Chapter Text
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MANKIND IS DEAD.
Mostly.
You can’t be certain if there is a future for mankind, after all, it’s better to focus on the present. Right now, you are the only thing in the present. The only truly human thing left, to your knowledge.
The New Peace had been a time to start over. No more bloodshed, no more endless wars. Of course, you personally hadn’t experienced the majority of the great wars, but had lived during the time of peace that followed. However, peace could only last so long when left in the hands of humanity.
When facilities had begun to be attacked and the machines turned on humans in search of fuel, some humans had been evacuated deeper into Hell. These factions had a bit more of a chance at survival when they weren’t being directly targeted by whatever organism was Hell itself.
As time carried on however, factions split up, died out completely, or just vanished. You had been separated from your faction around a year ago with no trace of them since, or any signs of organic life.
By sheer luck, you’re still alive today, hiding out in some sort of monument in the Greed layer.
During the day time, the sands were hot enough to melt off your flesh if you got within even a foot of the seemingly endless deserts. Not to mention the sun adding extra heat to the mixture and an extra risk of developing heat stroke.
So you had become basically nocturnal at this point, waiting out the sweltering days inside of whatever buildings or ruins remained.
Currently, you can tell the sun is on its way down based on the long sunbeams being cast through the cracks in the somewhat functioning door of the place.
Your plan is simple: Wait for nightfall, find a way out of the current monument, and head off in search of loot.
Your backpack is pretty well stocked, currently holding a few emergency meals, cans of beans, more cans of beans, a water purifying kit, granola, pre-purified water bottles, and various scraps for bandages and simple tools. The death of humanity has really made you quite the survival expert.
As the sun continues on its journey below the horizon, you’re starting to feel the air get cooler. Your skin has started to feel less sticky, which is always a welcome feature of the dry nights in greed.
The sun has faded and the monument has been plunged into darkness, your eyes adjusting while you collect your things. You only had a sleeping bag, a water bottle, and a rag out so it doesn’t take long to organize your bag and prepare for another long night of exploring.
Best case scenario, you found a faction camp from humans that still had food or water somewhere in it. Worse case scenario, as always, tonight could be the night you die.
You push the grim reminder out of your head and stand up, stretching your legs and arms briefly before throwing on the heavy backpack. It adds an extra twenty-five or so pounds to your person, mostly thanks to the sheer amount of water you have to carry. It’s a bit of a scarce resource in a place where things generally don’t drink water.
They drink blood. Like all of the blood inside of your body. You’re like a free drinking fountain to them. It’s free real estate for anything that can get its hands on you.
Countless thoughts of dying fill your head, as usual, as you wait for the automated door to scrape its way open, luckily without alerting any creatures. In fact, it’s quite empty around the ruins you’re in tonight, at least compared to the usual activities of hellspawn that also take advantage of the lack of heat during the night. It’s a bit strange, but you’ll take all the luck you can get. Less things means less chances of dying this evening.
Your feet sink into the sand as you begin your trek, and you try your best to keep it from getting into your boots by wrapping cloth scraps around the flaps at the top.
It’s a long walk to the next bunch of ruins, but you can see the silhouette of one large pyramid-ish building in the distance. You swear you can see far off flames too, though you remind yourself that fires aren’t exactly uncommon in one of the literal hottest layers of hell.
The hike itself is rather uneventful with the lack of hungry creatures roaming the stretching hills, but without the periodic stops and detours you usually take to hide, you find yourself more tired out than usual. Surviving is hard. Is it even worth it if no one’s left? No family? Nothing left except the fear that one day, in the near future, you will die?
You’re having morbid thoughts again. You think about how nice it would be to have a therapist right about now. Some kind of support.
Feeling dragged down both physically and mentally, you decide it wouldn’t hurt to rest. The moon is only about halfway in the sky and you’re already more than halfway to the next cluster of ruins.
You unravel a slightly torn tapestry from your backpack to sit on. It has some sort of figure on it, resembling those statues that hold the glowing orbs. One time in your past, you had sworn that you saw it move. You had, of course, booked it.
