《Remnants of Scientific Mankind》


 Prologue: The Evacuation

    Once, a long, long time ago, on a desolate stretch of desert on Mars, stood a civilian experimental facility, funded by the Mars government. Humanity had tried to create artificial intelligence, first from the hard-wired "human-brains" envisioned in the 1960''s to Google''s deep servers in the 2010''s, to artificial AIs found commanding ships through the stars. With this experiment came humanity''s first few attempts to create an AI, in order to handle tasks too complicated for humans or simply for sheer laziness and ease of access to things deemed a hassle to do.


    Originally, in the late 1900''s. it was used by the military in order to crack military orders and spy reports, but pretty much everyone had a use for it. Surprisingly, Google still held the upper hand in managing search engines, even though it nearly fell in the late 2100''s with the arrival of its competitor, Janmambe, an African search engine company that started to spring up as a newer way of searching for information on the Web.


    Still, many civilian and military counterparts held aspirations on how to create an AI. Some suggested utilizing computers that could make deeper connections, like Google''s web search service. Others thought of to create a brain-like structure, capable of thinking and speech. Many more considered these ideas to be a folly, opting for different ideas to consider and experiment with. One such experiment was going on on Mars.


    Flashback, 10 thousandyears ago


    <hr>


    In a wide, empty metallic hallway, a rectangular steel frame, was shown in the light. The front side was open, revealing a body inside, a body of dull, gray metal within. It was impossible to tell what the body looked like, since so many yellow clamps held the body in place that it looked like a part of the frame itself. If one was to try and identify it, all they would be able to say was that the frame was "severe overkill".


    As the frame moved forward, white LED lights on the ceiling revealed four people, dressed in white lab coats. These four scientists in white lab coats walked near it, the bald bulky male rolling the frame with a large, plain steel dolly, strong enough to hold the three hundred pounds of metal on it that constituted the frame and the robot. The dark-haired female wrote on a tablet, scribbling on it notes with scrawled handwriting. All four walked forward at a leisure pace.


    The tall, wiry scientist complained to his companions, a male voice a higher octave than one would expect. "Why do you have to carry this robot on an old-fashioned dolly? You know that you had to create the dolly with your own hands!" He grumbled some more. "Not to mention the time wasted creating the dolly. No one uses those anymore. Now why would you do that?! We''re only testing a new mining and construction robot!"


    The burly one simply laughed, a deep chuckle emanating from his mouth. "I like to do things the old-fashioned way. Surely you cannot object to that? And I made sure to secure the robot to the frame. It''ll be alright."


    The small, brown-haired scientist looked at the burly scientist. The person''s complexion would make others unable to identify if this parson was male or female. "Do you know how much time it took to design the robot itself? Not to mention that you placed all the clamps all over it. How do you expect us to get it out to test?"


    The female looked up from her tablet, stopping temporarily from the scribbles to answer the question. "I looked at the design for the frame itself. Don''t worry, it''s all controlled by electromagnetic clamps. The robot can get out of it just fine."


    The wiry one spun around to face the female. "Wait, I thought that Barkley just added the clamps in fifteen minutes before we left. Since when did the clamps make their way into the blueprint?"You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Barkley laughed in a deep baritone, although subdued. "I added the clamps in the blueprint last night. You didn''t bother to check the blueprints before we left, Wade?"


    The wiry one, now identified as Wade, objected to the short scientist''s and the female''s smirk. "Well, I didn''t have the time!" Although he tried to hide his embarrassment, his pale face still turned red, earning him the smirks of all his companions for his attitude. "What are you looking at? Shut up!", he snapped at them, still embarrassed.


    The short scientist finally uttered his thoughts on the matter. "Shut up and keep moving, we don''t have enough time to waste! This facility will soon close down for goodsince the closed fusion reactor is at the end of its life, so I want to at least see if this would work!"


    Suddenly, an explosion, although soft, was accompanied by the slight hiss of gass escaping. The short brown-haired one uttered a curse. "Fuck you, you selfish bitch-whore! Now look at what you done! We were supposed to leave yesterday! Now that you insisted on testing it, this robot won''t ever be tested! Go to the exit!"


    All four rushed to the exit, the one known as Barkley still carrying the frame on the dolly. Although burdened, he was surprisingly fast, fleet-footed enough to catch up to the groupand carry the frame.


    They dashed for the pressure-sealed door in front of them, marked "Airlock" in white letters above the doors. The motion sensors worked at expected, opening the glass-covered doors up and letting everyone, frame and robot included, inside. Then the doors quickly hissed shut. A rumble then shook the hallway, although its cause was unknown. Thankfully, they made it in time, although they were still in danger


    The female marched towards the set of suits at the corner. Designed for Mars, these atmospheric suits were nothing like actual space suits, a plain, white, plastic, tracksuit-like contraption with a backpack-like box on the back, designed for walking on Mars. They have never been used, intended only for emergency escape. Like now. "Quickly, get these on! We have to go outside!"


    No one replied, intent on getting inside their suits. All one had to do was to open the zipper on the metallic neckpiece to the crotch, get inside, zip it all up, and locking the plastic helmet to the neckpiece, and the process was complete. Strangely enough, they did not bother to take off their white lab coats even in this emergency, but instead stuffed it inside with their bodies, still wearing it in the tracksuit.


    Once this was done, Barkley slammed on the big red button on the wall next to the suits. The other set of glass doors opened, the howl of escaping air filling their ears. They quickly ran away from the old complex, the crunch of Martian sand and the harsh breath of themselves filling their ears. The frame and the untested robot was still inside the airlock.


    Five minutes later, the complex blew up with red dust all around, a red nuclear mushroom cloud signaling the end of the fusion reactor. The released gas from inside the compound knocked the frame onto the slope surrounding the complex, slowlysliding down the dust.


    Although it was an experiment, it was made to endure. The frame, before the explosion, covered itself in gray metal entirely, similar in color to that of the robot. This frame was actually a system devised by Barkley to protect the robot from danger, an ingenious mechanical device. And it did its job perfectly. Miraculously, it was upright in the sand. And there it lay, for two million years.


    <hr>


    Ten thousandyears later


    Over the course of ten thousand years, the sand has battered on the frame of the robot. The once-shining frame was reduced to scratched, gray metal. The mechanical ingenuity of Barkley could no longer keep the sand outside, as the sand eventually filled the frame, seeped into the joints of the robot and the frame itself. Buried inside the deep, red sand of Martian soil, an anomaly was forming. It was unknowingly created from old experiments in the Martian complex, which started to break down or act up. Although humanity was too scared to conduct tears in space-time, their remnants ironically did. The invisible anomaly formed on the rectangular frame and the robot. Itsuddenly turned into a vacuumof gravity, turning into a singularity. It ate away at everything, as well as the robot and the frame, including the sand around it. The vacuumthen tore a small hole in space-time, wide enough to barely fit the frame and its occupant. Then both the frame and the occupant disappeared into the tear, and the fabric of space-time repaired itself.


    The destinations? A world of magic and demonscalled Al''Alrith.

 AlArith: History and Characterisitcs

    Circling around a star in the far reaches of a galaxy, around a young, yellow star, a planet called "Al''Arith" by its inhabitants is shown in all of its green and blue beauty. But if one would look at the planet from space, one would be able to tell that something about the planet was odd.


    Al''Arith could be considered something of an anomaly, even among the multiple dimensions and universes in the multiverse. Born from the ashes of multiple Earth-sized planet collisions millions of years before Earth formed, Al''Arith had a mass of three times that of its comparison. This planet also travels in a binary orbit with a moon of similar size and mass, causing constant flooding, rain, thunderstorms, and other weather-based anomalies from the moon''s gravitational pull. Due to its age, Al''Arith actually has a lower core temperature than Earth. This causes a thicker formation of solid crust on the planet, which also allows an abundance of metal to sit beneath the ground.


    Normally, a planet of this size would also experience an increase in its gravitational force on the ground, due to its size and composition. Yet the gravity of Al''Arith was similar, if not the same, as of Earth, even though it is three times the size and mass of Earth. Its closer proximity to its sun also meant that it was constantly bombarded with significant amounts of radiation, as it was so close to the sun that Al''Arith''s gravitational field did not reflect as much solar radiation as one would expect. A person from Earth, as soon as they land on Al''Arith, would immediately be assaulted with as much radiation as standing right next to an unprotected nuclear reactor. This person would die within days, if not in 24 hours, due to the exposure, regardless of any medical treatment they receive.


    Despite the hectic conditions of Al''Arith, life flourished on the planet. Flora and fauna can be found virtually everywhere, even growing off of glaciers and hanging in volcanoes, impervious to the lava that boiled beneath or the ice that froze the water in the atmosphere. Animals scurried around the tall trees of forests, and in the deep, dark tunnels of the underground.


    Life here had evolved a little bit slower compared to Earth, contrary to the belief in the 60''s that high amounts of radiation would induce faster evolution. From microbes in the sea to the humanoids of the planet, all shared a similar characteristic: the use of radiation in the atmosphere, called "mana" to the sentient beings.


    "Mana" in this world was actually the background radiation in the planet''s atmosphere, which was absorbed into the vascular system of organisms and stored in said organism''s body in small sections of "bulbs" spread evenly around in the nervous system of animals (even in the case of plants, which evolved a rudimentary nervous system in order to absorb and use this mana). Its original purpose was to minimize the amount of radiation that a living body would experience, in order to reduce medical problems (i.e., cancer, radiation sickness, nausea, etc.). These "bulbs" are actually organs collectively known as the "mana pools" of people, and convert the radiation into a highly reactive chemical that would form a chemical reaction upon very specific conditions, an evolutionary trait to prevent animals and plants alike from spontaneously exploding in a ball of fire or zapping everything, including itself, in a flurry of lightning.


    Genetics and environmental conditions actually play a large role in the absorption and capacity of mana pools. Radiation from the sun created large amounts of heavy metals in the crust, which would also create radiation in the form of beta and gamma rays (of course, this was nothing compared to the radiation of the sun). This is why Al''Arith''s inhabitants have noticed larger mana pools or higher rates of mana absorption in animals and plants deep beneath the crust, and on the high, unprotected ledges of mountains and deserts - the radiation was at such a high level at these places that normal life, even on Al''Arith, would struggle to absorb and utilize this mana.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    This planet was also covered by a three to one ratio of sea to land, again a similarity to Earth. But the planet actually had significantly larger tectonic plates than Earth, due to the relatively lower temperatures of the planet''s core. The lower temperatures of the planet''s core also meant lower chances of volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, earthquakes, and other tectonic-related disasters, because the magma of the planet moves at a slower speed. This also has the consequence of reducing related disaster''s impact on the environment. The most devastating attack on the environment would be a fifty-foot tsunami or a normal volcanic explosion, not a supervolcanic explosion like what happened on Earth, which nearly wiped out all life on the planet.


