Giganto, the city of giants where hopes and dreams are brought to fruition through hard work and dedication. Yet today another dream has been buried.
The capital city of Gottenfall, nation of fire, was encapsulated by a bronze wall. Originally constructed as a simple fortress ring around a mountain that has long crumbled, more rings bloomed to give birth to a circular city of neat steel pillars. Neon lights pierced the heavens and through the walls of each district; even the most archaic and treasured central tower wasn't safe. Always alive always active. That was the only way to describe the citadel of light with the country of dreamers. For Lena that feeling was also shared. Hundreds of hovering cars and buses buzzed overhead piloted by nobody. Robots of every model and make lurked around every corner; the population was still smaller than the millions of humans.
Everywhere Lena went she was surrounded by the rays of color. Blinding beams and booming beats from every bar and club in the entertainment district. Black streets were littered with plastics which they were constructed from. Flyers and bottles in every thin alleyway left a bitter smell. Monitor droids and automated vacuums cleaned, well, more along pushing the problem along not to hinder their customer base. Clouds whispered to life yet the laughing didn't die. It wouldn't for them, for this night was an eternity.
The young girl sulked with eyes locked on the passing puddles along the road through the streaks of red hair. She skated in and out of crowds, around the corners on her way home after another failed day of job hunting. Her finger pressed against her forehead going through her savings account on her neuragear. A cranial implant popularized in recent decades as a replacement for clunky phones. Currently, few tech giants dabbled with the technology and only a few patents existed.
"Ah….seven hundred drams," her accounts ran low once more. With the month's end bills poked their head around the corner. Rent, food, power, even the fees for all of her augmentations were getting out of hand. Lena spoke out loud to herself. "Guess I'll stop at Strider's place again."
While she slid the comparison of the city of her own home's industry never left her brain, Mandaly of the eastern border. Imagining a cold-brewed beer to take the stress off made Lena zone out. She crashed, "Oww- Hey!-" she wisely held her tongue. This was no ordinary machine, a humanoid that lacked faux skin and was colored in signature yellow and black. A police division machine locked their cyclops eye on her. It was tall, a height which any man dreamed of with a body mirroring a human's anatomy; a circulator system of oil accompanied by a heart that pumped magic throughout their structure. "Sorry I wasn't looking where I was going."
Lena admitted her folly to the PD unit. It simply bowed, with a quick turn she saw they were an older model. PD5.0-01550. The machine had no words for her, only recording the moderately tall woman with red hair and visible augmentations. Skin lightly tanned, unkept wires sprouting from the corners of blue eyes, and retractable skates within the soles of her feet; the same shade as their platinum wrist augmentation. All features that were stored by the machine before crossing the street for regular duties, "Phew...." Lena wiped the sweat off her brow. "I'll never understand why this place is so militarized..."
Of course, a city twice the size of any other with thrice the population would have to be heavily defended. Excluding the civilians, the very ruler of the country sat paramount in the prominent inner ring with his appointed 'hands'. A ruler incomparable to any man or mere machine, for he was divine. The god of heat and passion, the robot who stood a millennium and will for eons to come. Rote-Gigante. The fiery giant blasted in red with the most influential family beneath his reign. Over a thousand years they have looked after the country alongside the Red Knight squadron, the Dyson household. Though blood ran thin, their reach touched the ends of Gottenfall. Such a protected location meant great costs, mostly on the bank accounts as far as the public knew. A soldier of the red swarm division stationed around every corner and eyes from the various drones in the sky. The price of security was privacy.
"Yet their crime rate is still worse than home...."
Lena kept her criticisms to herself with a smile to all the soldiers and PD models she met, "Seems a little overdone, but this is just how they do things," she grumbled with hands on her head, "Ah why am I even talking about this!?" her wheels sped up once frustration flourished. The fresh graduate from Mandaly University was left without the promised position in an accounting firm due to a scandalous shutdown. Now with a degree in hand, she sought everywhere else. No job meant no money, her folks back home would stop supporting in time. No money meant no rent and she'd have to move back home, "I don't wanna be an oyster farmer..." she wept at the thought. Even if she were to go enter the military and get ranked as a specialist it would take far too long to pay off student loans
She caught wind of her internal clock's ding, "Well...it's 5 p.m." her eyes drifted off to the distance. Though she was a few twists and turns away from her apartment in the nicer part of town, the greasy gear bar was closer. What's the harm in dropping twenty drams on a few drinks, right? "Well, it doesn't matter now!"
Lack of judgment and incoherence brought to a lightweight drinker made track of time disappear. Like all other establishments in the area, they were crowded with both humans and machines refueling on beer and oil. The Greasy Gears was the last of a dying breed. A small business with a cozy wooden look with furnishing to match, rustic stone walls, and a centralized counter where the head bartender operated with twenty patrons circling him constantly. Though many pipes ran from the booth to every table for ease of access with pricing scaling with the amount drank; sitting near the tender gave an aesthetic hardly matched.