You sigh, yet again unable to think of any good memories, even from before your days of wandering. A sealed bag of granola from earlier helps to take your mind off of things for a bit, while you enjoy the slight breeze of the desert. In all honesty, the greed layer is a pretty peaceful place during the nights when you can actually sit down and take them in.
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You aren’t sure exactly how much time has passed since you sat down, but the moon is getting worryingly close to the horizon. Reluctantly but swiftly, you close your still unfinished pack of granola and shake off the tapestry, rolling it up and shoving it into your compact bag.
This time, your pace is a bit faster. You somewhat regret taking that break, as it means you probably won’t even get a chance to explore the new ruins today. All that mattered was finding adequate shelter before the sun rose.
The stretch of mostly sand and more sand in between you and the buildings continues to get shorter, as well as more visible. The sun is rising.
Your pace quickens to a jog, or at least as fast of a run as you can manage with twenty-five extra pounds on your back, breaking into a sweat even in the cooler, and currently rising, temperatures of the night.
The first building you encounter on the outskirts of the once flourishing city has all of its windows broken and walls cracking. It would make a horrible shelter.
The next two smell strongly of rot and corpses. One of them even has a corpse still in it, mostly rotted and shrivelled. Seemingly the corpse of some kind of machine, though its mechanical insides are strewn about and dried up blood provides the awful smell that makes your eyes water.
You go from ruin to ruin, some seeming more like shrines and others more like traditional houses. They’re all in terrible shape. You start to feel your body getting warmer with each failed attempt, whether it be from the sun creeping up the dunes or just from the sheer stress you’re experiencing.
Usually you try to avoid the larger buildings. They tend to be a lot more unstable and there’s a higher chance of mechanical creatures roaming around inside.
There’s still at least ten buildings you haven’t taken a look at yet. However, you’re already gasping for breath from running between the ruins. Despite your better judgement, you start to climb the stairs of the giant pyramid next to you. It’s in the best condition compared to the other buildings, some of which are more like piles of rubble and probably have nothing worthwhile inside.
Sweat sticks to your forehead as you drag yourself up the steps, praying that you can beat the sun. Its beams have already begun to stretch across the dunes, reaching for you to drag you back down.
You reach the top of the steps, exhausted, your legs moving forward almost robotically. I can’t stop moving , you tell yourself. The door you’re met with is carved with pictures of the creatures that roam hell, as are the walls surrounding it. They’re oddly detailed and beautiful, it’s hard to imagine any kind of hellspawn made them.
The door slides open effortlessly and automatically, without so much as a squeak. It’s well maintained… very well maintained. Your stomach sinks at the thought that something might be living in here, something smart enough to keep sand out of the mechanics that powered the doors, but those thoughts barely have enough time to form as you stumble inside.
It’s quiet and dark. The only light in the corridor is emanating from green flames on top of tiki torches. You fling your bag down and slump to the ground. The floor is covered in sand and it sticks to your body, but you couldn’t care less.
You lean up against the wall, breathing heavily and grabbing a cloth from inside your bag to wipe the sweat from your face.
The fuzz in your brain starts to lift, slowly, and you finally get a chance to take in the room around you. There’s the bright green flames lighting up the room, as well as what you know to be a jump pad of sorts. The ones you had previously encountered had been mostly broken, and just made your body feel a bit lighter. This one is glowing so bright it hurts your eyes.
After a long while of rest, you finally stand back up. Sitting on centuries old bricks and piles of sand isn’t the most comfortable thing.
Slinging your backpack over your shoulders again, you approach the jump pad and look up. There’s a giant tunnel going upwards, right above the pad. You can’t even see the roof.
Surely it can’t launch you that high.
Not a lot of debating has to be done before you decide to step onto it. You experimentally place one foot down and before you know it, you’re flying through the air.
Your mind starts screaming immediately and your body curls up tight, instinctively bracing for a long, painful fall. You immediately regret giving in to your curiosity.
With your eyes closed, you don’t see anything as your body hits the ground. You roll forward a bit, and your body aches. However, you aren’t broken nor dead.
You lay down for a minute, thinking about your near death experience just now.
You’re met with another door, which already opened when you rolled on the ground towards it, and more green torches in the following room.
You can see a bit of warm light in the next hallway.