    Al''Arith''s sentient inhabitants do not differ from those in Western and Eastern fantasies. Dragons, elves, pixies, dwarves, and other humanoids or sentient creatures (such as dragons or kitsunes) exist on Al''Arith. Regardless of their characteristics, all have created their own cultures and languages, ranging from tribes, simple vocal languages, and the creature''s own natural instincts and squeaks or grunts, to flowing languages, democracies, kingdoms, and empires. The large size of inhabitable space on this planet has allowed these races to have enough space to live on comfortably, thereby taking away the severe racism and discrimination often associated with the lack of living space, such as the "white supremacy" of Earth.


    In this world, both sanitation, medicine, and generally science stand out in history. Through the advancement of medicine and science, sanitation has increased to Earth''s modern proportion, with people taking baths and going to bathrooms about every day, which is all flushed down into sewer systems. (It should be noted that water is needed to be carried to the toilets and baths from wells and pumps). Medicine has advanced to the point of the 70''s, with chemotherapy and modern medicine being the preferred choice of treatment. Of course, mana users would also specialize in healing, but only to the degree where basic broken bones, fractures, torn tendons, and the like can be healed. Magic cannot heal infections and diseases, which is best left to medicine.


    It should be noted that this does not stop these races from waging war. War had been waged between different races, kingdoms, countries, and even internal factions; Al''Alrith''s history is covered in the blood, gore, and viscera of the fallen. Mana has turned warfare into a combination of ranged and close combat warfare. Mana users can target armies and troops from a range of up to ten miles, and bombard them with spells and enchanted items, but close combat troops could simply weather the attack and crush the mana users with ease. Thus, an army would need to equalize its use of speed, attack, defense, and strategy in order to defeat the opponent. People with large amounts of mana are rare, about one in ten thousand, and even then, they may or may not be specialized in the use of combat magic. People then turned to other forms of long-range weaponry. For those with little to no mana pools, long-range weapons are also available without using mana, ranging from bows and arrows to simple rocket and explosion-propelled weapons like unguided tubes of fuel (which would create a high-speed kinetic missile), which do not need mana at all. At Al''Arith''s current state, all races have stopped their expansion after ten years, and are now in the process of inhabiting their territories, keeping buffer zones and no man''s lands between country borders to prevent invasions. Of course, these areas also serve as havens for criminals and mercenaries, since this area is lawless, spreading crime around the surrounding regions.


    And the old robot, a remnant of humanity''s scientific experiments and achievements, would be landing in a small country of Kesiah, a small kingdom of a majority of mixed races, on a wooded forest in the seclusion of a mountain. Alone and broken.

 Chapter 1: Arrival on AlArith

    Within the mountainous regions on one of Al''Arith''s continents was the small, multi-race kingdom of Kesiah, with citizens from dragon-newts to goblins, orcs, humans, dwarves, elves, and even dragons themselves. Created from the resultsof the previous war on the planet, it was considered as a sort of backwater kingdom, away from the politics and strife of the central continent. This kingdom was a rather peculiar place to people in the central continent. Declared as a "kingdom", it was actually a place of near demcoracy.


    The Royal family is in a position akin to a Prime Minister, which ruled for life. A parliament underneath the King handled the day-to-day rulings of this country, while the King and his advisors handled more important matters, such as military affairs and major projects and requests. As a safeguard against the King''s potential tyrrany, common soldiers could also appeal to the Parliament or protest peacefully. The Parliament, as known to outsiders, was composed of two "houses", or official factions: the "Nobles" and the "Commoners". No fancy titles are attached, for ease of use. Both held equal amounts of power, creating a balancing act. If the Nobles wanted a coup, they would have to wade through the hordes of Commoners wanting to murder them, and the Royal family too. Conversely, if the Commoners wanted to stage a coup, they would be mowed down by the powerful Nobles and their personal armies, as well as the Royal family. If the Royal family wanted a coup, they would get swarmed by both the Nobles and Commoners. This balance was never upset, because thecountry was small, and had to deal with the lawless no man''s lands and buffer zones around it, which kept crime flooding into their country, even though the neighboring coutnries were allied with them with multiple overlapping alliances. Additionally, if a coup killed enough people, the people behind the coup would lose their will to fight, stopping it in its tracks. People in the Parliament are elected, with the King being descended from the Royal family, regardless of gender.


    The country''s small size meant that it had to keep a powerful military force and a permanent police force. The Nobles act as investigators, while the Commoners have an organized police force to keep order, with the Nobles assisting them on investigations. The Royal family keeps a military force to deal with powerful bandits and invaders, as well as dealing with problematic invasions from the mountains by the mountain less-intelligent creatures, such as orcs and goblins. (Although Orcs and Goblins do have their own territories, which are officially regarded as individual countries, their stupider bretheren cannot form languages, only squeaks, and grunts, thus they are considered animals by everyone else, even by the other orcs and goblins).


    Kesiah, in order to appease its multi-racial citizens, created a law that stated that any discrimination of any kind was not allowed, including slavery (which was illegal and highly despised), indentured servitude (which was also despised), racism (also despised), and stereotypes (highly frowned upon by everybody, especially Nobles and the Royal family). It also created specific clauses of citizenship, which are:


    1. You must be able to speak and listen to a language outside of "animalistic langauge" (ex: squeaks, grunts, etc.) that had syllables. Even one word of a language, or simply parroting a word back, would work.


    2. You must renounce your citizenship with any other coutnry. Countries with friendly relations not withstanding.


    3. You must live in this country for five years, and swear to uphold and obey the law of this country (if citizens consider a law discriminatory or objectionable, they lodge complaints with the Parlaiment or one with a government position)


    Kesiah''s eocnomy is actually relatively balanced. Due to the nature of buffer zones and no man''s lands, trading is usually restricted to internal trade, with the exception of large merchant caravans, which are so heavily armed that they could rival a large army''s military might, in roder to fend off bandits and other dangers present. Kesiah is centered in the multiple interconnecting valleys of the Locust mountain range, named for its hot summers and cold winters, and because the interconnecting valleys that span the mountain range look like a locust in mid-flight. These valleys are fertile enough to grow a large variety of livestock and produce, ranging from rice and wheat to special mountainous lviestock and orchard of various kinds. The mountainous regions surrounding the valleys ahve been hollowed out and turned into cities, relying on the lcoal population of dwarves and mining goblins to do the job. Kesiah has no lack of metal, as the nearby mountains are rich enough tosupply Kesiah with a nearly inexhuastible amount. As a side effect, Kesiah also uses reinforced brick buildings in nearly every building possible, with rebar-reinforced bricks being a constructional standard. But the lack of an easily accessible food supply left much of the country uninhabited (except for dragons, who prefer the seclusion, and the forest elves, who live in the forests).


    It just so happened that the robot and its frame landed in one of Kesiah''s forests, one rearely inhabited by the sentient races.


    <hr>


    In the dark, green, deciduous forests of Kirsah, a large clearing could be found, filled with the swaying green grasses. No animal could be seen in the tall trees or in the grass, but the occassional rustle and the tuneful call of birds belied that this forest was full of life. But in the center of this clearing was a patch of ground, exactly in the shape of a box, even though there was nothing on it. The natural vitality of Al''Arith''s living flora and fauna would mean that this site would immediately be filled to the brim with green, swaying grass. But the grass grew only to a certain point and then did nto bother to grow into the box-shaped center of the clearing, which was completely barren. The animals realized that something about this clearing was abnormal, which is why they stayed away from it. They dectected a highly abnormal colelction of mana at the box-shaped part of earth, hovering in the air as a comressed shpere of transparent mana, looking like a ball of heated air, shimmering in the light of the bright sun.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    This collection of mana has been steadingly compressed by nature into a small sphere about the size of a cellwhen it suddenly gained anough power to tear through the fabric of reality as a sphere. This tear could not be seen by anyone nor felt by anyone - tearing through the fabric of reality, or space-time, meant that light and matter itself would avoid the tear, including mana. The only thing that the animals could tell was that the dense sphere of mana suddenly vanished.


    As soon as the mana sphere vanished, a dull gray rectangular box appeared out of existence, landing directly on the square patch of brown earth, as if it was always there. This steel, rectangular box has obviously seen much better days - the oustide dull and scratched, not longer shiny and smooth. Red sand and dust appeared to have caked the outside and seeped into the inside of the box through the cracks of the front side. Only the top of the box was uncovered with sand, because of the solar panel on the top. This solar panel was coated by Barkley with an especially slick substance, in order to prevent the dust of Mars or any particles of its supposed working space from caking the solar panel, which would cause problems with the recharging rate of the robot''s power supply and eventually leave its batteries dry.


    Solar panels work by capturing radiation in the form of light and converting it into electricity through the use of silicon and other conductive metals, which is then conducted by copper wires into whatever battery or electronic device it powers. Additionally, variations of solar panels are also used to capture different forms of heat and radiation as an alternative to past water and salt-based generators, which required the use of fans and generators to convert mechanical energy into electricity, both unwieldy and inefficient. The solar panel, upon reaching this dimension, caught both the light of the Sun and the extreme radiation of the planet, powering up the most basic functions of the frame - the battery indicator of the connected robot, how fast the battery charged up, and determining if it had enough power to release the hatches of the frame, the robot''s clamps, and booting up the robot.


    [/Power dectected. Batteries at 0.01%. External power source found. Redirecting power to "Robot Battery"]


    [/ETA to minimal release requirements: 4 days, 3 hours, 1 minute, and 0 seconds]


    [/Entering power saving mode...]


    It ocassionally came out of its power-saving mode to check up on the requirements for releasing the robot once every hour.


    Four days later, it determined that the robot has achieved minimal requirements to boot up.


    [/Exiting power saving mode...]


    [/Time: ERROR. Time function compromised. Power failure detected.]


    [/Sufficient power requirements met for minimal release requirements]


    [/Starting release procedure...]


    [/Beginning diagnostics...]


    [/WARNING: Pressure seal has been compromised. Contamination dectected. Door pneumatics at 10%, clamps at 50% durability. Overall damage dectected.]


    [/Diagnostics meet minimal requiremetns for operation.]


    [/Starting pressure release...]


    HISSS.


    A mechanical hiss oculd be heard as the millions-year old frame opened about an inch per side of the double doors of the frame, spilling clouds of red dust and sand onto the ground. A humanoid body made out of metal was revealed fro mteh fractions of light that penetrated inside, scratched a badly as the frame that covered it. The electromagnetic clamps still held it in place, but they have lost all of their yellow paint.