The owner, Strider, was a fine man who strayed from his home in Durigon years prior before settling in Gottenfall. He worked odd jobs around Mandaly city years before inheriting ownership of the building. Like most Durigan's, he was taller than anyone from his new home with skin like a newborn. Hair that long faded tucked under a broad-brimmed hat; formal like his suit with buttoned sleeves which hid thick arms. His eyes locked one sad youth among a slew of middle-aged hordes, "So mind telling Strider what's the long face for?"
"Let me guess, job didn't call you back?" he hit the nail before Lena uttered a word. She sobbed with a tear in her beer. Out of pity Strider took the almost empty mug and gave a refill of the cheap stuff everyone seemed to love. "I was headed to S.Cnoc and Mandaly soon and needed someone to look after the bar, A.I. doesn't really have that edge and someone could take advantage of Zeze," he ranted from his spot. His legs circled every patron with a shaker in hand. It slid across the table with a ball of ice rolling in as shots of red and blue liquor was shaken and poured.
He continued with rhythm. Fixing his gloves after every pour and swapping to untainted shakers in a matter of seconds to repeat the cycle; his arms were more efficient than any common robot.
"It's fine," Lena grumbled, "I'm looking for something more permanent," a strong gulp finished another drink. With that, her spending limit was reached and the lock she placed on her account went into effect for the evening. "I just need some quick cash to pay off my debt, man. And my landlord is still hounding me for last month's rent."
Though not much was left to vent, words of goodbye were shared to the acquaintances before Lena stepped into the dreary realm of Giganto's streets. The skies turned black like the ebony towers littered throughout every district and den. Blinding lights pierced the veil; a city named after the red giant didn't know the meaning of the word tiny. Supersized buildings, mass-produced machines, hovering vehicles that held hundreds. Hell, even the raindrops were like bombs. Though like humans, all machines were waterproofed, not needing to worry about getting clothes or important items soaked. They walked free. Everyone else had their umbrellas or in Lena's case, scurried around looking for shelter.
The girl who had high-end optical, mobility, and wrist augmentations didn't carry around a simple umbrella. Her feet stomped through the fresh puddles. If she ran home directly she'd be soaked, that and her opticals didn't have water insurance. At the last second both eyes fell on another safety. A construction site not too far away. "Maybe I'll just…."
She made a beeline to the structure. The building was simply a concept with only a frame of steel girders locked in a foundation of cement and steel. Asphalt steamed and lit the air with the intoxicating scent of pitch. Construction equipment was littered about. She hid from the storm under the loose ceilings. Once the storm picked up, the option was no longer viable, "Ah god-" Lena cursed the sky. In towers such as these, the basement was constructed soon after laying the foundation. With hope in her eyes she traced the outlying handle upon the floor. Trying not to slip, she vaulted for it, lifting the cellar door and headed down the stairs.
Light already filled the grim basement. At first glance, she was met with a hall lit by small luminary bulbs on the low roof. Crates of wood with metal lacing sat around with warning stickers plastered to them. It was quiet. Her heartbeats were an engine. The walls crawled with an eerie nature. Cobwebs and peeled paint didn't bode confidence either. "Phew…." she took a breath recalling the location. The owners, Mastiff Corporate, acquired the lot as their first foothold into Gottenfall's market. "Place is already going to the dogs-"
Lena bit her tongue. She heard a murmur from ahead, "Get these to the warehouse by tonight and the money is yours," a voice from the other room commanded, "After this, clear out those ruins and get anything of value," something nefarious lurked in the next room. Her feet inched forward. She gulped, gently crossing the crate in front of the door. Around the corner was someone. She faltered. Her leg snagged on the end of the crate. Her body fell forward where all eyes landed on her. In the back room of the basement were six robots of various shapes. She recognized familiar ones like the golden Crop dusters with circular wings and smaller bodies for omni-directional control. Other makes like chunkier Hippobotamuses equipped with durable bodies; not to mention their monstrous appearance of an extinct beast. Among both types, there was a third she couldn't quite identify. Concealed under a winter coat. All it revealed were those eyes. White like death with a 'Z' branded unto him. "And here we have another listener...how original."
"Tch, I told ya we should've done it under a bridge or something," a copper cropduster spoke out, "Or maybe at Buford's place again."
The Hippobotamus beside him shook his head, "Last time we went to my place that Legbuster brat blew up half the block! I had to move in with the rest of HID units in a capsule home!" he raged with tusks that rivaled the worst of monsters. The bickering went back and forth until their boss held out his arm with finger aimed. Lena attempted to retreat. Five lasers locked on her and buzzed. A monotone rainbow spelled death.
