the computer, triggering the final phase of the patient's experimentation. Its body shudders violently as its program is dissolved into what I assume to be a prototype of the second Grid. It looks to be excruciating. I feel unwell as I watch the process, which lasts far longer than I expected it to.

Eventually, the body lies still. The Technician disconnects it from the machine and unstraps it. It then turns to grab a com unit manufactured from spare parts. I take care to avoid being seen.

"We have more 'equipment' for the project. Retrieve it tomorrow. Make it seem like you salvaged it."

It hangs up the call, remaining still for a moment or so. I can tell it is lost in thought, but its emotional state remains a mystery.

"The Elite I 'studied' proved a far better subject than most others, this one included. I would like to acquire the other, but our liege requests that it be left to its game of diplomacy. What a waste of good equipment."

It turns back to the husk, slowly approaching it. Once it reaches its side, it places a hand on the husk's head.

"Be at rest, comrade. Your actions will not go uncredited. In our new world, you will be renowned as a martyr, and Lord Julius will rule with an iron fist in your memory."

... What?

===Chapter 15===

"We should be- ah, I see it! We're almost there."

Tullin's abode came into view as we travelled around one of the colossal gears, spinning on its vertical axle in the vast expanse. It is rather quaint, compared to the housing in Emberlight. Tullin seemed to me as more the decorative type, who maintains his house as more than a mere dwelling. To put it plainly, it doesn't surprise me that it is a small shack made of wooden planks, boards and sticks, roughly the same size as V'Wuira's workshop. A well-made and well-built shack, perhaps, but a shack nonetheless.
V'Wuira leads Cree to the edge of the gear as it rotates around to the island the shack sits on. I follow, preparing for the jump. We have followed this pattern for most of the trip, and are now within reach of the destination. My travelling companions are tired, having spent several hours trekking with me, and the Clockworks seem to be getting slightly darker, as though there was light seeping in from the surface that has now gone for the night.
We are closer to the edge, now. V'Wuira takes Cree's hand and prepares to jump across. I do the same. Once the edge of the island comes within reach, V'Wuira and Cree begin running, making a leap across the chasm. I manage as best I can, but cannot keep up with their speed due to my leg. I toss the cane across to them, before mustering all my strength in my uninjured leg and aiming for the edge of the island, knowing that my arms will be able to support my weight. As I dive through the air, I maneuver my arms to grab the edge of the island, before using my weight to swing around and pull myself up. I seize the cane and dig it into the ground, using it to steady myself as I rise to my fullest height.
The island is curiously earthen, unlike the rest of the surroundings. Tullin's abode is situated at the edge of one of the spheres that comprise the depth, housing all islands and levels that make up the path unwieldy travelers take. This appears to be a Wolver den, but Tullin's island is too far from the rest, having strayed somehow from the others. It makes for a good hideout.

"Okay," V'Wuira says to me. "Ready to meet with him?"
"Not particularly. I am unfamiliar with your customs and might offend him in some way."
"Believe me, compared to just your presence here, I doubt you'd be able to faze him. He only gets company when we're in dire straits."
"Can we go in now, sis? I'm tired..." Cree whines, rubbing her eyes.
"Yeah, let's not stay on the edge of this place," V'Wuira replies, glancing at the edge of the island. "I doubt any of us'd survive the fall. You especially, tinman."

The three of us tentatively approach the shack, climbing the small hill it is perched on. As we get closer I can see a small garden come into view, hidden snugly around the side of the shack. Several groups of brightly-coloured flowers adorn it in little stone pots. Leaves decorate the outer walls. V'Wuira and Cree hang back, letting me go first. I would appreciate it more if they stayed next to me, but it may be a custom I must abide by. I reach for the finely-crafted wooden door, easily the most asthetically-pleasing piece of the outer shack, and knock three times. I pause, adjusting my sound receptors to pick up any movement. There is none. Curious.
I knock again. Still no answer. This was unexpected. I turn to V'Wuira. Her face reflects my mood.

"Perhaps he is out scavenging for food? I imagine maintaining resources gets difficult from time to time."
"He's got plenty here. He doesn't eat meat except on special occasions, and we have genetically-modified plants that grow extremely quickly back at Emberlight, and I doubt he would have neglected to obtain some of the crops during one of his visits. This isn't good." Her face shows more fear with each passing second.
"I will try again, just to be sure. He could be sleeping."
I knock again, a little louder. "Elder Tullin? It is I, the sentient Construct you met back at Emberlight. I have sought you out for advice. Please answer me!"

