Chapter Text
“Great job out there, Sword!”
“It was nothing, haha-!”
The robot couldn’t resist a chuckle leaving his mouth as his inventor playfully elbowed him in the arm. The pristine blade gripped firmly in his right hand as he bearing it gave it a clean polish. The human buried his face in his arm to avoid the smell of chemicals used by his invention. Did they smell bad? Sword couldn’t help but stare at him for a brief moment. Well, that was kinda expected when one’s knowledge on cleaners consisted of “Makes stuff clean” and “Might make mustard gas if you mess up.”
Wait, was he making mustard gas? Right now? Was the cleaner having a bad reaction with the metal of his weapon? In a jolt of fear, Sword set everything down and held up his hands. The other tilted his head in confusion and moved his own arm away from his face.
“What are you doing??” Sword asked. “What if you die? You know… chemicals! Put your arm back!”
The confusion was quickly replaced by lighthearted laughter, “Sword, there’s no Ammonias or whatnot in there! I promise we’ve specialized it just right for the Defense Division.”
“Oh…”
Sword sighed and pulled the other in for a hug, a very disdained look still being present on his own face. As his inventor reciprocated the action and wrapped his warm arms around his metal body, the warrior remained still. He’d have probably calculated that the reassurement he got would make him feel any better, would it? Apparently not. No emotion could be read on his face now as he simply stood in that hug with no further comment. He looked up for only but a brief moment as the other had that same unwavering smile as he always did when Sword was around.
Beep! Hello, World! Beep!
The mohawked robot activated from within his charging unit with arms wrapped around himself as his eyes lit up that light yet bright red he was always complimented on. The core on his chest was another story; a glowing neon green like no other. Literally; he was the only one who had this core type. Talk of the town- er, company. Sword ejected himself from his charging unit and left the Defense Division’s subquarter with all sorts of conflicting thoughts chugging through his memory like a train.
The only coherent thing right now was to find Ghostwalker.
Sword made his way throughout the building. Ah, Crossroads Incorporated. He’d love to have a bit more admiration for it than he did as of now, but when push comes to shove and shit hits the fan, well oh well. Hey, at least it was still thriving regardless which was fine enough. He’d take it over the other company any day. And wouldn’t it be his lucky five o’clock morning. Nobody aside from the Heavy Work Division was out and doing their jobs yet. One would think that the second ever unit made would be able to navigate the premises like a charm, but the only thing stopping him were his peers always needing him.
He punched his unit ID into the entry gate prompt for the Maintenance Division’s head room and awaited the loud opening of the doors. The robot entered looking all around as the place was pretty reasonably empty for the hour; the only other automaton in the room was the one with the two sets of red horns he could not remember the name of at the time being. She waited there on one of the fancy leather chairs the creators budgeted into every room for some reason, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground.
“Icedagger doesn’t wake up until like, ten.”
“Eh!?” Her head snapped towards Sword, having not even realized he was there, “Shiiiit… whoopsy-daisy!! Today is SunDay~!!”
He narrowed his eyes, “Are you… like… okay?”
“I understand completely~!! Yes… hehe… I’ll be on my way~!!”
…There is something so wrong with that voice. Didn't they have a near identical interaction just last week? Sword tried to push it back into his head; there were certainly more important things to him right now than a maintenance robot who might have a damaged charging unit. She promptly got up from her chair and stumbled past him in a drunken-esque manner. A clank could be heard as she didn’t seem to notice that she bumped into him. Well, whatever. Maybe he should strike a convo with her later and ask if she’s alright.
Hey, at least the seat’s been emptied now, so Sword simply decided to plop himself down where the other had been. His eyes were quite quickly drawn to the nearby calendar like a moth to a lamp, scanning it to see that it had been Sunday indeed. Maybe there was some super awesome thing going on in this division that he in the Defense Division didn’t have to worry about for now. Actually, when was the last time he got a malware checkup? Was Medkit operating at these hours?
The running of his memory was cut a little short as he heard the doors to the division open up. Turning his head, Sword spotted the top mechanic he had been waiting for. Ghostwalker stood at the gate, whole body obscured by something they were wheeling in but everyone would have known it couldn’t have been anybody else. The human made haste as he moved down the alley of the small waiting spot, not paying much attention to how it messed around with the rug.