"Now while my companions bicker, tell me who sent you and I'll consider being easy on you," the machine's voice ordered respect with a natural echo. It was like the very foundation shook. Everyone's eyes faced Lena. Sweat leaked from her brow with the stammer in her throat.
"I- wanted to escape the rain," her eyes drifted off to the side of all the crates. Her voice broke under pressure. She didn't need the warnings from her gear to know when she was outmatched. Keeping a cool head was out the window, "That's it, really," her flustered arms swung around with ideas popping into her head. The weaponized machine had focus aimed at her wrist. "I'm just going to leave and pretend this never-"
An explosion went off. The ignition sent the chambered rounds flying from the armed wrists of the robot. They scattered and pierced the walls around Lena once she ducked. A shriek ruptured the silence. The machine's eyes were locked on her wrist as he stepped closer, "Try to run again and that is what you will meet," the titan scolded. He stepped forward with right arm grabbing her left. On closer inspection that silver band was nothing to worry about. Just a piece of primitive technology compared to him, "A hunter's augmentation? If someone truly sent you here they'd want you dead," he noted the device. A quick press extended the tool to its true form. A quadrupedal crossbow lined in a molten orange with the string sharing the same glow as it took the pattern of an 'X' with multiple strings used.
"Well she did say it was an accident…" the hippobotamus spoke up. In their rubbery fingers was a yellow construction hat, "But so did the last two guys," the hat was flung. In seconds the cap was riddled with bullets from the smoking guns on the Crop duster's shoulders. Three cropdusters stood in triangular formation with their weapon extensions out, parallel to them the hippobotamuses took their place. There was no escape. Only hopes that the fire in her bow would be enough. Even so, Lena's eyes kept looking, kept wandering, kept searching. And for what? In a room littered with containers, her sidestep caused her to trip over one. This package was stranger than the others.
It was large like the rest. The ends however were bolted down oddly enough. On the side was a sigil burnt into pinewood. Like a house crest giving a smoldering aroma. D. It was the letter D with sharpened with a badger and a magnet; scarily similar to other historical names. Though similar to the Dyson family crest it had many differences...what was this? Who did it belong to?
"You…." a voice rang in the air. Gentle yet feeble like a dandelion in the breeze, "That essence of yours," the glow within Lena's bow faded. This box. That mark drained her of it. Down to the last drop of magic in her body was stolen before anyone else could notice. "Loan me some why don't ya!?"
The bolts crackled and popped with heat. Noxious fumes leaked from the gap made. Lena backed away. The gas was toxic to the nostrils and even metal hated it. The robots and his undermen waited no time before taking aim again. All lasers aimed on her from faces that lost animation. Explosions went off and chambers ignited dozens of rounds a second. Lena bit her lip with bow over her chest. Everything slowed down. She could smell the gunpowder, her ears wanted cover from the echoed noise. Her eyes were blinded by each flash. Quite a sudden end, no? But not one projectile touched her.
Instead, they crashed into the risen cover of the metal-lined box. A unit crouched with the improvised shield refracting the rain of bullets. With guns overheated they halted. "Phew, here I thought you'd actually scrap me!"
The strange unit stood up. He wasn't the tallest nor the biggest with a body shorter than average and matching slimmer build. His upper body was skinny under his white turtleneck that lacked sleeves, painted with a black stripe from neck to pelvis. He wore faux skin that was smooth to the touch. Same went for hair. Black and combed to the back at an angle with touches of purple. He appeared normal, but that's not where people looked. His leg, uncovered by any skin was certainly unmatched. Thicker than a tree's trunk, it was more fitting of a mech than a small unit. It was no more than a slab of iron. Many slots and indentations rested within each segment. Another oddity being the knee that connected the components together was somewhat smaller. A rounded orange core inserted in between, "Hey so umm…." the asymmetrical unit looked down, "Where's my other leg?"
He hopped around regaining balance with the sudden realization, gripping his chest to find the pulse missing. The giant machine loomed over, pointing his thumb to the hippobotamus with a black briefcase, "You do remember that we take apart some machines to get them past security...correct?" the robots laughed for a moment, "Now tell me, Legbuster, what do you intend to do without your other leg and that D.D.D. system of yours?" the malicious robot's words clearly ignored with Legbuster's back facing him.
"Oh hey, thanks for lending me all that magic, without you I'd be a goner!" he shook Lena's hand vigorously with the expression of fear growing larger by the second, "The name's Dynamo," he hopped closer and pointed out his many missing components. Lena's voice was stuck in her throat from the sight behind him. A gentle tap redirected Dynamo as bullets bounced off his body from all but the commanding unit.
"Yeah... we should probably run."