Chapter Text
A cool breeze swept through the trees, disrupting the silence with the rustling of leaves as the sun dipped down past the distant skyline of Crinson City. Air circulated around and through the open doors of a long abandoned structure, just out of sight of the main road. A boy watched as the last rays of the sun slowly fell below the buildings marking the last day of summer. His fair skin reflected the warm tones of the setting sun. He wasn’t looking forward to seemingly endless work assigned to him for no good reason. Or at least, no good reason he could see. No more time to read freely, no more time to live solely in his own mindscape. He looked up at the sky now that the sun had fully disappeared. The deep blues behind the building chased the bright reds and oranges away from view towards the sun below the buildings. And just like that, the last day of summer had ended.
He leaned back and looked up at the darkening sky through the broken roof of the old warehouse. He had always wanted to see the stars he had read about so often in comic books about space and adventures. Even the fantasy stories talked about them. Scotty had explained to him time after time that he couldn’t see the stars because there were too many lights on in the city. “Why can’t everyone just shut all their lights off?” He would ask, “Everyone is supposed to be asleep anyways.” Scotty would just laugh and try to explain that everyone is too busy to do that. The boy let out a sigh as he gazed above. Even if everyone shut their lights off, no one would be able to see any stars tonight anyways, he thought to himself, lying all the way down and placing his interlocked hands behind the base of his head, there’s too many clouds in the way.
He started to doze off and wondered if Scotty would come to bring him home since school started tomorrow. Scotty had let him sleep in the warehouse before, so he wasn’t too worried. He listened to the rustling of the trees that came in waves. If he tried hard enough he could picture an ocean. He had never been to an ocean, but had seen plenty of pictures and videos to get a sense of what one might be like. And slowly, without realizing what was happening, he drifted off to sleep.
-
Sounds of an overhead aircraft woke the boy as the sun barely made its presence known in the still very dark and cloudy morning sky. He was disoriented, forgetting where he was. The sound grew louder, very quickly as though the craft was headed straight for him. In a panicked confusion, the boy tried to stand up and move to see what was happening, only to lose his balance and stumble over. Before he could recover, the craft smashed into the ground, shaking the warehouse before crashing right into the rear of the building. The whole room erupted in a cloud of dust upon impact. The boy completely lost balance and was thrown a few feet towards the front of the building. The shrieking of metal on metal was ear piercingly loud, followed by creaks and groans of the old structure. The boy had managed to tuck into a ball with his hands over his head to protect himself from the impact and remained that way until everything went quiet.
Peering into the dark, dust filled space, the boy slowly rose from his crouched position. If it weren’t for the slowly lightening of the sky, it would have been impossible to see anything. However, the boy could make out the dark shapes on the aircraft that had just crashed into the old warehouse. Squinting through the settling dust while he made his way closer to the impact site, the boy could see more and more details of the object. It was as big as the whole back wall which was over two stories tall, and twice that in width. The ground was shredded and sticking up at odd angles. As he got closer, he could see that a large portion of the strange object was embedded into the ground from the crash. Low light levels made it impossible to see any small details, but with the reducing dust levels, the boy could make out enough that made him think that the craft must’ve been some kind of top-secret government jet. It almost looked alien.
Whatever it was, the craft began to make odd whirring noises and released pressure in short bursts. Startled, the boy jumped back a bit looking at the place at what appeared to be the front of the craft where panels began to very quickly fold back into themselves in a very complex and jerky manner. There was movement within the craft that caused the boy to hide behind some rubble. Whatever was inside was huge, and made odd mechanical noises as it moved. A massive metal hand reached out to grab the side of the opening and pulled with it a proportionately massive body of a giant robotic being. Four, bright red optical receptors pierced through the lingering dusty darkness. The body and face of the huge robotic figure were made of very sharp angles and points. The hand that wasn’t holding onto the craft instantly changed into what appeared to be some sort of weapon with an ominous red glow at the end that matched the same glow as the robot’s optics. It moved with an urgentness as the being cautiously pulled itself out of the craft, sweeping the weapon back and forth as it scanned the room.
“Surviving lifeforms, make yourselves known or suffer the consequences.” The robot spoke using a tone that definitely wasn’t an artificial one, despite the sound itself being very robotic and staticy, making it very difficult to make out what was being said. This startled the boy even more and made him question if this robot was from the government. To his knowledge, no robots spoke that smoothly, ignoring the fact that something was causing interference.
The boy watched the robot as it continued to look around searching for any signs of movement. The dust had settled quite a bit and with the slowly brightening sky, he could make out more detail on the robot. It had other red glowing lights on its body, but the most noticeable were its optics which were set in thin eyelid-like slits that were very narrow as the robot searched. Its face looked almost mask-like, making it difficult to tell if the bottom portion was the top of a jaw or not. If it was, the face plate looked to have two vampire-like teeth with two slanted vents above each. There were three crests on top of its head, the center one being a bit larger. The way the robot moved was unlike the movement of any robot the boy had ever seen, again calling into question his assumption that it was even from Earth. He moved to get a closer look, trying to be as quiet as he could. Without warning, the robot swiftly turned and pointed its weapon inches from the boy, powering it up, preparing to shoot.
“Wait! I’m innocent!” The boy pleaded in a panic, shooting his hands up, eying the now bright red end of what looked like the barrel of a futuristic gun. “Please don’t kill me!”