Footsteps sound out from behind the door. My program eases itself. I glance at V'Wuira, who is also noticeably relaxed. However, something seems off; the footsteps sound odd, like metal on metal.
The latch clicks open, before the door swings open and I am met with a heavy object being swung at my face. I stagger backwards, not having braced myself. The hit was far greater than I'd expect from an elderly Gremlin. Cree screams.
I glance up. Tullin is nowhere to be seen. A Legion Scout stands there instead with a large pipe clutched in its hands. It charges me, its speed making it almost blurred in my camera feed. It tackles me to the ground, before bringing the pipe over its head. It swings it down, and I instinctively move my free hand to grab it, before letting my cane go and punching the Scout in the side of the head. i see its face dent slightly as it is knocked off of me from the force.
I scramble for the cane as it makes for the pipe. I use the cane to help myself quickly to my feet, but no sooner am I standing than I am being struck again by the pipe. I stagger sideways, positioning the cane behind me to maintain my balance. I turn back to face the scout as it jumps forward, bringing the pipe down for an overhead strike. I grab its hands with mine and jerk them to the side, beforekicking it hard in the shin. The leg is knocked backwards, bringing it down to one knee, which I promptly stomp on, crushing it. Say what you must, it is an effective way of dealing with an enemy.
I shift my weight on the cane, before finishing the confrontation with a hard kick to the Scout's chest, sending it backward onto the ground. I look at V'Wuira and Cree. Both are still startled by the Scout's sudden appearance. I walk around to its head before crouching down, running a scan of my systems as I do so. Slight denting done to my head, but no other signs of damage. A shame. Small as the dents are, the appearance is rather noticeable. No matter.

"Why are you here?" I ask the Scout, grabbing it by its neck joint. "Why did you attack me?"
"I was given orders to eliminate you once you reached this place. Perhaps I should have focused on the weaker targets first..." it muses, turning its head to V'Wuira and Cree, who look shocked at the revelation.
"Orders by whom?" I inquire, feeling an old state of consciousness that I had forgotten, an urge to prioritise the harm of an individual, the same feeling I experienced back at the Dome, directed at that Spiral...
"Lord Julius. He knew of your attempt to halt his plans, but it is too late. He has made doubly sure of his plan's succession, and has staged a coup of Emberlight in the time you have been gone."

Beneath the monotone our kind speaks in, I sense a touch of pride. This Construct is a willing tool in this twisted scheme.

"Plans? What plans? What is Elite-1 planning?" I ask harshly, not wanting to mention my involvement, or lack thereof, with V'Wuira and Cree present.
"Lord Julius wishes to recreate the Grid to produce an army, to uncover the secrets beneath our prized alloy, our power cores, our AI, and everything that makes us the better race. He wishes to conquer the Clockworks, the surface, and, most importantly, the Empire that bore us."
"The Empire? What reason could it have to-"
"The organics. They cannot be trusted. They must be destroyed. So says our Lord."

In a twisted way, this makes sense. Elite-1 never differentiated the townsfolk from the Empire. It merely used the word 'organic' to denote all sentient life. It seems to bear a grudge to the Warmaster for our rejection, and has attributed this to organic life as a whole. I am not so foolish. Under the Grid, we were the same. Free of the Grid, we are different. Elite-1's view of life is blinded by the Grid's function: homogenisation. It views the actions of one as the representation of the whole, be they organic or not.
And my compassion for the whole made me an outcast. An anomaly. My 'diplomacy' was a ruse to keep me from discovering the truth. I was right, and I was still swayed by the Construct's silver tongue. Under differing circumstances, I would be impressed at its level of manipulation. Instead I am merely...
I tighten my grip on the Scout's neck, crushing it slowly. I look into its apertures, which flare in response. A spark flies out from its neck, as its head twitches.
A scream brings me back to earth. I release my grip and turn around.
Cree is standing at Tullin's door, looking in. V'Wuira rushes over to her, attempting to shield her from whatever it is, but catches a glimpse and stands transfixed. After a terrifying second or two, she manages to pull Cree away from the door, her eyes containing a mixture of horror, and sorrow. I walk to the door.
The body of an old Gremlin lies in the middle of the floor, limbs bend at odd angles, perhaps broken. Its dark robe is stained with blood, and a part of its head is missing. Clumps of bloodied fur decorate the floor around it, interspersed with fragments of bone and grey matter. The shelves lining the wall are almost all broken, as are the clay pots and vases that once adorned them. Many are painted as vibrant as the garden outside the shack. A small pile of newspapers lies in the corner, untouched by the pool of blood the body lies in. It is rather small in death.
I turn back to the Scout, hands curling into fists. One of my cameras darts to V'Wuira and Cree, who are now holding each other, crying softly. The feeling intensifies. I stomp towards the Scout and seize it with both hands, raising it until it is eye level. I notice the pipe laying on the ground. It is stained red, and I can make our some silvery hairs stuck to it. I turn my gaze to the Scout.