    [/Pressure release finished...]


    [/Disengaging clamps...]


    Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.


    Each of the electromagnetic clamps slowly released their magnetic hold in the robot''s frame one bo one. Due to the sheer amount of clamps, this took about five minutes to complete, even with the clamps disengaging at a rate of one per ten second, due to their age and damage. Barkley really went overkill on the clamps.


    [/Clamps disengaged.]


    All that was left was to disconnect the power cord on the robot''s back on the base of the beck, which was connected to the robot''s internal power supply. This black, rubber power cable had the diameter of about two inches, and was used to inject high voltages of electricity into the robot to speed up the robot''s recharge rate. This cable sent a short pulse of eelctricity to the robot''s CPU, and then disengaged, before the doors of the frame opened up to its maximum and revealed the robot''s appearance to the world.


    [/Booting up robot sytems.]


    [/Disengaging power cable...]


    [/Power cable disengaged.]


    [/Opening frame doors...]


    The door frames slowly creaked open, showing their age and finally releasing the robot to the world beyond. The robot''s originally spectacular appearance was marred by the thousandsof years that it spend in Mars. It had four arms on its shoulders, two on each side. The arms on the side folded onto each other to create a smingular, stronger arm. It four legs (two on each side like its pelvis) also folded into each other, creating a bidpedal appearance. Its once polished armor was now covered in a thin layer of red dust, except where the clamps attached itself to the surface. The robot twitched, sending dust cascading from its covering and out of its joints.


    Its head released its covers, splitting vertically along the "face" that it had. More dust cascaded out from under the covering. The pistons on the side of the coverings slid the covering onto the back of its head agonizingly slowly. Its eyes on its "face" were nothing more than two sets of glowing LED lihgts on a humanoid face made out of gray metal similar to its outer covering (or armor), now scratched and filled with red dust, which Barkley put on in order to make it more humalike. The robot initiated its own boot sequence, and its pair of blue LED light "eyes" (set into a circle onto an "eyeball", complete with syncronization) flickered on into existence, with some of them not turning on at all.It looked like something out of a futuristic horror movie that got out a scrapyard, which it did. The scrapyard called Mars, where it laid for thousandsof years.


    [/Starting boot sequence...]

 Chapter 2: Gaining Sentience with Awareness at Stake

    [/Boot sequence initiated.]


    The robot''s frame shuddered as a series of fans started up, sputtering out dust, before slowly roaring to a quiet crescendo. The robot''s damaged sensors arrays, consisting of microphones, cameras, gravitational sensors, and other sensors also slowly came alive. Sparks jumped out of the compromised covering as electricity sparked across the dust, damaging a series of circuits, sensors, and motherboards across the body, but not enough to stop the robot''s boot sequence. The sparking of the robot lasted another five seconds before the fans pushed out most of the red dust out of its internal systems, before continuing its long and lengthy boot, checking for storage spaces, power feed, and running basic balance and motion systems.


    The robot''s eyes flashed once again, and a loud mechanical sound rangthrough the silent forest, signaling the completion of its long boot sequence.


    BEEP.


    [/Boot sequence complete. Auxiliary program "Sentience" found. "Sentience" program holds top priority.]


    [/Running "Sentience" Program...]


    After it started running the program, it suddenly experienced a heavy load on its CPU. Fans straining, the program allowed the robot to process stimuli differently, at the cost of the robot''s reaction speed. At about this time, the cameras on its face booted up. The first thing it saw out of its hazy, sputtering vision was the green clearingand the surroundings of the frame.The robot, now fully booted, tried to test its systems by slowly rotating its neck motors and looking for sensor readouts, then found out that it couldn''t when its line of sight didn''t change, and when the thermal and gravitational sensors gave errors. Only its robust visual, basic hearing, and pressure sensors worked. Its first emotion was confusion, as although its time function was compromised and reset, its creators, including a man named Barkley, gave it the gift of near-human sentience, emotions, and intelligence, truly a first dangerous experiment of its kind, yet one that most humans were dying to test out. To avoid budget problems, the team decided to hook up the module to another project they were working on: the new expirimental mining robot. It voiced its first thoughts in its head.


    According to my memories, I was created and was supposed to be tested. Did the creators forget to do something to me?


    The robot tried to move again, this time with much greater effort. This was welcomed with a grating sound, the pouring of red dust out of its joints, and the shriek of metal and unlubricated parts.


    I''m pretty sure that red dust is not supposed to leak out of me.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The robot reviewed its log, or memories, in its head. The scientists that created it decided to go all out on the robot, giving it logs of its creation, its blueprint, and design process, and even videos of its creation, much to its amusement. They also gave a run-down on humanity''s scientific achievements, mathematics, history, basic philosophy, languages, and scientific knowledge to the robot, hoping to test the robot''s reactions and analysis as an indication of its train of thought as a test. After sifting through its jumble of memories, the robot concluded that there should be no red dust coming out of its body.


    This is bad, but I can''t fix it right now. I wonder if I can move?


    The robot took one step out of the frame and fell onto the grass, picking itself up and stumbling slowly like a toddler learning how to walk. An accurate analogy, since he had never tried to walk before. It picked itself up slowly, wincing before it came to a realization itcould show emotions. It tried smiling, then frowning, and finally a confused face, while feeling around with its stiff limbs to touch its face, feeling the scratched metal and the dust on its fingers.


    A welcome idea, but now''s not the time for that.


    It carefully took its time to walk around the clearing, before setting its eyes onto a large, clear puddle, and seeing a scratched humanoid made out of metal, its metal body covered in red dust and pockets of shiny, unscratched armor.


    It wasn''t scared, though, since it knew that the reflection was itself reflected on the surface of the puddle. It stepped closer to it, careful not to fall into it. Since its pressure seals were compromised, it did not want to fall into the puddle. The robot shuddered. It did not want to think what would be worse, its own self-electrocution and possibly death, or the possible pain that it would feel.


    On a side note, the robot noticed that it had no breasts on its scratched, patchy armor, so the robot decided that it would call itself a male and refer to itself as "he", even though it was genderless. It found itodd that its creators were not of one gender, but did so as a tribute to its creators, wherever they were.


    The robot noticed a drop of water pass by, and looked up. Somehow, even though it was sunny and clear only a minute before, dark, heavy rain clouds enveloped the sky by the time he noticed, signaling rain. The robot realized how damaged it actually was. With most of its sensors offline, limbs damaged to an unknown extent, and pressure seals compromised, it was in a very dangerous situation. Judging by the puddle, the robot assumed that it rained very recently. And the rain could be as bad as falling in the puddle.


    Anything could kill me at this point, it judged.I''m as helpless, if not evenmore helpless, than a newborn human baby. Better jump back into the charging frame.


    With much difficulty, the robot staggered back to the frame and into its original position, hooking up the power cable back to its neck manually, and forced the doors closed to protect itself from the upcoming rain. He decided to enter sleep mode, because it would speed up the charging process and would prevent him from draining his battery fully. The Sentience program really took a lot out of his power supply.


    Oh well, time to hibernate, I suppose.


    [/Onboard battery at 8% charge.]


    [/"Sentience" program is now changed to "Self-Awareness" program.]


    [/Entering sleepmode. Exiting sleepmode in twelve hours.]

 Chapter 3: First Contact, a Meaningful Distraction and a Flaming Alchemist for Lunch

    The chittering and cries of the hidden animals filled the surroundings as a group of people trekked along a small forest path in the shade of the towering trees. The clank of boots and the rustle of cloth and leather accompanied every step taken, and once in a while, a dull gleam was seen on the head of one of the humanoid''s heads.


    All of the four in this party held a sort of weapon. A typical adventuring party, if you somehow overlooked the fact that all of them looked like they were taken out of different time periods of Earth and mashed them together in a group, with clashingsenses of fashion and their seemingly unending amounts of talking. A short, somewhat bulky person carried a double-barreled shotgun on their backand wore a leather vest, filled with small pockets containing bits of metal, tools, and other types of small objects. Including shotgun shells. A hammer with a large, rectangular head on the person''s side was sheathed in a utilitarian matter, showing that this person was used to fights and ambushes along the trip. He was loud and held a dwarvish brown beard and medium hair as he argued with the rest of his group.


    For one female, there was a staff that was mottled with a series of pipes on one end, waving in the air as she tapped the staff onto the ground with the beat of her steps. For some reason that none of the other party members knew, the staff also had a small battery and a speaker on the side. A brass metal plate was placed on top of the pipes, making it look like a steampunk version of a club or a party speaker. No one really knew its use, as the person never fought in battles before. Her short, lean body was covered in a set of light leather armor, leavingnothing exposed to the environment. A curious design to her brown leather belt was her iconic feature - a series of intertwining gears, brass leaves, and a human heart adorned on her waist. On her chest was slapped a white sticker that read "I am Angela". She walked with a maniacal grin as she looked into the forest with her wild blueeyes for a target to shoot at.


    A tall, lanky brown-haired individual stood out of the group, looking aroundthe forest in search of whatever he was searching for. A series of thick vials stood out on his body, held in place by straps on his green scaled armor and covering virtually every inch of his body, on his thighs, upper arms, lower arms, chest, abdomen, and even on his calves. Each of the countless vials had different varieties of colors, from a liquid of deep electric blue to a blood-red gel, to shimmering amounts of violet gas. On the young man''s shoulders was a leather backpack, with empty vials sticking out. His eyes looked bored as they skimmed across the forest landscape, but contained a sense of quiet urgency. He needed no weapons - his vials of liquids were enough. This did not stop him from joining in the conversation, though, as his face was lit up in excitement while he was talking.


    A person in gray, metallic armor led the party as they jabbered their way across the forest. Creases lined his face as he debated with the other group, and a series of light, small scars crisscrossed his face in the light of the sun and in the darkness of the forest shadows. Hints of leather could be seen under the metal armor, but everything except his face was covered. He let out a groan and covered his face.


    A common characteristic of these people was their vigilance, their clothing (which was made to be both stylish and practical but fitted only in a city), and their loud talking. At this point, the man in front let out a groan and covered his face.


    "Why, oh why, did you want to walk all the way out here? Did you just want to fuck around again, or did we actually have a reason to do so?!" He flung his hands in the air wildly, trying to claw whatever he wanted to claw out of the air.


    "Dannerth, ofcourse we have a reason to do so! We gotta shoot some o'' them orcs and goblins for dem moneyz!" She tried to imitate a goblin halfway through her last sentence, and everyone, except the angry man, laughed their asses off.