Sighing heavily and standing up with a groan, you opt to drag your bag behind you this time. It drags piles of sand in front of it too, but you couldn’t care less at this point. You just need to find somewhere safe, preferably with food or water, and with no creatures wandering around.
The warm light in the next hallway is coming from piles of sand that pour through what were formerly windows. The sand is bright and golden, shining its burning light through the ruined room. Pillars have fallen, blocking the way around the sand piles. Great.
You haul yourself into the room, which is much warmer and brighter than the previous rooms. One of the pillars that are sprawled across the floor, cracked and broken, blocks your way, forcing you to toss your bag over it with all of your might and then pull yourself over top of it after.
Sweating and gritting your teeth, you slink exhaustedly through the rest of the hall before emerging into another sunlit room.
This time, the windows allow the sunlight to fly into the room unfiltered, without any glass even blocking the slits in the stone walls.
However, the heat and brightness aren’t what catch your eye. There’s water, flowing through small channels.
You leave your bag on the floor behind you and run up to one of the channels, plunging your hands in. It’s clear and not exactly cool, but you splash it onto your face gratefully. This would be perfect. Seemingly infinite water? The thought excites you enough to motivate you onwards. So far, there were no corpses, no creatures, no blood. It was a well maintained place, and it could be perfect.
You excitedly pull your bag back on, ignoring the soreness. There’s a short flight of stairs leading up to a much larger door, with an ominous skull and glowing yellow lights. If that isn’t foreboding, you don’t know what is,
You glance back at the clear water, part of you wishing you could just stay here. However, the heat from the direct sunbeams is already starting to make you feel faint again. The water plus sun made it rather humid here too.
Despite your better judgement, you approach the door, and it slides open like the others, revealing a huge room. There’s four large bonfires burning in pans, regular fire colors this time, as well as more giant murals on the walls. They all depict the stone creature with the glowing orb in the same position.
In the center is a lonely throne. It’s empty. You have to admit, it looks a little out of place in the giant room. Maybe it’s a trap? But then again, what kind of trap is a fancy chair?
You waltz up to the seat slowly, watching it closely and inspecting for any kind of hidden trapdoors. Nothing.
You even plop your bag down on the stone seat. Still nothing.
A quick glance around the room reveals, yet again, nothing. This worries you more than there being something here. It’s too clean. Too quiet. Too peaceful. Too… perfect.
You also begin to realize that, like the rooms before it, it is much too hot. Four giant fire pits and being in proximity of a room with sunlight pouring in unfiltered doesn’t exactly make for a cooler temperature room.
Your excitement in the water had distracted you. Your knees feel weak again and your mind blurs. You’ve never been in the heat for this long before. All the other ruins you had been to had at least some kind of shade.
You feel too weak to do anything, even search your bag for water. Not like it wouldn’t be burning hot as well anyways.
You sit on the floor, your head starting to feel lighter than usual. The corners of your vision get darker. You wonder if this is it, the end of your life. Dying alone, in the middle of this supposed throne room. Your head rolls onto the side of the seat as everything fades. Part of you is screaming to get up, while the other part of you is ready to give in, finally, to the heat.
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You wake up sweaty. Drenched. You’re laying on the floor of the throne room still, staring up at the carefully carved ceiling.
Your head hurts more than anything. It’s still bright as all hell in the room, but you can tell that at least one of the fire pits has gone out in the right corner.
You touch your aching head, but instead of touching skin, your hand meets cloth. You pick a wet piece of cloth off of your head. It’s soaked with water, in fact, so are the rest of your clothes. What you previously had assumed was just a bucketload of sweat covering you was actually a crap ton of water.
You press the cloth back onto your head, grateful for the slight amount of cooling it provides you. The floor all around you is wet as well, a huge puddle soaking several feet out from your body.
The fog in your brain has started to clear finally, though the headache still persists. Sitting up, your back leans up against the back of the stone chair.
You didn’t remember passing out back here.
In fact, you didn’t remember passing out drenched in water either.
Your bag is nowhere to be seen, and you frantically stand up, forgetting the pain in your head and limbs. It seems you have company.
One of the fire pits is burnt out in the corner, as you suspected, with small tendrils of smoke still flowing into the air from the coals. It was put out recently.