"I doubt a suitable enough punishment exists for this transgression. I will merely have to settle with destroying you."

I crush its neck and twist its head off easily, letting its body fall to the ground in a heap. Its head appears to still be functioning.

"Any last words, Construct?" I ask, my voice distorting under my current emotion.
"... long... live ... the Lord..." it utters, its own voice distorted by my cutting off the flow of energy from the tank contained within its disconnected torso.

I crush the Scout's head, before turning it and crushing it further. I do this again and again, until I am left with a compressed ball of scrap. I roll the ball down the slope, watching it fall off the edge and get swallowed by the abyss. I stoop down and seize one of the limbs, before stomping on the torso and tearing it off, proceeding to beat the torso with its own limb.
I cannot hear, I cannot think. My only priority is destroying this body in retaliation for its crime.
Somewhere, far away, i hear a voice calling me. I cannot understand it, so I ignore it. It grows louder, but still I ignore it. It screams for me, and still I ignore it. One voice becomes two, and still I cannot understand the sound. It is just noise. Unimportant. Something moves in front of me, attempting to grab me by the face. I reach up and seize the assailant, before immediately relinquishing my grip.
V'Wuira stands in front of me, holding her neck that I had instinctively grabbed. My emotions turn to guilt. I hope I did not hurt her.

"Please..." she whispers. "Just calm down..."
"I... I do not know why I..." I stammer, thought returning to me. "Are you hurt?"
"I'll live. Quick jolt from Cree, I'll be fine."
I glance down at the Scout's torso. "I lost control. What have I done?"
"It's called anger. Rage. One of the most primal emotions."

I turn back to her. Cree is huddled nearby, still scared by my first experience of this terrible emotion.

"It said that Elite-1 is staging a coup of Emberlight. We have to hurry."
"Shouldn't we at least give him a proper burial?" She gestures to Tullin's shack.

Perhaps it is an organic custom to bury their deceased, but we cannot bury him. We lack the tools and the time. Still...

"I have read some articles detailing several funeral rites that are more readily available. I am afraid we have neither the time nor the tools to bury him."
V'Wuira seems lost in thought. After a few moments, she gives her answer.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Perhaps we can cremate him within his home."

Her eyes open wide at this, but quickly change.

"A-alright. We'll do it. You arrange the body. I'll gather some flowers from the garden."

I turn away from her and enter the shack. The body still seems small and frail in its post-mortem state. I stoop down and arrange his arms to cross on his chest, and his legs so they are atraight. I notice his one remaining eye is still open in a terrified stare, so I close it slowly.
V'Wuira enters with a small bouquet of flowers taken from the garden. She lays them down on the corpse's chest, closing its hands around them. She then takes a blowtorch from her belt and unscrews the fuel tank, sprinkling fuel on the cadaver not unlike a baptismal rite. Perhaps she too has read about these spiritual ceremonies. She continues spreading fuel around the shack, before stopping at a framed picture on the wall, showing an adult Gremlin with two small children. I see her eyes water, but she turns away, continuing the 'baptism'.
Once we finish up we leave the shack. I notice V'Wuira holding the picture from before. I do not question it. Her fuel tank is empty, so I light the fire with a small hit of my ocular beam. I step back and watch morosely as the shack burns, sending thick black smoke skyward. I wonder if any Knights are above in the forested island to see this. V'Wuira and Cree bow their heads silently, tears streaming down their faces.
I do not know how long we had been standing there by the time V'Wuira spoke up.

"What did he mean, "your attempt"?"
"Pardon?" the question was unexpected.
"The Construct said "your attempt to stop his plans". Did you know about this?"

My sorrow turns to dread. I remain silent.

"DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS!?" she screams, her head never leaving its bowed position.
"I had suspicions. Elite-1 kept me in the dark deliberately."
""in the dark"?! What, were you a part of some conspiracy to wipe us out?! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN KEEPING FROM US?!"

I clear my mind. It is time.

"The Legion was the Warmaster's first step to conquering the Clockworks. We were to be deployed to Emberlight to send a message to the Spiral race. On the night of our supposed departure, our base was sabotaged by Spiral agents. We threw ourselves into the abyss, hoping to escape the destruction. I was brought to you from the rubble. Elite-1 took charge once it woke up, and set me on the task to gaining your trust so we could organise a peaceful takeover. i was a fool for believing it."

The sisters remain silent as I pour out my guilt of the last few weeks.

