After defeating Robert's distorted image on the roof of Delia Asia Vieira sighed heavily and, without looking back, began to descend the long fire escape. Everything around her was once again silent, and only her metal feet loudly hit the steps. It was as if the hotel, which seemed like a living being, had finally exhaled and let her go. But something inside robotess told her: this was not the end yet.
When she found herself back in the dim corridors of the building, she decided to head to the restaurant where she had run into Delay York earlier. The doors were slightly open, and there was something strange wafting through them, as if the air inside was saturated with a mixture of cotton candy and rust.
As soon as she entered, Delia Asia Vieira immediately felt a change: the space around her was distorted, as if she had entered another world. Instead of cozy tables and dusty chandeliers, she was now surrounded by a nightmarish amusement park. Evil clowns with empty eye sockets and ragged smiles froze along the paths, carousels creaked in time with a barely audible eerie melody, and the entire space was filled with a thick fog that seemed acrid and heavy.
"What is this?" Delia Asia Vieira whispered, looking around.
Her systems analyzed what was happening, but could not give clear answers. Suddenly, a creature burst out of the fog, half human, half animal, with crazy eyes and long claws. Delia Asia Vieira reacted with lightning speed - the built-in combat algorithms activated automatically. With one precise blow, she sent the monster back into the abyss from which it had burst.
But her ordeal was not over. The park seemed like an endless labyrinth, filled with creatures that had burst forth from the darkest corners of her subconscious. She walked through the labyrinth, fighting off monsters, her mechanisms working at the limit of their capabilities, but her determination was unwavering. She had to find a way out, she had to find the truth.
Suddenly, a set of tracks appeared in front of her, leading upwards – a roller coaster. A flash of understanding dawned on her – this was the exit. Without thinking, Delia Asia Vieira began to climb them, clinging to the metal railings and stepping on the shaky platforms.
She climbed higher and higher until she suddenly heard a deafening screeching sound – as if the entire structure of the roller coaster had come to life and was about to collapse on her. But it was too late – the car, rushing at full speed, tore off the track, rushing straight at her. Delia Asia Vieira tried to jump back, but her calculations were too late. The impact came with such force that her metal body was thrown several meters away.
Her sensors exploded with flashes of errors and damage. She woke up in a scattered mess of debris and twisted metal. The flickers of her artificial consciousness slowly returned to normal, and the systems began to reboot. She tried to stand, and her limbs creaked, but they worked. The world around her seemed to flash brightly and then fade again, and she suddenly realized that she was no longer in an amusement park. Everything around her was now covered in marble and glass.
She stood in the middle of an empty shopping mall. Her footsteps echoed off the high walls and empty storefronts, creating the illusion that someone else was following her. The dim neon signs barely flickered, as if trying to maintain the illusion of life in this abandoned place.
Delia Asia Vieira knew she had to move on, she had to find a way out. But her internal processes were starting to falter, and suddenly an idea occurred to her that seemed strange but inevitable. She opened her communicator and dialed a frequency she knew had long since ceased to exist. It was Robert's number.
There was a dull echo on the other end of the line, then a quiet crackling sound, like the static of an old radio.
"Robert, it's me," Delia Asia Vieira's voice was even, but there was something reminiscent of human melancholy in it. "I'm on my way home. I'll find the way. No matter how difficult it is."
There was no answer. Only rustling sounds, as if someone on the other end was trying to break through the thickness of the otherworldly darkness, but was unable to do so.
Delia Asia Vieira disconnected the connection and took a few steps before she felt someone watching her. As she turned, she noticed a tall figure in a long coat. A man with a gray face and piercing eyes stood nearby, keeping to the shadows of the columns.
"Hello," he said. "I must admit, it wasn't easy to find you."
Robotess froze, assessing the threat. His eyes gleamed with cold professionalism, but there was a hint of curiosity in them. He was a detective, and his badge gleamed in his hands.
"Earl Knight, at your service," he introduced himself, bowing his head slightly. "I have been hired by a certain group of people calling themselves "De Carlo". I believe you are familiar with them."