The door behind you slides open seamlessly. It echoes, announcing a new presence in the room with you.
Your blood runs cold and you whip around, fear taking control of your body completely. You drop the cloth you were holding to your forehead. You had come face to face with enemies before, but whatever just came in the room had done so through the only entrance and exit.
The door slides shut again behind the figure, which is glowing rather brightly from some kind of yellow beams coming out from behind it. It looks unlike any of the other machines and monsters you’ve encountered in hell so far, sporting a metal, slim, and rather humanoid body. Its head, if it can even be called that, is shaped like some kind of security camera, like the ones in the old facilities. There’s one bright yellow light shining from somewhere inside the “camera” shell.
It stops in its tracks when it sees you. The yellow beams protruding from behind it point upwards and out, making the figure appear both brighter and larger. It’s holding your backpack, open and with scraps flowing out of the bulging zipper seams.
The two of you stare at each other for a while, waiting for someone to make a move. You can’t tell if it’s afraid of you or not, in fact you don’t see why it would be. It could easily beat you in a fight, and by the looks of it, it’s a former human creation. The only thing that stands out is its left arm, or lack thereof. Cut wires were hanging out of the hole in its shoulder, presumably dead.
Finally, it twitches its wings, lowering them again and starting to move towards you. It tilts its head as it approaches, staring at you and burning the bright light of its “eye” into your vision.
Weakness returns to your body once again, and you pray that your legs move somewhere, at least a bit. You could get a new bag. New water, new rations, new everything, except for a new chance at life.
To your own annoyance and horror, your feet stay planted and the machine comes closer to you. It plops your open bag on the throne without looking, still staring at you with a tilted head.
It stops only a few feet from you and leans forward, pushing its head closer to yours. It stares deeply into your eyes with its artificial light. Two metal eyelids close on the light, making the machine appear as if it’s squinting. It looks you over, perhaps sizing you up, before pulling its head back and turning away from you.
You hadn’t realized it, but at some point your body had started shaking. You regain your composure as it turns away. Maybe… it wasn’t going to kill you? Still, it’s a stretch in your mind.
With it closer to you now, you can see that the metal plating making up the creature’s body is a deep red color, and the text “V2” is inscribed onto its chestplate.
It reaches over to the ground and picks up the cloth scrap you had dropped earlier. It’s soaked even more now from the puddle, and picked up some grains of sand from the floor. The machine pushes the cloth towards your chest, incentivising you to grab it rather aggressively.
Pulling your mind out of its stupified state, you reach out and take the dripping material. The robot retracts its arm quickly, shaking water off of its hand before reaching towards your bag.
No words have been exchanged between you too. You couldn’t even tell if it could form words, as the only sounds you had heard from it so far was the low buzzing of its internal mechanisms.
It pulls out one of your water bottles. There’s fresh water dripping off of the sides and little grains of sand floating around inside. It seems like the creature had just gone off to fill your bottles with water from those canals while you were passed out.
Rather suddenly, it flips the bottle upside down over your head, and the entire contents of the bottle splash out on top of you, soaking into your hair.
You cover your face with your hands and back away, shouting, “Stop! Stop it!” in protest between gargles of sandy water flowing into your mouth.
It quickly withdraws its arm, holding the half-empty bottle very tightly and staring at you quizzically. At least it had listened to you.
Wiping water off of your face and feeling some drip down your head, you ask, “Are you trying to drown me or something? What are you doing?!”
You weren’t expecting a response, more so just complaining as you would when something in general went wrong. Its synthetic voice takes you off guard, speaking perfectly with an eerie digital inflection, the kind of text-to-speech that borders on uncanny valley.
“OBJECTIVE: DEFEND SPECIES TYPE-HUMAN; ERROR OBSERVED: HUMAN BODY TEMPERATURE HAS REACHED ALARMINGLY HIGH LEVELS. RECOMMENDED APPROACH: LOWER HUMAN BODY TEMPERATURE TO LOWER RISK OF MALFUNCTION. INTERNAL DATA BANKS HAVE PROVIDED THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION: Evaporative cooling occurs as non-evaporated liquid molecules are left with a lower kinetic energy, thus lowering the temperature of the liquid. Humans produce sweat to assist in maintaining their body temperature through evaporative cooling.”