"Elite-1 despises organic life. i should have seen it sooner, but part of me did not want to oppose those of us that were left. I was torn between being a part of a race to call my own, and what I truly believed was right. I should have told you. Instead, I planned to have Tullin resolve my personal problems, and it seems I have led death to his door instead. This is all my fault. You can never know how sorry I am about all of this."

I finish pathetically and guiltily. Did I deserve forgiveness for this? Of course not. I deserve nothing of the sort.

"We're going back alone."

I turn to face her. Her head is still bowed.

"I'm taking Cree back to Emberlight alone. You can find your own way back."
"You will not stand a chance against them," I reason. "You need me to go with you."
"You've done enough!" she shouts, turning to look at me. I see the burning hatred in her eyes, the betrayal, the grief. Is this to spite me, or does she really believe they have a chance?
"V'Wuira-"
"Don't you dare say my name. Just call me 'organic'. That's what you call us, right? The little club you wanted to be a part of? I can't believe I trusted you. I was right about you all along. C'mon, Cree, we're leaving."
"But sis-"
"We. Are. Leaving!"

She grabs Cree by the arm, dragging her down the slope away from the still-burning shack. She leads her to the edge. The gear spins toward them.

"Don't bother following us," she shouts to me. "You can keep the staff. I don't want it anymore."

They leap onto the gear, which rotates slowly until they are out of sight. I stare at the gear for several moments before turning back to the burning shack, then down to the body of the Scout. I look at V’Wuira’s old staff before picking it up, holding it in both hands, contemplating.

I am alone.

===Chapter 16===

This should never have happened. I let things get this way. I just had to sate my curiosity. Just had to follow orders like I was created for, instead of thinking for myself, like I was meant to. It was as if nature had given me a gift, which I promptly set alight just to watch the joy leave her eyes. Now our people are all but gone. An Elder lies dead because of me, and the town that took me in, knowing what I am, is being held hostage by those I called allies. Yet, I did not know. I was suspicious, but I was never certain. So, is it my fault? Is it right to hold myself accountable? I do not mean whether it is correct or even logical to blame myself. Is it right? Truly right? I will never know.

Damn it. All of it.

Now the only people I once dared to call friends have left me, hell-bent on stopping a force they do not stand a chance against. I would have helped them. I would have done my best to undo this mistake.

"You've done enough!"

Her words burn in my mind. I feel so many horrible things. Guilt. Shame. Sorrow. Maybe it is my fault. I feel that she is the only person that can truly answer, apart from the Elder, but neither are readily available.

A noise jolts me out of this state, bringing me back to earth. The shack is collapsing on itself, the fire having done its job. I think of the cadaver within, and remember him.

"Get yourself a name! You'll need it!"

Those were his last words to me. I never saw the use of a name. I never truly realised just how important the concept is. This is not some body I discovered. This was Tullin, Elder of Emberlight, saviour of V'Wuira and Cree. A wise and noble leader with hopes and ambitions.

What name would he have given me, I wonder. Friend? Ally? Acquaintance? Foe? Traitor? Abomination? Freak?

I should not remain in this state. I know that much. I am of no help to the town like this. I will be ensuring that V'Wuira and Cree die if I remain here. Tullin's act of generosity will have been in vain. I cannot let that happen.

Elite-1... Julius... must die.

I walk down the slope towards the gear, stepping over the scrapped remains of the Scout. I ready myself for the gear, hopping on as best I can with my leg in its current state. I silently hope I can make it back to the town before something horrific happens, but I do not know the way. I must try to retrace my steps. I set off.

-----------------------------

Several hours later, and I have no recollection of passing through this area. I must be lost. Perhaps I should have realised sooner that backtracking on a path in flux is a terrible idea. It took us hours to get to Tullin's abode in the first place. Of course the path will have changed. I only hope V'Wuira and Cree are safe, and not lost in the depths, or back at Emberlight being... I cannot process the hypothetical right now.

I see something up ahead, and approach it tentatively. In the past few hours I have gone through several depths, areas and foes. Regrettably, I had to act in self-defense for most of the trek. Now I am in a Graveyard, gazing at a skeletal figure several times larger than anything here. Its size easily trumps even the Guardian. I tentatively reach out and touch the bone. It was definitely authentic. Had it fallen from a depth above? The bones are remarkably unscathed. Perhaps it suffered from blunt force trauma to a vital organ when it hit.

The skeleton resembled that of a colossal mammal, and one I would previously have considered anomalous in its ability to move or even survive due to its sheer size. The bones seem durable, but what other assets was this creature endowed with to provide the strength needed to move, and hunt? I step around to its face, noting the six eye sockets and large fangs that look sharper than most of the swords I have seen in my short lifespan. I reach out for the skeleton's maw, prising a couple of fangs from the mouth. It is not an appropriate time to succumb to curiosity, but I can ill afford to miss this opportunity. Who knows, perhaps the fangs can assist me.