    "Dude, of course we have a reason to go out to here!" the man covered in vials said. His eyes glittered in greed. "But not for money, so sorry, Angela." Angela pouted. but everyone ignored it. "Recently, there''s been a group of goblins and orcs in the woods. Boss in the adventurer''s guild wanted us to investigate why they''re not killing each other right now. Even though we''re not killing them off, we still get a fair amount of coins off of this quest!"


    "Fuck off,Vial Man." The dwarf finally snapped. Everyone except the supposed "Vial Man" now sniggered, to the said person''s disappointment. "You can make money by selling off your potions and vials." He jerked his thumb, pointing to everyone else, including himself, but not Vial Man. "We can''t. So this time, you''re getting nothing."


    Vial Man''s face got even gloomier. "But my name''s Charles..." he muttered. "Why doesn''t anyone call me by my real name? Especially you, Gadruk! And stop calling me ''Vial Man''! I hate that name!" He pouted.


    Angela sniggered. "Names aren''t created byyou, stupid. It''s by other people. You''re 16 only, so you don''t know, but keep that in your mind with all the other potion recipes." Even though she had a short stature, she somehow managed to reach up to flick Charles'' head.


    "Ow!" Charles then held onto the flicked area with tears in his eyes. Everyone laughed once again.


    "Baby", muttered Dannerth.


    All of a sudden, they heard a rustle in the grass. Too big for a small animal, but too small for a human. "Goblins", hissed Dannerth. "Everybody stay down." The group rushed into the grass on the side of the path and slowly crept up to the noise.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Five minutes of tension, nervousness, and silence, accompanied with beating hearts and heavy breaths, heavy footsteps, and lots of muttered curses, led them to a small clearing, devoid of any animals in the trees or on the ground. What it did lead to was a large group of orcs and goblins.


    Orcs and goblins, although commonly stereotyped, are actually some of the most intelligent and crafty beings, second to dragons (who spend their time hoarding and learning over their long lifespans) and some elves (who also learn a lot during their long lifespan). Orcs are known for their brute strength; goblins for their dexterity and agility. The only drawback would be their bad hearing, which is made up for with their excellent sense of smell. They could smell a scent miles away and track it to its owner. Unfortunately, this stereotype results from their less intelligent and more numerous brethren in the wild. These gray, hulking orcs and small, green, feral goblins wore only a loincloth (or a strip around the chest, too, if they were female) made out of dead prey. Not their skins, but the prey that they would eat later in the day if they were hungry. They wandered about the grass-covered clearing, attracted to something.


    The object they were attracted around was a rectangular gray slab of metal, marred and scratched by red dust that coated its sides, except for its top, on which was a reflective surface of dark blue. A pile of red dust laid at its feet. Other than this, its details were unable to be discerned from the distance the party was at.


    Now that they finished observing, they needed a plan.


    "Dannerth, why don''t you cause a distraction? You''re the tough guy with all the muscles and armor." Angela joked.


    Gadruk chuckled. "Nah, not flashy enough. How about... setting someone on fire?" It was meant as a joke, but for some reason, it caught on. Dannerth, Angela, and Gadruk simultaneously looked at Charles. In Cherles'' eyes, it was Satan''s face plastered on all of their bodies. He paled.


    "Say, Charles..." An evil grin appeared on Dannerth''s scarred face. "Where''s the flammable liquid you used two days ago?"


    Charles stuttered under the aura the three gave out. "Th-The clear gel vial on my chest... Wh-wh-why?"


    Without another word, and faster than a blink, Gadruck held onto Charles by the arm, so he wouldn''t get away. Dannerth, on the other hand, took the vial from Charles'' chest strap and quickly doused his hair with the vial''s contents. Taking a cue, Angela grabbed her staff and pointed the metal plate toward Charles'' soaked hair, while activating the staff. A spark of lightning erupted, setting Charles'' hair aflame.


    Horrified, Charles ran out of grass, screaming, while trying desperately to beat out the fire on his head. Still trying to beat out the fire, he ran around in circles in the clearing, in full view of the orcs and goblins.


    One minute the orcs and goblins were in the clearing, admiring the new metal structure that appeared in the middle. Although openly hostile to each other (with small skirmishes being common), they all gathered here in peace to enjoy the new metal structure, lazing around the clearing in groups. The next, they heard a zap and a scream, followed by one frantic human wearing strange leather clothes and strange piecces of clear rock, filled with different liquids. Surprisingly enough, the man''s head was covered in flames, and he ran around the clearing, trying to beat out the fire on his head. Initially, the orcs and goblins were confused. Their simple brains could not comprehend why such an odd creature was running around. With fire on its head to boot.


    But the slight scent of burning meat led all of them to realize what was in front of them: fresh, cooked food. These primitive beings could not make fires of their own, but are smart enough to recognize that cooked food is better than raw food, similar to how monkeys would eat steak when given the choice of eating cooked steak and raw meat.To them, he was easy prey, and not something hard to find, either. Follow the flaming prey. The orcs and goblins, after seeing Charles, started running after him. All they had to do was follow the screaming man with flame in his hair. It was so easy that even the dumbest of these beasts could do it.Gadruk chuckled. "Nowthere''s our distraction."


    A scant three minutes later, the green clearing was again devoid of animals. Listening for the orcs and goblins, Dannerth nodded his head. It was clear.


    They quickly ran to the metal monument in the clearing, stopping only when they were only a few stepsin front of it.


    Curious Angela arrived first. She looked at the object carefully. Being the impulsive one of the group, she tapped at it with the butt of the staff. Dannerth and Garduk froze in fear. expecting something to happen. When it didn''t do anything, they sighed in relief, but still put up their guard. The three approached warily, with caution. Such objects that laid out in the open had some sort of trap function, or were prisons of horrible abominations, locked away to keep the world from descending into chaos and destruction. The last time such an obvious object was opened it took the entire alliance''s armies to kill it, wounding the neighboring country''s King and killing off most who fought it, mana users, footsoldiers, or anyone in its path or attention. It left an entire radius of 100 miles near it covered in the blood and entrails of those who went after it, even splattering the nearby cliffs with bits of the dead.


    But the lure of an adventurer''s curiosity, and the logic behind the casket, kept them pushing forward. For one, even though they were right in front of it, nothing happened. For another, its clear age meant that even if therewas a monster inside, it woudl be old and weak. Simply because monsters exist doesn''t mean that they won''t feel the pains of old age.


    The metal object, on closer inspection, was actually closer to a casket than a monument. With exception of the roof, the dented, scratched metal on the outside was coated in some kind of fine red dust that pooled onto the ground. The roof seemed to be created of some sort of dark blue crystal, inlaid with some golden linear lines of metal, and covered in some sort of coating. The roof seemed to be brand new; not a single scratch on its surface could be seen. Facing one end of the clearing was a set of strange double doors, aparrently the only way in or out of the metallic box.


    "So, what''s the plan?" Gadruk asked to his companions. Both of them shrugged. Dannerth sat down in front of the casket, with Gadruk and Angela following suit.


    "Dunno. Guess we wait until Flaming Torch over yonder gets back to us." Angela points to where Charles was last seen. The three chuckled at the new nickname. Boy, oh boy, wouldthat be a new thing to tell to others.

 Chapter 4: Meeting the Old Bat, Mishaps, and the Monster

    An unknown amount of time passed before Flaming Boy came back. His usual appearance was now covered in the ash of his hair, while what''s left of his hair was black with burnt material. A few of his vials were missing from his chests and arms, and his boots were splattered with mud, but he was otherwise unharmed. He was fuming so hard that it seemed that all of the blood vessels in his head were about to burst.


    "What the fuck was that?! You whore-bitches, and you, the laughing scoundrel in the back! How dare you use me as bait! I had to lose them in a river! I could have been injured, or worse, eaten! I COULD HAVE DIED!!!" Charles wailed. The targeted audience did not care, as they were still laughing their ass off about their latest prank on Charles. This only pissed him off further, as he turned to Dannerth. "And why did you have to pour that oil on me! If being bait wasn''t enough, I lost almostallof my hair!" He showed them the remains of his hair. Nearly all of it was burnt off, leaving him with the dirtiest, most ragged crew cut they have ever seen. It only made them laugh harder, until they almost couldn''t breathe.


    Charles scowled, and then his face transformed into a smug grin.


    "Well, guess what''s the price of your joke?Your monetary rewards!" He cackled like a madman. Adventuring guilds had rules that said that if one of the adventurers were intentionally put in danger, the quest rewards would automatically go the victim.


    This crushed their mood. All three of them spent their money like water. Those words that left his mouth sounded like a death sentence to them. They sadly waved goodbye to their next reward, and collectively muttered under their breath in depression and started drawing circles in the grass.


    "My beer..."


    "My inventions.."


    "My lovely forge!" wailed Gadruk. This only made Charle''s smile wider, and a cackle escaped unbidden from his lips.


    After apologizing to Charles for their "prank", the four went to a local town to rent a sturdy wooden wagon, a dolly, and a team of horses to retrieve the casket found in the clearing, going by the same forest path that they originally used. With a bit of muscle and teamwork (with Charles pretty much doing nothing and the rest lifting it as part of their punishment), they managed to get the casket up on the wagon. The wagon creaked, but held. And the four made their way to the capital of the Kesiah kingdom, Ia''Annerth, to get the artifact inspected.


    <hr>


    Ia''Annerth had a curious history to it. The capital of Kesiah, it held a large amount of Kesiah''s population at its core. Built on the prime location of a valley and next to the mountain face, the capital was part mountain city and part plains city. The size of the population and the city''s small amount of land forced many to carve into the mountains for living space. Most citizenslived in dwellings carved into the mountain, connected by a criss-cross of alleys and streets, both large and small, created in a cave that had a ceiling of dozens of feet high. A "small" alley would be the size of a large alleyway; the largest, as wide as an eight-lane highway. All of the mountain dwellings were created out of wood and are carved on the basis of "levels"; the bottom being small, poor shops and slums, apart from the highway, which ran all the way to the top. Each level is conencted with numerous ramps and stairs, to make transport easier. As one went up, level by level, the wealth of the properties grew, until the people reached the nobles and the palace on top. Airflow was established by using subterranean plant life and light was created by glowing moss and crude electrical lightbulbs.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    The four went with their rented wagon to a dirty, run-down, two-story residence in the slums, on the third floor of the mountain city of Ia''Annerth. The driver, Dannerth, jumped off the covered wagon, stretched, and led the horses to the stable adjacent to the residence. The other three got off and stretched, too, with Charles knocking on the residence door, a thick door made out of banded metal and wood. They had been tense on the way here, wary of bandits and other lowlife scum. Thankfully, their way was almost clear of people, save for the friendly stable manager who rented them the horse and wagon.


