Carved into the walls. Carved into the floors, the nooks, the crannies. Blood-tinged rusts coated along metals and the blacks of shadows tore cavities into this city's foundations - and the haze that seemingly cursed the high-noon times of day wore evermore, sickeningly hot; the kind of heat that strings tinnitus and migraines and the bright, reflective sunlight that makes the floor much more attractive than anything else around you through no fault of your own but the burning of your eyes.
The Sun certainly made it clearer. The street was nothing more than a slum. It would be faster to describe what wasn't laid out in the open than what was - perhaps only garbage bags.
"What?" The Man looked around with his shoulders and arms raised, "This was yesterday!"
He had just turned a corner seconds ago, from what must be hundreds of miles away where he was at now.
That has literally never happened before ever.
Knowing his navigation abilities, it was virtually impossible for him to be accidentally going around in a circle.
Teleportation, and faster than I could react too…
But, getting worried was pointless. He had gotten through most things in life quite confidently. This too will just be the same.
Regardless, he was insistent on completing his mission and so marched onwards to the end of the alleyway. The girl was nowhere to be seen but the severed robot still laid twitching.
Of all heights tall and short, figures lazed their way through the filth with him. Those who strung together tattered, stained cloth and dirt and mould and algae, and leaving small patches of their skin bare to the wild, and as if diseased, bore metallic limbs whose internal wires were awfully exposed. Those who wore clothes like savage brutes, plating and leather withered away by the claws of beasts and the weapons of man; selling, buying and wielding a variety of similarly ruffian killing tools. Those who harboured festering, bloody wounds bordering death's door, and upon approaching their proximity, buzzes can be heard like the sound of pestilence itself whisked around their dying-but-living bodies and like some heartfelt sob story, held their hands out, yet no man sought to respond. And finally, those who wore garments and robes shrouded in naturally-impossible darkened purples, and who covered their faces with elaborate masks adorned with patterns with which seemed impractical to produce by hand - maybe this was an allegory for the rich versus poor, but a robot cares little for philosophy.
It was definitely crowded.
The Man reached an opening, an offshoot area to the left of a city centre - all the same trash but slightly quieter this time.
"'Ey, which block is this?" A voice from somewhere behind.
"Block 42EC"
There were hundreds of thousands of city blocks each with their own codes, but the Man nevertheless replied in haste.
Years past, the city's random evolution of the amalgamations produced machines capable of industrial operation. Over time, more and more of these robots were created, which ended up forming a feedback loop of senseless resource collection and creation. Sometimes, some of these amalgamations would end up gaining the ability to produce more 'human-friendly' products, which was the reason why there were humans trying to live here. As a result, the block became an 'accidental' resource hub with its own centre.
As the Man continued walking, the sound of rushing water could be heard. It was a river which happened to cross through the block.
On this side of the Megastructure, there existed an immeasurably large wall bordering the outskirt blocks - it just so happened that robots started building one here. This river travelled outwards through an ultra-massive filter machine attached into the wall, shaped like a cuboid and surprisingly clean despite its surroundings due to its distinctly white colour.
There is no discernible reason why outgoing water needs to be cleaned, though it was well-maintained regardless.
The Man noticed a girl by the side of the river, the same kid from before. She was scooping water into bottles, ignoring a cap, walking over, and placing them in some corner behind a wall that was further away.
Though laborious, it was as if she had done the movement a thousand times. She paid no heed to those she walked past. She held no concept of footpaths as she crossed diagonally over them, and it was like she was in a rush.
It was strangely mechanical.
At no point did she stray from her path back and forth, purple-shot eyes glued in place. And though the Man was mostly robotic and himself was largely focussed on his goals too, it was certainly impressive to show this much tenacity in such a menial task.
The fact that even he stopped walking for a minute or two showed how inhuman it seemed. All of a sudden, he felt a little inspired.
He continued down the side of the river. The shortest way through this block to the Megastructure's centre was through its Industrial Section, which was also where most of the robots were.
There was no path where he walked now southwards, just dust. Splashing water wetted the dead floor and the faces of the metal sheets haphazardly plastered together brushed against his shoulder. It was clear that little could live bar hardy, invasive species.
He would occasionally have to take steps in the river to pass trees that grew on this route, though they were now either dead or in the process of dying. Husks of trunks, cold bracken, desertified grass blades, brittle vines slathered across iron walls, and unbound, unfit weeds were all that was left here.
Churning gears and metal soldering merged with the sound of rippling water, louder with each step. He was nearing the entrance.