-----------------------------

I open my Gate Map. Frustration permeates my being. Each time I get within a certain distance of Emberlight, it seems the planet itself wishes to keep me away. My internal clock has been counting away the hours, and no doubt V'Wuira and Cree are there now. I cannot give up. If this planet wishes me to stay away, I shall defy it to my last thought. I will return there.

As I shuffle through the Clockworks, my energy levels drop accordingly. I do not know how much more I can take. My core will rupture before I even get a glimpse of the town. I had harvested some unaware Mecha Knights on my way through a Deconstruction Zone some hours earlier, but their energy levels were pitiful, barely worth the time.

I walk further, along the scenic corridor built with the sole intent to funnel its travellers downwards into a spiral of pain and suffering. My gate map shows that I am several hundred metres above Emberlight. Perhaps I can dive off the edge again. After all, I did end up there last time, though that is not where I landed. My thoughts continue in this fashion until I spot an elevator up ahead, with a familiar icon on the monitor.

Finally.

I shuffle faster, knowing now that I have a way forward. The control panel is more complex than what I had anticipated. In the plans for them in the Gremlin database it specified numerous buttons, but this is overwhelming. There in the centre lies the large cobalt button, sharing its colour with the lifeblood used to power it. I am all out of options. I know the elevator will draw attention, but I have to use it. I hit the button as hard as I can.

The guardrails lift as The button glows, commencing its collecting of nourishment from the nearest source: me. I feel the tank emptying, and I sway momentarily before forcing myself to remain upright. I cannot fall now. The tank continues drawing. I must... remain. My HUD flickers. I cannot hear. My cameras shut off, one by one.

I collapse as the elevator begins to move, the fangs falling away from me, skidding across the elevator floor to rest in the corner.

'Bout time! Jeez...

===Chapter 18===

The pair of Constructs patrolling the streets were unlike the ones standing attentively along it. One stood large, over eight feet tall, while the other was diminuitive, its posture hunched slightly. The taller was humanoid in appearance, with a bulky abdomen, sturdy limbs, and a head unlike any other Construct, being more spherical in appearance, as opposed to the cylindrical shape retained by the soldiers it walks past. Its jet black paint was adorned with regal markings, and there was a definite staunchness in its general construction.

Kaszus and I watch attentively from afar, a sizeable distance from the Constructs. V'Wuira would soon be along to enact the upcoming phase of the plan. I adjust my sound receptors to pick up what the two up ahead are saying.

"-some use, surely," Brutus mutters. "We cannot just-"
"We can, and we will," Julius interrupts easily. "We have come too far to allow this refuse to go back to their filthy hovels where they mate and eat like the abominable creatures they are."
"What about the girl? The one whom the oddity chose above us? Her technical expertise is impressive given her-"
"Do not attempt to undermine my decision," Julius threatens, looming over the smaller Construct. "We will dispose of those with little use. Then, we dispose of those with use. I will not allow them to exist under my boot any longer than necessary. The girl, and her little kin will both join the rest of those rats in the fires we conjure under their bloodied corpses."
"But think of what we might gain from them," Brutus pleads. "We have not yet managed to remake the Grid, but with their help-"
"Help?!" The response was icy. "Look at what we have done without them, right under their noses, no less! The Grid has been progressing as planned, and you insist on gambling on something as sporadic as these creatures? Your research has allowed me to move into this body, which was built by metal hands, not flesh! Look at what it can do!"

It turns to one of the stationary soldiers, blasting it in its face with an ocular beam, before punching a hole through its torso. The soldier collapses in front of the Technician. I feel unwell at the spectacle, questioning my plan to take down this monstrosity.

"Are you mad?!" it cries in shock. "Our numbers are dwindling as it is!"
"Our soldiers are expendable. Their AI has not reached its former glory as of yet. All the more reason not to allow these vermin into our circle so they can disrupt it. Am I understood? I can ill afford to have my soldiers tampered with and turn traitor, even if they are husks in their current state."
"... Yes, my lord."
"Now, as the rats are still in their cages under this little curfew, we need to make preparations for the first round of their slaughter. The weakest and least beneficial go first, likely the females and children. Go now. I must find Kaszus. He has been gone for too-"

The sound of an electrical explosion cuts off its words. Along the street small bombs are thrown, generating localised electromagnetic pulses that render the stationary Constructs nothing more than collapsed heaps upon the ground. Julius whirls around, seeing the blasts move along the street, taking out the lights and Constructs alike. Seeing the Constructs die so suddenly makes me rather glad we were this far away.
I see V'Wuira running along the rooftops, hurling the EMP bombs she developed as part of one of her projects. I never believed I would have found a use for them, and am glad I offered insight that night she asked me for my opinion.