    "It''s me, Charles! We want you to look at somethign we found, old geezer!"


    A sound of padded steps, locks opening, and a bark accompanied it. "Well, why didn''t you say so! Come right on in!"


    The door opened to let the four see a disaster on the inside. Machinery, ingredients, gears, and other bits and bobs were spread around the wood tables in the residence, each laden to the brim and spread all aroudn the tables'' surface, revealed by the fire of the crackling wood fireplace at the back. The open door also let them see the culprit of this mess: a wizened old human in a dirty lab coat, black pants, and slippers. The group could see the glint of madness in his eyes.


    The man rubbed his hands in glee. "Now now, where''s the artifact you want me to see?"


    This man, known as the brilliant (and disorganized) scientist Horst De''Lavone was recognized by many adventurers as the lead researcher of artifacts. From magical to mechanical to even a mix of both, Horst was known to pick artifacts apart, piece by piece, record its structure and properties, and then reassemble it, almost brand-new and in working condition, no matter the complexity. When the team unveiledthe casket, still on the wagon, his eyes widened in surprise.


    "Ohoho. Ohohohohohohoho! Ohohohohohohohohoohoho!" Ever increasing in intensity and pitch, his eyes shined feverishly as he stumbled towards it. He was old, but he moved surprisingly quick. "This isamazing! This is by far the largest and most complete artifact I have ever seen! So far I''ve only seen broken bits and small machines, but never something like this!" He grabbed onto Angela''s shoulder and shook it madly. "Tell me, tell me quick! Where did you find this artifact?!"


    Dannerth had to intervene to save Angela from the madness of the old scientist. "We found it in a clearing in one of Kesiah''s forests in this condition. It was being observed by both feral goblins and orcs."


    This info shook the madman out of his stupor. "Clearing, you say? And surrounded by both feral orcs and goblins? Inthis condition?" He waved a hand towards the casket. Gudrak simply nodded.


    "And it didn''t attack or do anything to you? No lightning, no creaking, nothing at all?" This time, all four of them nodded. He didn''t question them on how they got the orcs and goblins out of the way. "This is odd," he muttered. "Very odd. Bring it to the center of the workshop. Upright," he ordered.


    They did as he complied ,and set it upright in the center of the room. Again, as punishment, Charles let the other three do all the heavy lifting. When Horst looked at him, he just shrugged and said "They used me as bait." That seemed to explain anough, as Horst chucked a bit and returned to examining the casket before him.


    The task was done and the group of four lazed around on a set of couches, drinking a set of hot wine that Horst offered. As usualy, they returned to their usual banter, this time on the artifact that they gave to Horst.


    "So... in our haste, we did not even bother to find out anything about it. Was there anything on it? Marks, runes, anything at all?" Charles questioned. The three shook their heads.


    Horst sighed. "Well, it makes no difference. I just sweeped up some of the dust and all I could see was a bunch of scratches." Then he threw a bombshell. "Youcould ask what what''s inside it though."


    Silence permeated the room, then the four adventurers laughed. "As if," Dannerth said, tears in his eyes. "Really good joke though," Angela commented. Charles smirked, but stayed quiet.


    "There''s nothing in there, and we know that already" Gadruk quipped. He turned to Horst. "So, got any more jokes to tell?"


    Unlike Charles, Dannerth, Angela, and Gadruk, Horst was completely serious. "I''m quite serious about there beingsomething in the casket." He turned to the casket now. "Why don''t you come out?"


    The groan of the metal doors greeted him as the casket opened its doors an inch. Everyone except Horst froze. Inside was shadow, save for two, flickering circles in the darkness. Eyes with intelligence and curiosity.


    "Monster," whispered Angela. None of the otehr adventurers dared to make a move.


    Horst only looked at it with glee.

 Chapter 5: The Monster, and the Great Escape

    The previously opened casket held nothing but darkness at first. The robot woke up en route to Ia''Annerth when the frame noticed a series of jolts on the wagon and booted up its inhabitant.


    [/WARING: Severe movement detected. Possible danger expected.]


    [/Initiating boot sequence...]


    The usual procedure followed: fans starting up, eye-lights glowing, and the loud beeping sound.


    BEEP.


    Thankfully, the people who were transporting him did not hear the noise over their banter, the clopping of the horses, and the rattling of the wooden wagon. Unfortunately, the robot woke up with its first image of the doors of the casketand the banter of numerous sounds outside the frame. He was confused.


    Um... what the hell happened here?


    The robot tried to pick itself up, but due to the rocking of the cart on the uneven road, stumbled, and then banged its head on the ceiling and the sides of the frame. One of the key features of the sentience module was a sense of pain, used as a way for the AI in the robot to detect any malfunctions, injuries, and other sorts of limits, such as intense audio input and part breakdowns. And the similarity between pain in animals and this AI also meant that this "pain" could also linger; just not enough to permanently disable itself. The pain that the robot now experienced was due to its full weight causing it to smash itself into the frame, a few hundred pounds of metal smashing into a metal wall. The robot never felt "pain" at such as high level before.


    The damaged motors and armor made it feel some pain, similar to muscle soreness for humans, but for the robot, it felt as if he was being roasted alive. It was even worse when he tried to walk, but his curiosity got the better of him before. This new, intense pain made it nearly black out, another side effect of near-human sentience. After the "pain" went away, it did what other people would do: it cussed. It cursed in all the languages it knew: "fuck", "motherfucker", and "dick" in British English, cuss words in Hindu, similes, and metaphors in Chinese, Japanese, and other various languages.But all that came out of its speakers was broken static. The robot was shocked.


    Damn it... one more thing that''s broken and needs to be fixed...


    Good thing the beings outside didn''t hear his cursing. The robot felt depressed at the realization. Not only could he not use any of his advanced sensors, he couldn''t even verbally communicate! Even if he somehow managed to make contact with sentient beings (he was sure of this because he founda small pile of garbage strewn in a patch close to the clearing), he couldn''t communicate. The continued rocking and the closed hatch helped to confirm one of his worst scenarios: A sentient being has found the frame and the frame was being sent to who-knows-where. That, and he was still on his knees because the fucker who was transporting him decided to put the frame on its side. What was the chance that they would the hatch facing the ground? That left a last-chance survival plan: the "don''t-get-dissected-whatever-you-do" plan.


    He cursed again, even though all that he could do was emit broken static. That left a last-chance survival plan: the "don''t-get-dissected-whatever-you-do" plan. Not that it needed much explanation. Burst out of the frame and try not to get injured. That should be easy; his battery was full and his armor, although rusted and scratched, should deflect some of the projectiles that would come his way, if there were any.


    So he lied down and waited... Waited until he could probably get out. That was a pretty big if by the way. Most likely they would take an x-ray of the casket, find him in it, and blast him to pieces. All in all, desperation.


    <hr>


    Later, the sounds of voices increased exponentially. First, it was constrained to a few collections. Then a few more. After that, it slowly increased into a crescendo, a multitude so vast that the robot had trouble keeping track of them all. The robot noticed a pattern between the sounds. Some were grating and loud; others meek and soft, and even a few rumblings and what sounded like air being inhaled into a vacuum. All this happened through a series of stops and accelerations, which the robot presumed to be either traffic, rest stops, or... whatever the beings did. He reasoned that life would be different here. Sure, the "trees" were green and had leafs, and the environment looked similar, but this did not mean that it was similar to Earth. For all the robot knew, the "leaves" could be made out of radioactive uranium and the "trees" could be rocks, with the ground being alive. He couldn''t tell until he could create better machines, anyway. A chunk of unrefined uranium could look like jade to the naked eye.Stolen novel; please report.


    The robot did not realize that the sounds were the voices of people as they made their way to the city, Ia''Annerth, through the various roads that they crossed. Some time later, through the braking and the acceleration, the transport that he was on stopped for the last time. After the collection of sounds reached the robot, he noticed it was mainly the first ones that he heard and a new sound. It was more varying and mainly at a higher pitch than its original octave.


    He did not realize that the sounds were the voices of people as they made their way to the city, Ia''Annerth, through the various roads that they crossed. Some time later, through the braking and the acceleration, the transport that he was on stopped for the last time. After the collection of sounds reached the robot, he noticed it was mainly the first ones that he heard and a new sound. It was more varying and mainly at a higher pitch than its original octave.


    Soon he was placed upright at a place. He could now see through the crack of the frame''s doors a reflection of fire on what looked like wooden walls. He was amazed: it was like he was at a house on Earth! Still, though, he was not sure if itwas wood and actual flames, but it was close enough for comfort.


    A collection of sounds then clustered around an area directly in front of him. To his utter surprise, the sounds belonged to humanoids! One was short and bulky, with red-orange hair and medieval protective wear. Another belonged to an old man in slippers and a white, dirtied lab coat. Another belonged to a short female with a metal-tipped wooden staff. Yet another was covered in glass vials on top of what appeared to be leather. And the last was still in heavy metallic armor.


    He marveled at the similarities between this place and of humanity. The only difference, it seemed, would be the language. Then the old man gestured for him to come out. He didn''t hesitate to do so.


    No point in hiding myself when the old man already knows I''m here. And I''m also sick of being cooped up in this frame...


    <hr>


    The four adventurers looked at the monster the appeared before them. Rusted and caked in red dust, its flickering blue eyes never left their gaze and never blinked under the scratched metal mask, similarly covered in red dust. The humanoid body it inhabited was completely covered in full metal armor, with special metal plates covering the joints. It had pushed the door of the casket open after peeking through, and staggered over to them, keeping a distance away from them. A word to describe it would bealien. Although humanoid, it did not make any unnecessary movements. It wasn''t graceful either. Apparently, that red dust it was leaking out did something to its movements.


    It took a glance at the adventurers and focused on Horst next, expecting something to happen. The reaction was a chuckle. "So this thing trusts me that much already?" he asked, amused. "Then hold on there for a moment." He motioned for the humanoid to stay there, and then brought out an artifact: a mana-powered saw. Horst then did his classic maniacal grin when the saw whirred to life. "I''m just going to find out what is under that armor you''re wearing..."


    The humanoid freaked out, and some sort of noise came out of the humanoid. It sounded artificial and brokenlike someone tried to get a sound artifact working but damaged it severely in the process. It then proceeded to try and get away from the scientist, who was running after it as fast as his slipper-covered feet could do. Which wasn''t much, considering that the humanoid was lurching around at a snail''s pace. After a few minutes, Horst was tired and sat back down. "God dammit, I''ve been chasing this thing around while you guys did nothing! Quick, after it! I''ll give you one of my artifacts!" he screamed.