“Who are you,” the robot questioned, the boy could see what looked like a bottom jaw move as it spoke in the low, staticy, robotic voice, confirming his assumption about the robot’s face plate.
“Kit West,” the boy answered without hesitation, “boy, age twelve, four-foot seven, eye color is hazel, I like comics and pizza and—”
“What planet is this?” The robot interrupted, sounding very impatient. He was cut off before he could finish listing his favorite things? Rude , Kit thought.
“Th-this is planet Earth,” Kit answered, still very paranoid with the blaster inches from his face.
The robot paused for a moment, analyzing the boy in front of him. Threat level: three out of ten, reported the internal data analysis, unbeknownst to the boy in front of him. The robot remained quiet while he continued to analyze the boy and the warehouse.
“So… where are you from if you're not from Earth?” Kit asked, trying to loosen the tension. The robot remained unphased by the question from what Kit could see. He remained completely still, all four optics staring intensely at the boy. The robot finally responded to the question but the interference was so bad and the word was unfamiliar enough that Kit couldn’t make out what he was trying to say. Kit raised his eyes from the blaster and looked up at the robot and made eye contact for the first time. The big red optics were full of a mix of fear and uncertainty, both emotions the boy shared as well. This was definitely not a normal robot from Earth.
A quick glance around at the bot and Kit noticed something that seemed off. Wedged in what looked like the robot’s neck was metal scrap from the wreck. Cut wires were periodically sparking and some strange, bluish liquid seemed to be leaking from the area. Threat level: four, read an updated report after the robot noticed the boy’s attention to the wound. The bot shifted the blaster, reengaging it, the red glow brightening. Kit’s eyes shot back down before wincing in anticipation, “I-I think I can help you! Please don’t shoot!”
“You, help me?” The robot sounded confused, lowering the blaster a few inches. Why does this creature care about my wellbeing?
“There’s a piece of scrap that I think is causing interference with your voice,” Kit explained, “I-if you let me remove it, I’ll be able to understand you better.”
The bot reached at the area that Kit was referring to with his other hand, his fingers grazed the metal shard protruding from his neck. The bot gasped and winced in pain, but ignored it and tried grabbing at the scrap piece. “Ahhh!” the robot groaned loudly as he tried to pull the scrap out.
“Please let me help you so you don’t hurt yourself further!” Kit shouted, A robot who can feel pain and emotions?
“No.” The robot grunted before trying again to remove the scrap metal. And, once again, yelling in pain.
“I promise I won’t hurt you, I just want to help.” Kit urged, “If not, can I at least put my arms down? They’re getting kinda tired.”
“Fine.” The robot lowered the blaster, disengaging it. He changed the blaster back into a hand, and offered it to Kit, “I’ll let you help.”
Surprised, Kit carefully climbed into the robot’s hand which was as big as he was. The bot cautiously brought Kit up to where the scrap was lodged in his neck. The sun was just below the horizon, giving Kit enough light to see what the scrap was caught on. Kit grabbed at the piece causing the bot to wince and groan. Threat level: five, warning.
“Sorry, I’ll try to be more careful,” Kit apologized, “This will hurt a little bit but I’ll try my best to make it not as bad.”
He reached for the scrap again, this time being much more careful after seeing just how sensitive the area was. Kit grabbed hold of the metal piece, the bot winced as Kit gently pulled on the piece, carefully rotating and angling it around the wires. The scrap piece was almost fully out when Kit accidentally bumped it against a wire that was missing a large part of protective covering. Threat level: eight! Danger! Shouting in pain, the robot pulled Kit away, throwing him to the ground several feet below. Kit landed without injury, managing to roll out of the way from the robot’s fit.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Kit yelled up to the bot, who had stood up to distance himself from the boy. Kit didn’t realize just how big the bot was until now, staring up at the over twenty-five foot tall robot towering over him. The robot’s grunts and groans were already sounding much clearer, even with them echoing so much inside the warehouse. After he had calmed down a bit, the robot looked down as Kit, an obvious glare on his face as he was processing how to respond to what his analysis was calling an attack.
“I swear it was an accident,” Kit tried to explain, “My hands slipped. If you want I could try guiding you to get it out the rest of the way.”
Threat level: six, warning. He relaxed his face, and knelt back down closer to Kit’s level. “Are you sure?”
“I’m absolutely positive,” Kit assured him, “You’re already sounding much better.”
The robot offered Kit his hand again, bringing the boy closer and using his other hand to grab the scrap metal. Once again he winced upon contact.
“Okay, now just tilt it slightly up and to the left,” Kit guided. The bot did so, very slowly and groaned in pain when the piece touched the exposed wire again.
“My left, your right, sorry!” Kit exclaimed, clarifying his instructions. The bot made the correction. “Alright now slowly pull in the direction you have it tilted, and… now angle it to your left, and that should do it.”
Sure enough, after Kit corrected his way of giving directions, the robot was easily able to remove the scrap. He held it up to get a better look at what had been causing him so much pain and discomfort. He looked back at the boy, threat level: three.
“Thank you, Kit West.” The robot said without any interference or obstruction of any kind to his voice.
“You can just call me Kit,” the boy replied. “Now, what’s your name?”
“Cobalt.”