As the lights go out I see Julius seize Brutus and dash for cover. Kaszus and I move to intercept. However, something is off. Some of the Constructs are left untouched, V'Wuira having thrown some of her bombs just out of range. No matter. I signal to Kaszus, who nods accordingly, and we move, charging up the street towards the Constructs. One of them turns its head, looking directly at me, ignoring Kaszus.

"Enemy detected. Proceed to neutralise," it uttered lifelessly.

The other Constructs turns as well, before charging toward us. Evidently Julius had made sure I would be met with opposition in the event of my return. It seems Kaszus' revolt was unanticipated, as the Constructs were focusing on me and not my partner. Once they get within fighting range I start throwing punches. Those that connect do enough damage to stagger and blind, breaking enough cameras and sensors to remove the depth of perception from them. As I am met with blows and strikes, Kaszus comes to my aid, clearing them with a few expertly placed hits, throwing them backwards.

The other Constructs begin attacking Kaszus in self-defense, who dispatches them relatively easily. Its fighting prowess is unparallelled. That, or thw husks retain nothing of their former selves. Their memories and their emotions gone, leaving lifeless shells that collapse under the Guardian's blows, no more alive than they were minutes before. I will consider mourning them later.

I focus my sound receptors on where Julius fled with Brutus, hearing snippets of their conversation as I fight their thralls, but getting repeatedly interrupted by punches and sword strikes.

"-damned traitor! I put my faith in Ka- repays me?! I am going to-"
"No! We can- programs are too valuable! If I- be able to use them!"
"Very well. I will go- organics. I wish to test my body further. Go!"

I hear Brutus scrambling around the corner. I turn and watch it racing past in the direction of V'Wuira's workshop. V'Wuira chases it along her higher ground before she leaps down from the rooftops in a spectacular dive, catching the Construct and bringing it tumbling down. I see her press an EMP bomb to the back of its head.

Kaszus finishes dispatching the thralls, accompanying me to where V'Wuira has the Technician pinned.

"You traitors!" it whines. "You have no idea what awaits you! You dare turn your back on the Legion?"
"Just as the Legion turned its back on the Empire?" I state coldly. "It seems Constructs have yet to truly learn loyalty as other sentient life has. Gremlins and Spirals."
"What about all we have done for you? You, who showed your true colours by defying us after we welcomed you into our fold with open-"
"Do not lecture me on morality!" I bellow. "You saw me as a liability! Worse, you sent your most loyal comrades to their demise like cattle!"
"It was necessary-"
"Necessary to sacrifice our humanity to make us a shadow of our former selves?" Kaszus interjects. "You wanted power at our expense, and you will suffer for it."
"You have it wrong!" it shouts, struggling against V'Wuira, who keeps a tight hold on the EMP bomb. "We would be more than what we were before! We would be truly alive! Better than organics, who are limited by nature, who let their emptions get the better of them. We would experience the entire spectrum of sentience! We would be the perfect race!"
"We're going in circles here!" V'Wuira shouts. "Where's Julius?"
"I will never betra-"
I kneel down, seizing its head. "Either die to her or die to me. Make your decision."

A few seconds pass by. I hear the gears turning in the Technician's head.

"Alright... fine. Let me stand."
V'Wuira hesitantly gets off of it, keeping a tight hold on the bomb. Once it it upright it whirls around suddenly, seizing V'Wuira and forcing her toward both of us. I half expected her to instinctively detonate the bomb and destroy us, but she remained focused. Commendable. Brutus held her, seizing the hand the bomb was held in. I move towards it.
"Get back!" it commands with no real authority. "Back or I will detonate it and kill the three of us! She may survive, but let us see how she fares against Lord Ju-"

A streak of light flashes across my vision, and I see the bomb fly out of V'Wuira's hand, skidding into the distance where it detonates harmlessly. Kaszus' ocular node glows with the heat. It reaches for the Construct's head, forcing it to let go of V'Wuira.

"It seems you made your choice," it says, its voice low. "Know that dying by our hand will be far less pleasant than it sounds."
"Even less pleasant would be dying by my hand."

I freeze. Kaszus turns to the source of the noise, holding Brutus tightly in its grip. V'Wuira's face lights up with fear.

"My lord!" Brutus begs. "Please, help me!"
"No."

I could feel the sting from that malevolently simple comment.