    The four adventurers were toogreedy to let this chance pass by. Horst''s artifacts were legendary, with some being able to do anything from long-distance voice calls to projections and electric shocks. All were useful for adventurers, and all were coveted and owned by the various powers of the world. To offer one for capturing the humanoid meant that Horstreally wanted it. They all started to pursue the humanoid with their weaponsbut were careful enough to not damage anything on the tables.


    The humanoid was panicking and its movements became jerkier. It snapped its head to look at them and suddenly ran up to the second floor of the residence, which was Horst''s personal living space. With the four (plus Horst, who tried to go after them too, but was still winded) rright on its tail, the humanoid ran into the hallway and quickly opened up the window at the end, jumped out, and landed on an adjacent roof while jerkily running away and leaping across rooftops. It was feat that none of the people present could hope to accomplish, yet the humanoid managed to do so in a badly injured position. That was a testament to its abilities.


    The four adventurers and one wheezing Horst could only look in dismay at the top of the staircase at its rapidly disappearing back as it ran out into the dark caverns of Ia''Annerth atop the many rooftops of the slums. Then Horst turned his gaunt, wrinkled face to the party. "You know that the offer still stands, right?"


    The others nodded, but this did not prevent them from still sighing. They wanted Horst''s artifacts badly, but they also knew that this would take time. A lot of time.

 Chapter 5: The Terror in the Night, and the Creatures Appearance

    A sound could be hearddeep within the first-floor slums of Al''Annerth: a rhythmic thumping on the houses'' roofs, sometimes only once, but other times quite a few. Once, it stopped on a roof of a house, and it shuffled around on it for a while. The groan of the roof was audible. Its inhabitants feared that whatever it was, it might have been after them. Assassinswere fairly common in the underground networks of the city, but they were incredibly expensive. To hire one meant that its target made an incredibly big mistake. Most assassins carried only light gear, which turned theirfootsteps nearly inaudible. But a few (for extermination jobs) also carried some of the heaviest and most deadly gear available on the black market, and their footsteps on the roofs were heavy. Like this one. The inhabitants feared that they wouldget killed in an extremely brutal way. When assassins made lots ofnoise like this, they don''t leave anyone left alive to talk about it. It left soon after, and the house''s inhabitants breathed a sign of relief. They were safe for today.


    The robot was not some sort of assassin; the only reason thathe could leap across the alleys was that he had pneumatic pistons on his four legs, built for exploration across plateaus and cliffs on Jupiter''s moons, an area with high gravity. Even then, on this world, in his dilapidated state, he could only leap across alleyways, not the streets or the highway. If he tried, he would fail the jump and land smack-dab in the middle of the way. At best, he would cause a commotion and might be hit by a carriage. At worst, he would be found and destroyed while being labeled as a monster.


    Another characteristic of the robot was that it never moved around in a straight line. Doingso was the quickest way to move around, but the robot, the source of the noise, also knew that doing so would be a horrible mistake. He wasn''t some lithe assassin, but a three hundred-something pound robot running for its life. Doing that would be suicidal and made him an easy target in the darkness. Just follow the sound and fire in front of it.


    The robot saw a stone house in his view and scrabbled there for safety. The slum''s roofs were all made of random bits of wood and cloth, made for capturing heat and blocking out the wind, but certainly not for carrying a heavy robot, not matter how sturdy it was. Stone, however, had to be carvedand also had to be sturdy. A stone roof weighed at least a few hundred pounds. It could certainly carry a few hundred more.


    Stone houses were not rare in Al''Annerth overallbut were rare in the slums due to its long construction period and material cost. Cloth and wood at best were only somewhat costly, but stone either had to be bought (usually at a significantly higher price), or mined and carved into stonebricks and cemented together with clay and primitive cement. Both options were costly and took a long time to build. Out in the slums, this meant that the building was carved and built during the city''s initial construction, a rare sight to see. It also made it tower above the other slum buildings in the vicinity, transforming it into a good viewing platform. Luckily, it was surrounded by alleyways, which meant that the robot could manage to get onto it. He activated his pistons while running and leaped onto the roof of the squat, stone building. Except for the initial landing, he did not make a sound. The robot surveyed his surroundings, which were dark from the lack of light, of which were contained within the rickety houses of the slums.


    Looks like I can rest easy here, he judged.still, I have a few goals in mind.


    He judged his battery supply, his electrical usage, and his current situation and position.


    Batterysupply should be good for a week or so. My body''s rusted to shit, and barely functional. No sensors except for hearing, visionand touch working. And Ireally don''t blend in. Hell, I''d be a walking attraction or something of nightmares for the people.


    His priorities were set as is:


    1) Find a way to blend in (CURRENT PRIORITY)


    2) Secure a source of electrical energy (limit: 1 week)


    3) Find a way to recover sensors and repair the body (limit: indefinite)


    Then the robot realized one key flaw of his ways to blend in and cursed: he didn''t have any clothes. Clothes would allow him to pass through the public without any prying eyes following him. From what he observed by running through the slums, most people wore cloaks and covered themselves in head to toe with whatever they got: rags, tunics, shirts, boots, and even leather gloves. All of which he did not have. If the robot could grimace now, he would: he would have to steal from someone. Preferably quite a few people to get what they wanted.


    The robot sighted a commotion near him, next to a few large buildings. A perfect target for what he needed.


    What you ain''t got, you steal, he quoted. He chuckled. Whoever made that quote must have been in a similar situation as right now.


    <hr>


    Four people were in an alleyway, faced against a single person against a wooden warehouse wall. A figure slammed against the wall, resounding with a sharp crack. Blood poured out from the back of the figure''s head, and he stumbled onto the ground. Then he picked himself up, slowly and painfully. A chuckle emanated from one of the people. All of them dressed in raggedtunics, pants, and shoes, with cloaks on all of them, in colors unknown in the darkness. But one carried himself with an air of charisma. He was the only one who was not actively participating in the fight. Buff arms crossed, he glared down at the man on the floor, who was now seen in the torchlight from one of the torches that the men brought, which was being held by the man on the far right. Somewhere in his late teens, this man had his hair matted with his own blood and with bleeding cuts along his face. The man has obviously seen some violence, most likely from the ones beating him up right now. What made it worse was how the clothes he wore hung limply on the man''s frame. He was obviously starving. Anyone from outside the slums would be horrified. In the slums, though, it was a common occurrence.


    In his hands, though, was what the men were beating him up for: a leather pouch of clinking coins, filled with an unknown amount of currency. The man was clutching onto it with all his might, trying to run away from the thugs, dodging left and right, but three of them surrounded him, with the leader right in front of him. He was a pickpocketand managed to steal this right under the boss''s nose when he was talking with his lackeys. Or so he thought.


    The boss noticed, however, and followed him here to the warehouse district, which was clear of people at this hour. Then he and his three goons paid him a visit. The torch held close to the pickpocket''s face obscured their faces from his eyes. But he could from their stature and body outlines in the darkness that all four were buff and used to fighting. The leader, who he now realized wore leather gloves, possibly for the grimy work that he was about to do, then opened his mouth and spoke in a quiet, hoarse voice. It held no emotionand was more of a statement than a question.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "Well now, give up the coins, now will ya?"


    The pickpocket only glared at him, fully aware of what was going to transpire. In his days in the slums, he encountered a lot of meetings and witnessed gruesome events. Such as what would happen now. Even if he gave up the pouch of coins, they would kill him in the most brutal way possible and hang his body up in the square as a warning, with the gang''s inscription right next to him: a marking of a boar''s head on a pike.


    That thought made him clutch the pouch tighter. He was careful as soon as he entered the city, a refugee from the no man''s lands between the countries. He was the only child in his family, who once lived in a forest in obscurity, in a rickety cabin. They believed in living in peace, and avoided contact, only to have them found and massacred before his very eyes by invading bandits. He was lucky so far, getting to the city while sneaking past the border patrols and into the city. Once here, he only stole meager amounts of coin in order to avoid detection. Even if people found out, they probably would not care. It was an amount big enough to eat bread every few days and wash it down with water from the wells, but to others, it was such an insignificant amount, even here in the slums, where money was especially tight. It might as well be chump change. Too bad his greed got him this time. The guards would look the other way with his death.More criminals out from the slums, they reasoned.


    The thought only made him clutch the bag tighter in his desperation. If he played it right, he could rise out of poverty. Hide the bag in a safe place and get enough food to where he would be gaunt, but not anorexic, buy a few decent clothes, rent a small room, and find some work in the middle-class section of the city. Then find a marriage partner, settle down, and have a nice life. It was a dream he previously thought not possibleuntil he foundthe bag of coins. Now he was going to be killed for obtaining said dream by stealing the bag of coins. He was smart enough; his family taught him how to read and do prealgebra to pass the time in their secluded life. Too bad he would not use it if he died. All that knowledge bestowed unto him would turn into a waste. The leader sighed.


    "Looks like we would have to do this the hard way."


    The leader then took a boxing stance and swung a left hook. The pickpocket tried to dodge to his right, only to be caught by one of the lackeys and held in place. He did not use the bag of coins to throw away or block. The leader could just take it from him. His hook would turn into a feint, and grab the bag as he was blocking, and then kill him. Or he could just hunt him down and kill him if he threw it away. But as long as he held onto the bag, the man would try to make him give it up. Which meant that he would survive longer and possibly get out of this deadly situation. Also, the bag clutched to his chest and abdomen meant that he could only hit his face and legs. Usually, the face, since it would hurt the most. If he lost the bag, then he was done for.


    The hook connected to his face as he cringed, expecting the horrible pain. It came. The fist rattled his brain and made him lose all senses, except for the pain. The horrible pain that he felt made him sag onto the floor, a big, red, swollen fist mark on his right cheek showed the area of impact from the man''s meaty fist. But he still clutched onto the bag of coins, a physical manifestation of hope, of his future. Of his dreams. Through the pain, the pickpocket judged that he might not withstand another hit without losing the bag, which meant death to him.


    As this thought pushed its way through the pain that he currently felt, his instincts noticed something amiss about the warehouse. The torch shed some light in the darkness, enough to show a few of the grimy wooden walls of the surrounding warehouses. Before, there was no other sight. But now, there was something vaguely shining behind the thugs'' back. It moved a little as he saw it, and the shining stopped and came back as the seemingly humanoid figure came towards it out of the darkness of the cavern. "Humanoid" would not describe it. Its movements, although humanoid, initially looked like any other person''s movements, but after the initial glance, it moved everything wrong. For humanoids, their gait tended to be fluid. This creature''s movement was anything but fluid. It tilted its body forward on one leg while holding the other in the air, used its momentum to step down, and then repeated the process with the other leg. It used its arms for balancebut only held it slightly at its sides, looking more like a bird than an actual humanoid. It walked like this in a slow, jerky step, making the groan of unoiled metal on metal as it moved, and every footfall it made was punctuated with the sound of metal on stone (this is because the robot learned how to walk without any guidance).


    griiiii. Clank. griiii. Clank.


