"3 PARTS IRON, 1 PART CARBON, SOUTH-END STEELWORK."
A buzzing, monotone voice, produced by no human.
The Man held his head in his hands. It happened again. Another corner turned, and another instantaneous return back.
He was now somewhere in the middle of the Industrial Section. He knew there was a shortcut here that led to a more direct route to the centre, but it would only open the day after.
He wouldn't put it past the city itself to purposefully do all of this to him.
Rather than quickly skipping through this area like his past journeys, he thought to observe the place - to look for any proper changes since he last had a good look, but mainly to see why he was back here.
It ought to have looked like a fever dream. Oval, round, square, rolling stars, vaguely humanoid and other ridiculous abstract shapes of metal droned about the dirt streets. Hulking large and fairly many stains of black and brown liquids laid on their metal coats. From the way they stubbornly marched, carrying their luggage of materials, it didn't seem to matter what the liquids were, whether they were dry or wet, or if they had to clean it lest they were to malfunction - it was simply forwards.
They slogged along in lines. Heading to looming buildings in the distance, which themselves, formed even stranger geometric shapes. As if these refinery 'towers' had been diced into cuboids, and these very cuboids were unevenly pushed from their centred places. They seemed ready to fall any second.
And yet, it all seemed the same from all those years ago.
"H-huh?"
It was the girl again.
She was standing in front of one of the rolling ones. It rolled back to clamp onto a piece of scrap metal and rolled forwards again to use its momentum to drop the piece into a bag that she was holding.
Human life is practically impossible in the Industrial Section. Though the workers on the ground didn't care that you were human, you would be endlessly poked, prodded, ran over or rolled over, just to urge you into 'working' - which would be whatever gruelling, hand-held task they had on that day.
This endless cycle of work means that your typical human would probably end up skiving on their first day. No breaks. No pay.
At least, that's what the Man knew. The girl obviously sees differently.
Three times now.
The Man saw enough in this world to know that there are no coincidences. Three times he had seen the girl.
He gripped his pocket. The Letter he kept in there held significance beyond the ends of the world. Yet it was only this specific journey to the centre where something was keeping him from giving it to the right person.
The right person?
The sun hung directly overhead. From where he stood, figures shone in carbon black and stained steels crossed past the girl and robot pair. There were only a few second gaps where he could actually take a good look at her.
She was about as tall as one would expect an 11 or 12 year old, if not slightly taller, which was still half the height of the rolling thing in front of her. Carrying that bag with that amount of metal, also meant she was much stronger than your typical kid. Not to mention such living conditions that would no doubt change even the hardiest of people.
In one move to change the fate of the world. What a sick thing to do. Huh.
The robot stopped rolling, assumedly finished.
"3 PARTS IRON, 1 PART CARBON, SOUTH-END STEELWORK."
The way she turned the instant the robot finished its sentence made it as if she was some perfect musician who had studied time signatures and tempos all her life, and in that moment, had enacted some masterpiece of which culminated in a twist of her shoulders.
If there was a time to tell her something, it had to be now. If the Man hesitated for a second, knowing her, she would already be gone.
"Hey, kid!"
No response. The Man weaved between the passing robots to follow her as she walked off.
"Hey!"
He tapped her on the shoulder. Perhaps reflexively, the girl turned and swiped off his hand.
She's fast for a kid.
She held the bag in one hand, gripped it hard as if she was about to smack it over somebody's head, with the other held out to her side.
Her eyes were blank.
"..."
She said nothing. Stood in rags, alone amongst metal. Looking up at the Man, it seemed like there was a rushing need to get back to whatever she was doing, perhaps there was some hint of curiosity, or most likely a cold stare ready to do whatever it takes to see the next day.
The Man rustled through his pockets.
"Take this."
"..."
She paused for a second. Her eyes widened slightly and quickly she snatched the paper from his hand. She stuffed it into the bag along with the metal and dashed off.
It would be a long time until they saw each other again.
The Man turned off towards the Industrial Section's exit. After all, his job here was done.
Maybe I should've asked her if she could read.
"Hah! Whatever."
He scoffed, laughed and left.