“Hey- what’s going on?” Sword couldn’t resist the curiosity, and this along with his burning questions led him to follow after the inventor of many. It was just the ordinary workshop, obviously, but it always felt so ethereal anyways. His friends! Himself! All made here! Wow! He watched with eyes curious as ever as Ghostwalker set the wheeled object to the needed place, exhaling as they carefully took off the white blanket that had been covering it. The warrior gazed at the sight underneath in bewilderment.
In front of both of their very eyes was another robot Sword had never seen before. Gorgeous blue horns decorated the sides of her head despite one of them being very broken, wires poking out and everything. Some parts of his limbs were much more damaged than others, seeming as though her mechanic must have just used whatever they could find that very second to patch him back up. Her “normal” metallic outsides were also very under the weather, dirt and chipping everywhere aside from the area under his goggles and presumably the blue bandana around her neck as well. His shooting star tank top was surprisingly in good condition but one of her pant legs was mostly ripped off, even missing a shoe on that foot as well.
There’s a surprisingly large amount of ways to say that one is speechless, but in this case, a simple error code 266 would do.
Ghostwalker extended his arm out to the automaton and found the power button underneath the bandana. Sword watched in anticipation as the mechanic stood back and waited for a response from the stranger. And a response he did give.
Beep! Hello, World! Beep!
“-Z̵͇̪͉̉̾̓̀̀̉͠Ù̵̢͓̌͐̚̕Ṳ̴̔͌UUKA!!!”
The robot clutched herself on that surface she had been propped to in a horrifyingly tight manner. The weary arms of his seemed like they could very well fall apart as the blue lights emanating from her powered on eyes flickered so intensely from her damages that it felt like desperation in a sense. Sword’s innate programming to protect kicked in like a kangaroo as he ran forward to try and comfort him, only to be stopped by Ghostwalker grabbing his arm. Sword’s eyes stayed glued to the pained regardless; if he had a stomach, it would undeniably be turning and churning as that agony invoked in him an emotion that he felt very strongly to when-
Click!
That sweet sound of a specialized music box permeated through the room. Sword and the stranger alike could feel their energy draining despite it not at all. A calming haze began to form in their visions as both of them had calmed down almost instantly. Well… the other did take a bit longer, of course.
Ghostwalker turned off the music, “You are in good hands at Crossroads… tell me your name.”
He took a little bit to calculate a response. Sword still felt quite hazy but the haywire behavior from this subject seemed to have snapped her out of the trance quicker.
“The-e-e-y call me RROCKET!”
Forget what he had thought about the robot waiting before him. This was horrendous.
“Um-”
Sword was promptly cut off, “Did She put a core on you?”
“N-N-NON.”
“Be still for a moment, then. This will only be a few seconds.”
“WHAT- NO! STÒ̶͖͕̥͍͙̜̈́̌͛͠P̵̧̗̺̳̻̒͑ !”
Sword stood there uncomfortably as he watched the mechanic take a cold, grey core out of their own pocket and carefully flipped Rocket over to her backside. She squirmed quite a bit and, to the Defense sanctioned robot’s surprise, never let up. The blue clothed one was somewhat akin to a mound of ash— as if just one wrong breath of wind in the sky could demolish him in her entirety. But as Ghostwalker had stated, the process is one that is very short-lived, and Rocket was flipped back over with that mortified expression plastered on his face.
“L'ENLEVER!!” He shouted at them in unyielding exasperation, “L'ENLEVER!!”
All that Rocket got for a response was an unburdened “C’est la vie.”
Ghostwalker’s attention quickly turned to Sword, who was still processing.
“I have matters to attend to at the moment. I ask that you keep Rocket company. Show him around.”
What a turmoil. And he couldn’t even discuss the matter he desired to in the first place. But maybe that was for the better. The bladed robot was certainly happy to keep the newbie company.
“Yes sir!” He declared.
The inventor simply nodded and walked off, grabbing a clipboard on his way. Sword turned to face Rocket once more, who had been uncomfortably trying to grab and scratch at the newly placed core to desperately get it off. Wow, he… really really wasn’t letting up. The warrior approached her with caution and smiled with a friendly wave and kind hello. Rocket had finally begun to hesitate, and even if he still didn’t fully trust this one, soon wound down at the more friendly face.
“My name is Sword. I won’t hurt you! I promise!”