    As it approached, it steps became slower and slower, the clanking less pronounced, but the metallic shriek getting louder as it slowly moved towards the five. Then its head turned, and the man held his breath.


    The humanoid had a mask on, its dirty red exterior showing in the light of its torch and covering its face. In place of the eye sockets, though, were glowing "eyes" -little blue orbs shaped in a circle where the iris of the eyes should be. The rest of the "eye" held nothing but darkness.


    With the pickpocket holding his breath and looking behind one shoulder, the leader realized that something was wrong. Usually, the people that he would kill either looked away at him or looked defiantly in his own eyes. But never over his shoulder. He felt a chill as he thought about who had managed to sneak up behind him with little to no warning. This time, he was so focused on making the pickpocket give up the bag that he didn''t notice the erson behing him. Quickly, he whirled aroundand saw the same humanoid figure as the pickpocket saw. Then he saw the mask and the "eyes" that it wore on its face. He uttered a sentence, one with enough fear to make everyone stop and look at what he saw.


    "You... who, no,what are you?"


    Everyone was frozen in fear and shaking at the abnormal sight in their midst. This alien creature simply did not reactand continued to step towards it with a faster gait.


    griii. Clank. griii. Clank.


    This unnatural sound and gait freaked out all of the people, the leader and thugs included. One of them tried to intimidate the creature in front of them. "You! No matter what or whoyou are, you cannot against the mighty Boar''s Hunt gang! If you don''t leave, we''ll kill you right now and hang your body up as a warning to the rest of you lot!"


    As he said this, the alien creature continued to walk towards the one who spoke, on the pickpocket''s right. Then it held up a hand and simply.. reached out to the man. In a flash, and with the shriek of unoiled metal on metal, it hoisted up the man by the neckand then turned its head towards the rest of them. The torch clattered onto the groundand illuminated the creature in front of them.


    It was covered in what appeared to be full armor, except that it had no plates on it. Rather, it wore rusted, red sheets of metal as the "armor", and had joints on it for movement. Its head was seemingly created out of sheet metal too. The only part of the creature that wasn''t covered in the armor was the mask it wore. And the flickering, blue lights of its irises that glowed out from the darkness behind its mask.


    It then held onto the man with a grip of steel. Stronger and stronger it gripped, with the man gurgling something under the strength. A plea, or maybe a curse. No one knew. The creature increased its grip strength until a crushing sound could be heard, and then released the prisoner. The captured man fell to the ground, his throat crushed and his spine snapped.


    Then it turned to the rest of the people alive and looked at them. It did not speak, but its eyes told them a clear and frightening message: You are my next targets. You are my next prey.You are the next ones to die.

 Chapter 6: The Murder, the Learning, and More Objectives

    The rest of the group, both victims and instigators, stared at theabomination in front of them. such a horrifying creature lurking under that mask and armor can''t be human. Each of the thugs alone could easily face up to ten armed street rats unarmedand kill them within minutes. They can even face the guards, which was why the guards formed an alliance with them. But it had killed one of the thugs in less than ten secondsand done so even in its equipment in obvious disrepair, and possibly in an injured state.


    How could they, the low-lives of Al''Annerth, stand up to such as powerful figure?


    In instinct, the three thugs ran away with this single thought. The pickpocket cursed under his breath. "Mama''s tits, they really are cowards."


    Maybe they thought that fleeing would allow them to live. Too bad for them that he knew better. He had met individuals much stronger than him, fighters and brawlers in taverns who had too much alcohol to drink and wanted to pick a fight when he scraped enough money up to buy some food. They always started with the weak-looking people, such as him, for example. Or that other drunkard in the corner of the tavern. Over time, and many bar-brawls later, he had realized that they respected (or feared) those who would stand up for themselves and their friends (although he had none), and would then stop picking on them. But it had to be done subtly, otherwise, it would be taken as overconfidence. A straightening in posture. A well-formed battle stance. Vigilance at any and all circumstances. And looking them straight in the eye. Such a strategy could come in handy right now in his current situation, but only if the thing in front of him had the same morals or if it respected those who could fight back. But what else could he do? Run like them and get killed immediately? That would only guaranteehis death, like them.


    Then the mass of metal looked at him in the eyes. He had a plan, but it would most likely result in his death. Then again, if he failed, at least he would go down fighting. Unlike the wimps who ran away.


    He looked at the murderer in front of him, defiance in his eyeswhile straightening his posture into a frontal stance of boxing: arms up, protecting the chest and head, with slightly spread out, bent legs for a lower center of gravity and balance. His outer appearance was a facade; in his mind, he was hoping and praying that this would work. He had forsaken the gods when the bandits killed his family, and he would forsake them even now, facing almost certain death.


    Maybe it decided that he was too troublesome to handle, or maybe it would simply leave him around as a plaything, before killing him anyways. Monsters did that in the wild, so why not this thing? To his utter surprise, his threatening posture worked; the monster in front of him walked right by without another glance.


    To his utter surprise, his plan worked; the monster in front of him walked right by without another glance. He did not dare to allow his appearance to crumble minutes after the thing went around the corner and listened attentively for any tell-tale sign of the moving metal armor. When he heard nothing, he fled with all of his might from the creature, past the torch, past the corpse of the thug, his blood leaking out of his still beating body out of his crushed neck into the skin that still connected the head to the body, making it bulge like some sort of giant, ghastly tumor. Out of this nightmare into the uncertain, gritty world again. With the pouch of money that he stole, of course. Without it, he would face another situation where he would get killed, and he would like some sort of self-reward for surviving this mess.


    <hr>


    The three thugs were still running away from the abomination behind them, their footsteps rapid slaps against the rough stone floor. None slipped, but all were tired. They all sat down on the floor. With bated breaths, even in their exhausted condition, they listened for the monster. None was heard, and all breathed a sigh of relief. They lost their original target, the pickpocket, but after that thing killed one of them, they had fled,but they had gotten away with their lives.


    While looking at each other in the eyes, without words, they all agreedon the same thoughts: They had to continue on. Sure, their boss could kill them. Lives were a dime a dozen in the slums, after all. But they survived that grisly and horrifying encounter. They had the obligation to tell the rest of the slums about this creature that was stalking them in the night. Without this news, the slums would fall into anarchy, gang bosses unable to wrangle control out of the chaos that would ensue. This meant no money earnt, and no power to control. The city might even lose the upper levels above it, and control of the highway. This information simply ranked above their lives. That was all they cared about right now. After all, who cared about power when thecapital could potentially be cut off from its only line of supply and communication, and possible be wiped out?


    They struggled to their feet in the darkness. They lost the torch back when they ran, but they didn''t care. You didn''t survive in the slums without learning how to see things in the dark.


    All chanted under their breath. "Darkness falls, no one sees, push the limits, Dark Sight!"


    They felt their pupils expand as large as they could, in order to absorb the maximum amount of light possible. It was the equivalent of being high on drugs, without the mental conditions and other side effects. Everyone held some sort of mana control, ranging from slightly quicker feet and slightly better balance to legendary blasts of lightning and fire. These people were the ones with better amounts of mana control, who learned the chant for better night vision. Spells weren''t formed by words. The words instead conjured up certain ideas of what to do in the head. But it also required intense control and the understanding of the individual''s targeted biological functions and environment to successfully pull it off and contain its effects. Otherwise, it went haywire or simply didn''t do anything.


    With the newfound power in hand, the three rushed deeper into the warehouse section of the slums, around the slum guards in the residence section, with the goal of slipping into a patrol of bribed guards, who would then let them in. They would let the guard know, too, of this terrifying life form if they could. They were brutal, but both the guards and thugs had a sort of moral code: no man should go down without a fight, and without knowing what would kill them. This didn''t apply to assassins and other, more shady figures, though.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Then a bright blue light reached them. That was what they saw with their hyperextended pupils. They shrieked and immediately covered their eyes. But they realized that thismost likely wasn''t the guard patrol, for they did not travel into the warehouse district at night and did not have torches of blue light. They were too far from the residential district. Adventurers who could possibly have a blue light did not make it as steady and constant as this, even if it was a magically conjured flame. But they could guess what it could be: the being with the bright blue, glowing circles as eyes. The murderer of their comrade. And their death. This broke their minds, and they gave up in despair. They did a variety of actions. They got onto their knees and pleaded, face down, to the creature, to forgive them and to let them live. Then they prayed to the gods that they believed in to save them from this nightmare of theirs that had come to life. None of them ever realized that the monster in front of them lacked any empathy or pity for them. Sure, they gave protection to people and kept criminal actions to a minimum, but in truth, they were thugs, pure and simple. No one would miss them if they died. No one cared about them.


    In their despair, they constantly prayed and pleaded to the creature, even as one by one they were killed in the same fashion and manner as the firstuntil none of them were left. Then the creature got to work, setting out for what he intended to do originally: looting the corpses.


    <hr>


    The robot felt as though he had hit a treasure trove: because he killed all four of them, he could now choose what he wanted! Now he would no longer look like a monster in people''s eyes, or a rag-tag creature with random clothes, but simply a covered stranger. Good thing that these were common here in the slums. But first, to erase the evidence, so as to not arouse suspicion. At least until the corpses rot, but by then he would hopefully be out of this place. Carefully, he hefted the corpses over his shoulder one by one into a small ditch next to a warehouse that was a bit darker than its surroundings, including the one that he first killed. He then began pulling whatever he could off from the bodies: pants, shirts, cloaks, some coins, a dagger and its sheath, and some replacement clothes, too. The dagger wasn''t flashy, more of a shiv with a grip than anything else, but it was surprisingly durable. To test it out, he stabbed the warehouse wall with it. It punctured a hole in the wall without a scratch. Too bad all of the clothes he got were grimy and covered in sweat. He couldn''t smell, but others certainly would, so that would become a new objective. He listed this in his objectives list. He put clothes on carefully. He was first covered by a rough, brown woolen cloak, under which was a dirty, blue long-sleeved shirt, and another brown shirt underneath that, which hid part of his metal covering under the V-neck of the blue shirt. He then found the torch that one of the men dropped, extinguishing it by covering the burning bit with his hands. Then he fashioned a crude-carrying bag by using a cloak to bundle up the clothing and trying it to the torch, which served as a stick. Now he looked like a refugee, which perfectly fit his guise.


