Work Text:
The Warden had never been sick before. It didn’t think it could be, for that matter. The vines, try as they may, are unable to manipulate it as they had no soul to cling to, no flesh to burrow in. Just metal.
This parasite though- it was new. It was annoying. Undead running at it underground, crawling up its tower, getting their wet, slimy hands all over its body. The first time they got it, it succumbed easily to the infection, boredly idling in the cell Honey had put it in, thinking about how much time it was losing in its resource gathering mission.
Honey had seemed so annoyed with it. It sparked something inside- a form of shade compiled of code that had failed. It’s instructor was disappointed because the code failed the thing it was supposed to do- which was not a pleasant feeling.
After that initial infection, it came back stronger. Blitzing through the nether, smithing gear into the night, hunched over at the enchanting table as it etched runes into its sword. As was built into its code, The Warden came back twice as strong.
This new lab was strange. The Warden’s lab was familiar- concrete and quartz lined with obsidian making up the facility. It thrummed in response to Warden’s presence, a warm embrace around it.
Here, it was cold. Infected swarmed the walls outside. The Warden was cautious, but not cautious enough. Wet hands wrap around its neck, yanking it backwards as it was shearing a sheep. The infected’s dry, crackled throat hoarsely moans at Warden, blasting it with a cold cloud of rot and stink.
Warden drops the shears and turns around, enchanted blade in hand in an instant. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” It shouts in its indignation, grabbing the thing by its shirt and flinging it out of the sheep pen, the poor creatures bleating in fear.
The infected hits the snow with a wet plap, but is up in an instant, propelled by the cold. Warden vaults the fence, meeting the thing with its blade in a wide arc. It disappears in a puff of stinking air, leaving behind the eggs that infested its brain. Warden dumps those in its inventory, quickly rushing inside the lab to test for infection.
It finds the health scanner in Honey’s things, hands fumbling as it quickly runs the test.
Infected.
“Dammit.” It whispers under its breath, head hanging in that shame as it slinks off to find Honey.
The avian was carving out more cells while also keeping an eye on the new subject. He doesn’t look up as Warden enters the hallway.
“I uh. I’m infected again.” It sheepishly admits, not looking up either. It hears Honey breath out a sigh. “I am… sorry. I wasn’t paying enough attention, I suppose.”
“Again? Come on, Warden.” Honey leans against a concrete wall, blowing a piece of hair out of his face.
“Do I have to sit in the room, or can I go there when it gets bad? I still have stuff to do.” It asks, almost pleading. It didn’t want to waste more time- it wanted to keep being useful in this odd downtime. The new subject- Seven- didn’t seem capable of it, so its use as a guard wasn’t necessary yet.
Honey waves a hand, turning back to his work. “Whatever, just come back when your eyesight goes, I guess.”
The Warden nods, slinking out of the room without another word. It goes to the fields, harvesting wheat to breed the sheep for more beds, for more netherite, for more power. After a while, it can feel its throat start to itch- the first sign.
It pushes on past these weird, somatic symptoms that it had never felt before. Of course the Warden had felt pain- pain when being recoded by that terrible god, pain when it was damaged- pain was just its body responding to things that it could learn from. A key factor in evolution was the want- the need to become stronger than the pain itself. Without, there would be no need to change.
This was a new pain though. A pain that was dry in its throat, crusting into its wires and pumps. Pushing through its systems with a worrying quickness. It was distracting as Warden struggled to focus on its tasks, numbly trading with villagers. They averted their gaze from its eyes, nervously snatching the ores it offered and dropping emeralds into its waiting hand.
Many people reacted the same way- nervously eyeing it as it watched them. It knew that it was uncanny, different from them. It wasn’t a person. It didn’t have a soul. But it did have a horrible tin can body that was apparently susceptible to dry rot eggs.
The infection persists. It crawls into bed after a long day, the ache in its throat making it impossible to speak. It did try to make conversation with Seven but could only gurgle sadly, giving up quickly as tiny daggers dug at its voice box.
When its eyes glitch out is when it drags its ravaged, overheating body into the infection contamination cells. It coughs weakly, feeling its code snag as the infection manages to dig through its wiring. Its left leg loses function, then its right arm. Eventually it manages to completely lose connection to its motor functions and is helpless to cry out as its body is razed from inside out.
The Warden wakes up in its bed, sensors firing as its body is remade by whatever cruel existence has it trapped in this immortal loop. It gets back to work, descending into the lab to dispatch its husk. It can’t manage to look where its own eyes would be- just one quick stab and then it’s over.
Warden stalks out of the building, heading back to the grind. It would have to be more careful from now on, especially if it wanted to complete its mission here- to be a useful machine.