The information was thrown at you all at once, the mechanical voice not needing to pause to take any breaths. You didn’t register half of the words the machine spewed at you, but you did take note of the fact that its objective was to “defend humans”.
This confirms your suspicion that the robot was created by mankind, presumably during the new peace when more defensive machines were produced over offensive ones. Still, during your short time living through the new peace, you had never seen a robot of this model type. It’s eerily human, you observe, both physically and mechanically.
Perhaps it’s due to the fact that you haven’t seen or interacted with any other humans in a while, but the machine seems to have a personality of its own. Curiosity, maybe empathy? Or just its programming forcing it to help keep you alive.
It starts to extend its arm again to pour more water over you. You hurriedly push its hand away from you.
“No- no, I’m good, I’m okay. No more.” You shake your head at it to make sure it gets the memo this time while continuing to push the bottle away. It stares at you with its bright yellow optic, two metal “eyelid” plates shifting up from the casing to mimic a squint again.
It tosses the half-full bottle behind it, maintaining aggressive eye contact without blinking, as robots do. The plastic lands with an echoing crash, sending the remaining water splashing onto the floor and wall.
Okay. That bottle is most definitely cracked and unusable now, and the war robot has some kind of vendetta against you. You sigh heavily. It isn't violent at least but, damn, it’s petty.
Trying to ignore its piercing glare for the meantime, you walk over to the throne with your bag sitting on top, wide open. All of your bottles are on the top of the pile, still dripping wet and preventing the backpack from closing. In fact, one of the zippers appears to have been snapped off.
Pulling out sandy water bottle after sandy water bottle, you finally find what you're looking for. That old bag of granola from last night.
You snatch it out, opening the little pouch and shoving some in your mouth. It’s close to nightfall now, and you haven’t eaten or drank since last night.
Sadly, none of the many water bottles that you emptied from the backpack are safe to drink. It seems like that robot had unknowingly poured all of it onto you while you were passed out earlier. Most of the water on the ground has already dried out, leaving only a humid memory of the fresh, lukewarm water.
Speaking of the robot, you’re reminded that it’s still here. Watching you.
You turn around to look at it again. This time, you aren’t frozen in horror. It has its single arm crossed over its body, staring at you with its top eyelid still down. You can’t help but get the feeling that you’re being judged.
You mirror it, crossing your arms and furrowing your brow, granola bag still in one hand. The two of you observe each other for a long, silent period. You notice only the bright light of its eye shifting ever so slightly now and then to look you up and down. You, in turn, stare back at it, noting every scratch and dent on its plating, as well as the strange way that the left arm is broken off. The plating left on its shoulder is jagged in a way that should’ve at least been smoothed by its automatic healing, presuming that it has that function.
Finally, you break away from the eye contact. It’s been going on for far too long, and you were starting to notice very minute details and behaviors. An obvious sign that maybe you were looking too closely.
You glance off momentarily before closing the granola, which you had barely eaten, and turning back to your overflowing bag. Doing your best to pack everything back down to how it was before it had been tampered with, that robotic voice rings out through the large room again.
“INQUIRY: WHAT ARE YOU DOING.”
The machine’s voice cuts off immediately after its question, which sounds a bit more like a statement. Straining to pull the bag shut with one regular zipper and the broken one, you announce, “It’s nightfall. I’m preparing to leave, I’m going to the next city over.”
To you, it seems pretty obvious what you’re doing. Your annoyance only grows as one of the zippers comes to a full stop, and won’t budge no matter how you tug on it. You wished you could’ve just stayed here. There was running water and almost no monsters. Save for one singular, red one that didn’t seem to want you here.
“CORRECTION: MY OBJECTIVE IS TO PROTECT YOU. THIS PALACE HAS OPTIMAL SURVIVAL CONDITIONS ACCORDING TO DATA AND I MUST BE ABLE TO PROTECT YOU. YOU ARE TO STAY WITHIN PROXIMITY OF ME.”