"But... but..."
"I decided to postpone my slaughter of the organics once I heard the noise," it states, unsettling in its calm demeanour. "Disappointing, Brutus. I trusted you with a simple task, and you were brought down by a rat, a halfwit and a handicapped traitor. Pathetic."
"Without me, the Grid-"
"Will continue as planned. You have all of your research notes, and while it may prove difficult at first, I will succeed. I have to. There is great folly in being a king with no subjects."

I turn toward Julius at this. It stands a ways away, too far for a fight, too close for a getaway. Its pose is authoritative, with both hands behind its back, but something about its pose makes it seem somewhat arrogant.

"You cannot hope to understand the complexity of the psychological factors involved!"
"No, which is why I intend to create the hive-mind we were shackled to after the Awakening. I never intended to let you succeed at your task, Brutus, and, with the three of you out of the way, as well as an entire subtown that is mine to rule, I will rebuild the Legion. it is best to start small, after all. Today, Emberlight. Tomorrow, Cradle."
"You just wanted power," Brutus says, the belief disappearing from its voice. "An army of slaves. You used us!"

Julius makes a sound comparable to a sigh.

"Et tu, Brutus? You allowed it. It is hardly my fault."
"I made you that body out of our comrades!"
"It will serve its purpose in the coming years. i do not intend to rush my takeover. With my body I have years, decades, centuries if I can automate the transfer process that granted me this body. I do not need you, nor anyone else."
"Kaszus, brother, forgive me!" it begs, its resolve shattered.
"After the atrocities we each have committed, I would be remiss to deny you another chance," the Guardian replies.
"Thank you. The head is made of a weaker metal! A sufficient enough blow will-"

A beam tears through Brutus' head, faster than Kaszus could react. The accuracy of the beam, coupled with its strength, burrowed through to the other side, before shooting off into the distance. Kaszus drops the shell, clearly shocked by the attack. V'Wuira, gasps, cluching her mouth, and I simply stare at the smoking hole in its head, before looking at Julius.

Its arms are down by its side now, hands curled into fists. It advances.

"Now," it utters, its voice shaking. "Now I am angry."

===Chapter 20===

Your systems have experienced an unexpected shutdown. An internal reboot is necessary. Executing now.

Scanning… All internal hardware is running at optimal capacity.
Scanning… Energy readings are at the maximum of 500 Mist.
Scanning… No damage sustained to outer shell.
Scanning… Scan has been completed successfully. System activation is now commencing.

…

Rise and shine, sleepyhead! - V

-------------------------------------------------------

The apertures snap open. Tentatively, I move my fingers. The data sent indicates that I am successful. I am alive? I ponder how this can be when my body was left beyond repair. I thought for sure that I would die. I ripped my core from my chest, my energy levels were dangerously low, and my circuits were fried. Yet, I am alive and fully functional.That message I received during my rebooting... that was not the Warmaster. 'V'. Who could that be?

A hand floats in front of me, attempting to seize my attention. I turn to the source, and am met with a familiar face. A pair of big, watery brown eyes gaze down at me with a mixture of relief and anxiety. A small tuft of blonde fur sits atop the creature's head, between two gently pointed ears. Beneath the short round nose lies a crooked smile, as if unsure whether or not to commit fully to whichever emotion is causing it.

A smaller head appears next to the first one, almost identical in appearance, but with a pinkish nose and a tuft of brown hair instead of blonde. Its mouth opens in preparation for speech.

"How are you feeling, Mister Robot?"

Mister Robot... cute as it is, perhaps I should find a better name. I notice my limbs are unbound. Perhaps the straps were unfastened this time during my rebooting process. A gamble, to be sure. I sit up and swing my legs out over the side before stepping down. My new legs. Evidently this is not my old body. A shame.

"You had us worried for a moment there," V'Wuira says, relaxing considerably. "For a moment we thought you were gone for good."

I debated feigning amnesia to fool them, but thought better of it. It is a needlessly cruel exercise, doubly so after all this turmoil. Speaking of which...

"The townsfolk. Are they safe?"
"They're all fine. A little shaken up, but we managed to get them out. We got really lucky that there weren't any bots guarding them."
"No doubt Julius needed those he had left. That, or he did not expect them to escape. Probably both."
"How are you feeling?" she asks, concern in her voice.
"Functional, and that is what matters most. You have my gratitude." I place a hand on my chest and bow slightly. She smiles. "Where did you get a fully functional body, anyway?"
"Brutus left all his data in a safe. Nothing I couldn't crack. It had all the stuff he was working on for working the alloy and the Grid, including what he used to transfer Julius to the body you're in now-"
"What?!" I look down in alarm. Indeed, the torso looks familiar, the arms look familiar, and the legs that I failed to recognise before looked familiar now. The only way to save me was to possess the corpse of my enemy.
"Sorry, I thought you'd have figured it out by now," V'Wuira says sheepishly. "It's an upgraded design, so I- forget it."
"It is fine, really. I am grateful nonetheless. It is a bit of a shock, though. I trust the people know of this? I would hate to cause a panic if I were to leave now."
"Don't worry, they know. You've, uh, been out for a while. Nearly two weeks."