    He decided to hole up in the warehouse district until the people resumed their work in the day. Yes, the city was mostly in a cavern, but clocks and communication made the city operate on a day-to-day basis, not every hour. Plus, the robot reasoned that there was something that was blocking the way to the residential district of the slumssince the three were all running in the opposite direction from the residences.


    So he slowly climbed on the rungs of a warehouse ladder up to a warehouse roof, and then sat on the roof. Deliberately away from the bodies to prevent suspicion. And he waited. Waited until he could be certain that he could slip through back into the residential district.


    <hr>


    The waiting took an extremely long time. With his internal clock, the robot judged it to be about four to five Earth hours. He didn''t know anything about this planet''s rotation and seasons. During that time, although he was on alert, he was bored out of his mind. Entering sleep mode as not an option, as he would be defenseless against any intrusions and attacks made towards him. He spent the time to make a series of preparations and adjustments, specifically with the cloak that he was wearing. This would be his make-shift version of a military vest.


    First, underneath his cloak, he added a series of pockets on the underlining. The robot found out about the cloak''s double lining when he picked up the cloak, and part of it sagged to the floor, which was not supposed to happen. Stupid him spent half an hour in the dark trying to find out what the hell was wrong with it until it was actually two cloaks sewn together on the fringes. This gave him an idea. He found a wooden splinter from a warehouse wall and carefully removed one of the strings on his replacement clothes, and used the dagger that he looted to cut a few holes in this cloak. After a while (and lots of thread) he finished his cloak. It had numerous pockets, from those at the hand levels to the chest, and even some on the lower hem of the cloak. All were in inconspicuous spots, including one at the back, at the crook of his neck, where he placed the now-sheathed dagger in. He couldn''t pad it with cloth, otherwise, it would suspicious. He didn''t want to like some amateur thief. As a side note, he hoped that he would have more stuff to out in these pockets. Right now, he wasn''t packing any firepower.


    Even with all these preparations, the robot was sure that he would not be ready for any fights or brawls anytime soon. Sure, he had a dagger, but pretty much everyone in the slums would have a weapon. And he had no clue how to use it. Yes, it was made for stabbing, but it probably had more uses. The one who had the dagger, the leader, went in some kind of stance to use the dagger, but that was all that the robot could see in that situation. Another thing to learn: how to use weapons.


    He sighed to himself and packed up his looted items, before carefully creeping down the warehouse roof onto the street below. By this time, a few people were up and walking around on the warehouse district''s streets and alleys, in similar inconspicuous brown cloaks like his. All had their heads down to the ground to conceal their identityand walked around in periodic routes. None talked to each other or even threw a glance at each other. This was good for himbecause he could blend into the darkness and pretend to be one of them if things went south. The robot surmised that these were bodyguards of sorts. Using his information of their routes, he managed to get out of the warehouse districts into the clear border between the residential and warehouse districts of the slums. This was even with the loud steps of his feet against the stone. This was nothing but a street. However, there were only warehouses on one side and ramshackle houses on the other. He didn''t know why they separated it like they did, but he saw the light of a torch flickering in the darkness along the border.


    Another patrol, he thought.


    Each patrol consisted of three guards, with one holding the torch and the other two on the lookout. This one was different. Compared to their usual, brisk pace, this one patrol''s slow, lazy patrol along their route allowed him the opportunity to quickly scramble across while they bickered with each other in their strange language, which was formed out of some garble of syllables, tones, and different pitches, strangely with a constant volume. So far, he could not understand anything that anyone said, and could not form any sort of structure out of the sounds that they made, except for a few basic gestures, such as the "get over here" waving that Lorst did. Anything else was utterly alien to him.


    He was back in the slums. Well, the part that people constantly lived in anyway. He didn''t actually leave the slumssince all the warehouses were sturdy, but in poor condition, so they could still be considered part of the slums. Still, he completed his most pressing objective, but he just added loads more.

 Chapter 7: A Place to Stay, and Danger Beyond

    A figure walked through the dark and smelly alleyways of the first-floor slums of Al''Annerth, dressed in a dark brown cloak, pants, and gloves with a hood on, carefully stepping around the filth that was spread all across the rough stone alleyways and streets. No part of his body was uncovered, the face shrouded in darkness, unknown to everyone who saw him. No one paid attention to such a figurebecause down here, because everyone dressed similarly outside of their homes and properties. And even if someone would have the guts to as that person, they would most likely get shanked to death in one of the dark pits of this place, never to be seen again. And nobody wanted that, so they let strangers be as they were.


    That perfectly served the robot, who thought about this before he managed to "acquire" his recent find. Now he had to find a safe place to hole up. As he didn''t know the area of the slums, he took sometime to wander around the residential districtand mapped out his surroundings on a 2D map, similar to a game''s minimap, which he kept in the top-left corner of his vision to glance at occasionally. He noticed that although the buildings of the slums were numerous and rather fragile (seen when he shanked a hole in the wall back at the warehouse district), some of them were also vacant for reasons unknown. Another objective to complete would be to find a place to stash his loot. Unfortunately, this wouldtake time. An unknownamount of time. He got depressed at this notion.


    Another thing I don''t know and worry about.


    He decided to try and find an abandoned hole in the wall to store away his stuffso that he wouldn''t have to carry it all around and get stolen if a scuffle would break out close to him.


    To put in a few words, the task would be "Difficult and nearly impossible to accomplish". Holes in the wall were hard enough to find. Blended into the dark shadows of buildings, the doors to them were literally sections of walls on hinges and locks. He only spotted an example when a careless young person went through such a door quietly as he was snooping around. He marveled at such an ingenious design. There was no problem of camouflagesince it was already part of the wall, to begin with, and there were no obvious cracksor openings, at first sight to him, screaming "Hey, there''s a secret door over here! Come on and open it!" He still puzzled over how they built it without anyone noticing, but he wasn''t going tobuild one (an impossible task, since he didn;t know how they worked in the first place), but rather take an abandoned one over.


    This search for a temporary residence led him to a large, dirty plaza of rough stone, littered with dilapidated stalls and groups of criminals, as merchants from the slums and cooks filled the air with unknown cries of their goods. Often times, young, naive thieves, usually young teenagers and kids of all sizes, their appearances covered by dirty cloaks, would try to steal from these stalls. It appeared to be a common everyday event, as some of the stall owners would simply smack their hands away with their hands or a utensil, or grab a weapon, usually a knife or dagger, hidden under the stall and pretend to stab their stealing handfrom it, sinking it into the wood. This would temporarily terrify them and send them scurrying away, but after about a quarter of an hour, their greed or their desperation forced them to try and steal from neighboring stalls. They all dressed in the same style of cloaks, but the darkness of the floor made them look nearly identical. Why bother to catch them when others would take the opportunity to steal from the stall? To the robot, who had all of Earth''s history in his databanks, by historical records, all of the thieves appeared to be part of the same group orurchin gang, due to their similar appearance. Probably in someone''s territory in the slums working to collect money for them and to feed themselves. He carefully walked his way across the side of the plaza, making sure to avoid the filth on the ground, the scurrying thieves and gangsters, and the stall owners hawking their wares with their shouts. All while keeping constant vigilance. He wanted no part in this mess.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    <hr>


    Once out of that chaotic zone, he traveled in a straight line into the outskirts of the residential district. The buildings turned shabbier and the people near it more hostile with every step taken. Soon weapons were openly brandished constantly in public to ward off anyone who would dare to attack them. This included clubs, crude iron maces, shanks, swords, and even a small improvised crossbow. That dark-haired female who had the crossbow kept everybody away with her crossbow and her small quiver hanging from her thigh. The robot presumed that a crossbow in this world could have complete superiority against any close-combat weapon in the slums, so they stayed away from her to avoid getting shot. That, or she was some sort of assassin or professional rogue. Again, the lack of information irked him. He made sure to avoid her, slipping as much as he could through the shadows to get away. Luckily, she was far away, about a few dozen meters down from him, and wasn''t facing him, so he took an adjacent alley to get some distance between him and the crossbow-wielding woman.


    Once he got a comfortable distance away from her, he ruminated about his past experiences, as people still walked around brandishing their own weapons. Such as close call did not bode well for his future. If he ran into dangerous-looking individuals like her, there was a much higher chance of getting caught or destroyed. He had to act quicker.


    Wandering around the outskirts of the slums made him see some new sights, some of which he didn''t know how to react. He saw thieves stabbed to death, scantily-clad prostitutes looking for money (next to a big, brutish bouncer, who didn''t seem fazed by their appearance. It was probably his daily job),successful thieves stealing from others and running away, their most recent prey screaming and chasing after them. All seemingly normal in the slums, since there was no huge reaction from the surrounding people. Still no close to his goal, however. It grated on his artificial, imaginative nerves and made his steps quicker and more jerky. People started noticing this and started whispering to each other while takingglances at him. This made him even more uncomfortable and agitated, turning it into a cycle of desperation and agitation. Unknown to him, a small group of thieves followed behind in the alleyways, slipping through the slum''s pedestrian traffic. It was quite obvious to the slum residents, but they actually made small talk with them as they went by. Unlike the other petty thieves of the slums, this was the slum''s unofficial "welcoming group" that everyone took delight on seeing, whether criminals, guardsor residents. They vowed only to steal from the newcomers of the slums (or those who are passing through) and distributed a little of the stolen wealth to the residents. Of course, they kept most of it, since they were the ones committing the crime.


    The leader in the middle of this group, as well as the others in the group. wore a dark brown cloak that matched the darkness of the floor, the color of the ground, and the walls of the slum buildings. He was differentiated by a small, simple black tag on the inside of his cloak, directly on the right kidney, that he would flash to others to show his rank when he gave orders: a simple grizzly bear outline. Under his cloak was a man of standard features: brown hair, dirty clothes, and light, pasty skin, a gaunt Caucasian teenager that looked as stereotypical as one could get in the slums. Born on the farms that surrounded Al''Annerth and abandoned at the slums at the age of four, he''d shown his skills by stealing anything that he could get his hands on that would be worth something of value and would avoid suspicion and trouble when he pawned them off for coins. His stereotypical look was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, since when he was often seen stealing, no one actually knew who he was, since his description also matched many of the known thieves and residents in the slums. A curse, because not even his closest subordinates knew him by his looks, so he constantly had to flash his little "badge" around. Still, it was a good life, having enough to eat and not having to worry about being caught in this work - because everybody loved it when he stole from newcomers and rich people who passed through. He grinned in anticipation of the upcoming "hunt". Soon, that person''s wealth and stuff would at least (partially) become his. Unless he was killed by the stranger or tortured as punishment.


    ...


    Fuck. He hadn''t actually found out about where this person came into the slums. But the person looked like a hobo, with their stuff in a bag on a stick, so it should be okay. Just another run. Right?


    Right?