The machine had made its way in front of you as it had spoken, and was now standing directly in front of you. It sounds more like an order than a “correction” to you, and that thought isn’t helped as it places its hand onto your arm. It’s cold metal, and it almost feels nice, but you know that it could crush your arm if it really wanted to.
Being protected would be nice, perhaps a bit of company too. It stares at you without blinking, holding uncanny eye contact. Some part of you is worried, afraid even. This is a machine built for war, it could crush you within seconds. It’s cold and calculated, running only on its code.
The other part of you doesn’t want to leave it. If you leave, you would just be alone again. Sure it’s not exactly mortal, but something about the machine feels… human. It also feels cold, physically, which would be nice to have all the time.
You slowly draw your arm away from your bag, and the robotic hand on your arm lets go of you in turn. It tilts its metal head slightly, expecting your answer.
You cross your arms, facing the red creature fully. “I’ll stay, but you need to help me get food and water. And no more pouring it over my head, I’ll teach you how to use a purifier. You just need to carry out your “objective”, right?” You ask, lifting one eyebrow. Your reasoning is that it can protect you and help with scavenging, and it can’t really say no. That’s what its purpose was, and still is.
It nods eagerly in agreement. Maybe it's been lonely too. The thought passes through your head briefly, before you dismiss it. It’s a robot. It doesn’t get “lonely”. It's just one step closer to finishing its task.
Before you can say anything else, it says in a slightly inquiring tone, “FUEL? I WILL PROTECT YOU AND YOU WILL GIVE ME FUEL.” It nods at you again, urging you to agree.
You hesitate. Fuel to these machines is blood. It surely won’t take all of your blood, since that is far from protecting you, but it’s still… your blood.
Then again, it makes sense in your mind that it would want something in return for defending your life from here on out. You wouldn’t want to take advantage of its help.
With a heavy sigh, you nod back. You shouldn’t be feeling bad for it, and you yet again remind yourself that it’s just a chunk of metal and code. However, it seems rather pleased with your answer for a chunk of metal and code.
Having given up on your backpack issues earlier, you unzip it fully to reevaluate your supplies. Whilst rummaging through your bag and taking mental notes of your stock, the machine asks, “WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE FOR ME TO REFER TO YOU AS? THIS INFORMATION WILL BE ADDED TO MY INTERNAL DATABANK FOR FUTURE REFERENCE.”
You assume that it’s asking for your name, and you respond, “Just… call me whatever. I don’t have a name.” It’s a blatant lie, but deep down it feels true. You haven’t heard your name spoken aloud in years, to the point where it doesn’t even feel like you anymore in your head. You don’t even know yourself anymore.
Maybe that’s why you’re so desperate to have company. Something familiar.
“Do you have a name? Machine type?” You ask, pulling yourself away from those thoughts of longing. You haven’t seen anything like this robot in your journeys through greed, and you hadn’t heard of it being produced in the past.
“MACHINE ID: V2. I AM THE SECOND EDITION OF THE V SERIES, OPTIMIZED TO PROTECT IN COMBAT AND WITH THE OBJECTIVE TO DEFEND. I AM THE SUPREME MACHINE.”
Its robotic tone has a hint of arrogance. That background partially explains the large ego, since it was apparently created to be better than its predecessor. This gets you thinking. Is the first edition still out there? Is it friendly too?
You redirect your thoughts back to the robot in front of you. Wondering won’t do much for you right now.
“So… “V2” ... If you’re going to be protecting me, then you need to learn how to help me survive. I’m surprised that none of your data banks could tell you that this will not do.” You say, showing one of the plastic bottles to the robot, shaking the water so that the particles float around inside. It stares at you rather blankly.
“HUMANS CONSUME WATER TO SURVIVE.”
You nod slowly. V2 had been spewing out facts about evaporation or whatever earlier, and yet it doesn’t know that people can’t drink dirty water. It seems so sure of itself too, stating the obvious fact that people drink water.
“Yes… but, this water is dirty. Humans don’t drink sand. This is probably contaminated too, we don’t know what kinds of filth have been in this water.”
V2 looks over to the side, rolling their optic in a bored manner. The audacity of this robot! It already agreed to help you, it doesn’t need to be so smug about it. You’re starting to regret choosing this one as your companion. The only thing in hell that isn’t out to kill you, and yet it already finds you insufferable.