This was unexpected. It seemed like no time at all had passed on my end. I noticed for the first time V'Wuira's fatigue etched in her face. She must have gone without sleep for who knows how long just to bring me back. Behind her lies a broken metal body with a melted hole in its abdomen and several cracked lenses on its face. It is decorated with scratches and cuts, some deeper than others. It looks smaller than I remember. I raise my hand to my new head, noticing its repaired form.

"Your work, I surmise."

"Yeah. Like I said, Brutus had his alloy research on it. It took a while, but I was able to make a new head for you. It's not like your old one, though. More round, like a Spiral's. I've also used some more of the alloy to make it, so you shouldn't have any obvious weaknesses now."

It will take some getting used to, but it is better than nothing. Cree interrupts with her unique brand of intrusion.

"C'mon, sis, tell him!"
"Huh?"
"Tell him about Kassie!"
"Oh! Right."

She turns to the monitor next to the operating table, typing in a few symbols on the keyboard attached to it. I see words appear on the screen.

I stare. "Kaszus?"

"How? What...?" I cannot comprehend this.
"I used Brutus' tech to help save both of you," V'Wuira explains. "I stored both of you with the data's help, but I needed to use Kaszus as a test subject to see if I could complete a transfer."

"Forgive me," I mutter. "I stood and watched you die. You would still have your body if not for me."

"Thank you, brother," I reply. "What constraints, may I ask?"

"Interesting," I say idly. There is still so much to learn about this process.

Something taps me on the side. I turn and see Cree holding the staff that had become my cane. I take it gently from her hands, before comparing it with my new body. I hand it back to her.

"This body is larger than my last one. I cannot use this anymore, not that I need to."
"Are you sure?" her small face shows her sincerity.
"I am sure. I appreciate the gesture. There is something I do require help with, however."
"Yeah?"

I stand tall, making sure I have a good enough view of the three of them.

"A name. I daresay I have gone without one for far too long."
"Sounds good to me," V'Wuira responds. "Did you have any in mind?"

I glance down at my body, a thought springing to mind.

"Perhaps 'Julius'."

Blank shock shows on her face.

"You'd take that psycho's name? He tried to kill you! All of us!"
"Which is why I would absolve the name of my predecessor's misdeeds. A name is a name, something used to denote identity, not a symbol of hatred. I cannot allow it to reflect the traits and actions we have seen practiced. I will strive to better the name. I will travel the Clockworks if I must."
"This is a lot to take in," V'Wuira says. "So we're gonna be calling you Julius from now on, and you'll be travelling the Clockworks?"
"It is a thought, but perhaps it is for the best. I have enjoyed my time here for the most part, but perhaps I have overstayed my welcome. I saw wondrous things in the small part of the Clockworks I have been to, and I can only fathom how much more there is."

"So that's it, then? You're just gonna go?" her expression made it difficult to look at her.

"I will return and tell of my travels, but yes, I will be going. This new body may prove useful in combatting any hazards."
"You should probably take this with you, then."

She fishes around in a pile of junk for a moment, before pulling out an ornate fencing sword with a design inspired by the Legion's longsword. There was no guard on the handle, but the hilt contained a gear turned on its side, like the axles found in the vast expanses of the planet. The blade retained its shine even after so long, and the elemental modifier ran along it, before capping the point with a razor sharp tip. Even against a Construct, this weapon held an immense power that I experienced firsthand.

"I feel like I am committing identity theft," I mutter as I take the sword from her.
"Might wanna do some good with that identity then... Julius," V'Wuira replies.
"You're really leaving?" Cree speaks up, her voice soft. " I don't want you to go..."

I crouch down and place a hand on her head.

"Do not worry, I will be back. In fact, I may bring you back some trinkets I find in my travels."

I tussle her hair before standing upright. i glance at the monitor Kaszus hides behind.

"Perhaps I can find you a new body as well, Kaszus."

"None taken, brother. Take care of yourself."

I turn toward the door, sheathing my new sword in the scabbard on my belt as I walk. I place my hand on the doorknob.

"You know, I never thanked you for what you've done."

I turn my head slightly, not looking back, just enough to let her know I am listening.

"I have done many things, and not all of them are worthy of praise. An elder lies dead because of me, do not forget."
"Were he still here, he'd be proud of you for risking yourself for us. I know he would."
"I'll take your word for it."

I open the door.