“DATA BANKS WILL BE UPDATED WITH NEW INFORMATION. SUGGESTION FOR HUMAN: PROVIDE CLARIFICATION ON HOW TO MAKE THE WATER CONSUMABLE FOR ORGANICS. OBJECTIVE CANNOT BE PROGRESSED WITHOUT THIS INFORMATION.”
They stare at you hard as they drone off their “suggestion”, with its one arm situated on its hip.
You cannot stress enough to yourself how tiring this is going to be. The two of you aren’t even at an hour of conversation yet and their ego is already crushed. If it could’ve, it probably would’ve just spat on you too. Or killed you.
With a heavy sigh and no other words, you shuffle through your bag to find the contraption that helps you purify water. You had been given this a long while ago when you had been released with your team, and it’s a miracle that it has survived this long without getting broken or straight up lost.
You motion to V2 to follow you towards the giant door that they had come through earlier. The sandstone slides open effortlessly again, and you have to assume that the only reason this building is in such nice shape is because of V2. They’re at least a little smarter than the other creatures of hell, and most of their data is probably about the kinds of mechanisms found in these buildings. After all, they’re just a much more complicated mechanism.
The hallway outside is cooler, and the sun is gone now. You aren’t able to relish in the moonlight peeking through the wall for long though, as you can clearly hear V2 moving over towards you and can feel them staring at you, waiting.
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The next couple of minutes are just you purifying water like you normally do, while V2 watches you in a bored manner. They better be recording this damn information. The contraption takes a couple seconds to filter everything as well, so it’s just human and machine sitting in silence for a while.
Finally, your result is one (mostly) filled bottle of filtered water. You show it to V2 so they can see clearly that this is what drinkable water should look like.
They snatch the bottle from your hand with such force that it surprises you, and they stare at it, inspecting the liquid closely. You can hear their internals spinning and whirring as they process the information.
The bottle is shoved back into your arms and V2 nods. “DATA BANKS UPDATED WITH NEW INFORMATION. OBJECTIVE RESUMED.”
It simply turns and starts to walk back up the flight of stairs to the skull door again. Its voice sounded flatter and more robotic again, dismissing this little teaching session.
Annoyed, you follow closely behind them. At the very least, they had the information recorded now. The only other thing on your mind is sleep.
You are exhausted . Your body has been in overdrive for a while now, ready to break into fight or flight mode at any moment. Not to mention, the closest thing you’d had to rest today had been when you had passed out or had been squatting down next to the stream a few minutes ago.
Needless to say, you are desperate for some sleep.
You reach your bag before V2, having sped up past them. Most of the contents have been gutted, since it was half full of water bottles, so it isn’t hard for you to find the sleeping bag from your originally provided materials.
You start to lay it onto the ground before you’re interrupted by V2’s obnoxiously loud voice.
“SUGGESTION: IF YOU ARE PLANNING TO REST, IT IS RECOMMENDED TO PLACE YOUR SLEEPING BAG ON THE CHAIR. IT IS MUCH MORE HYGENIC AND COULD BE CONSIDERED MORE COMFORTABLE.”
They pick up your bag and place the loose water bottles onto the ground one by one with its one arm, clearing the chair for you to sleep on.
“Isn’t that your throne or something? Aren’t you going to sit there?”
It shakes its head. “CORRECT, HOWEVER I AM WILLING TO OFFER IT TO YOU FOR REST. YOUR HUMAN BODY IS TIRED.”
V2 had one thing right at least, and you’ve found yourself too tired to argue. You nod gratefully at this singular kind gesture, and have to admit to yourself that the chair is much more comfortable compared to the sandy floors you’ve had to sleep on for the past hundreds of nights.
As you settle in, your body finally starts to stop aching and your mind can stop racing. You’re safer than you’ve ever been. V2 stations themselves behind the throne, leaning against the stone backrest and “crossing” their one arm. Every now and then, they glance back at you, then quickly away again.
You sink into sleep almost as soon as you close your eyes, a comforting darkness taking you accompanied by the soft hum of robotic parts and warm light from yellow wings.