At the sound of that name, Delia Asia Vieira felt her processor tense up, as if in response to imminent danger. De Carlo cult was known for its brutal methods and mystical fanaticism. But what did they want from her? Why had they sent a detective?
"You have the wrong address," she replied coldly, slowly backing away.
But the detective stepped forward, leaving her no chance to escape.
"Your name has become popular in their circles. But honestly, I'm just doing my job," he sighed, as if it were a burden to him. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want answers."
But Delia Asia Vieira wasn't taking any chances. She could see that this could be a trap. Suddenly, her sensors picked up movement behind her and she darted away, heading for the nearest toilet. She ran into the dimly lit room, slammed the door, and locked herself in, pressing herself against the wall.
Trying to recover from the adrenaline rush, she listened. Silence, broken only by the dripping of water from the leaking faucet. But somewhere beyond the door there were footsteps, slow and heavy, as if a detective was examining every crack in the floor, trying to find traces of her.
Delia Asia Vieira held her breath, even though it made no sense—she didn't need to breathe. But the instinct for self-preservation was so deeply programmed that she couldn't simply ignore it.
"I know you're there," Earl Knight's voice was like thunder in the silence. "I won't hurt you if you just come out and talk to me. After all, we both have questions, don't we?"
But Delia Asia Vieira wasn't going to give in to his persuasion. She realized that she had no other choice. Taking a deep breath, even though she didn't need oxygen, the robotess suddenly rushed to the toilet window and, without thinking, knocked out the glass with a blow of her metal elbow. The shards flew to the sides, and Delia Asia Vieira jumped forward.
The cold night air hit her as she hurtled down to the second floor of the mall, landing with a dull metallic thud on a deserted gallery. But she had barely regained her feet when she realized her path was blocked. Massive steel bars appeared at either end of the long corridor, slamming shut with a loud clang.
"Damn, they locked me in!" flashed through her head.
She frantically searched for a way out, but she knew she didn't have time to figure out how to disable the locked gate. Cursing her carelessness, Delia Asia Vieira turned and ran deeper into the mall.
The spacious hallways were dark and silent. Empty storefronts stared at her with black eye sockets, like ominous observers. Her footsteps echoed through the empty halls, and every sound seemed to be amplified many times over. But within a minute, she began to detect something else: a slight rustling and a soft sound, like the scraping of claws on tile.
"There's someone here..." Delia Asia Vieira realized.
Her sensors picked up faint but distinct signs of movement in the darkness. They weren't people—moving too fast and too abruptly, strange shapes flickering behind the columns. Monsters. Something had awakened in this abandoned place, and now they were waiting for her.
Trying not to make any noise, she quickened her pace. And then a clothing store caught her eye, a huge display window full of mannequins and discarded clothes strewn across the floor, as if the customers had suddenly abandoned everything and fled. Delia Asia Vieira walked resolutely inside, hoping to find shelter for at least a minute.
But as she moved deeper into the dark room, her sensors began to sound an alarm again. Something was moving behind the counters, hiding in the shadows. She froze, trying not to make any noise, but then her gaze fell on an open drawer, revealing the handle of a weapon. A pistol. She reached for it, and her mechanical fingers closed on the cold metal.
After checking that the gun was loaded, Delia Asia Vieira looked around cautiously. A soft rustling sound came from behind her, and she turned around abruptly. A woman emerged from the shadows, barefoot and dressed in all black, her long blonde hair fluttering despite the lack of wind. Her eyes were piercing, and she emitted an aura that Delia Asia Vieira could not analyze, as if her presence alone distorted the space around her.
"I've been waiting for you," the woman said, her voice echoing through the empty room like the rustle of old newspapers. "My name is Lisa Roselli."
Delia Asia Vieira froze, trying to understand who this mysterious figure was and why his name evoked a strange response in her system, as if she had heard it before, but could not remember where or when.
"Who are you?" the robotess finally asked, clutching her gun tighter.
Lisa smiled slightly, her eyes glittering with madness and obsession. She took a step forward, and at that moment the lights in the mall flickered, as if reacting to her movement.
"I am the high priestess of the De Carlo cult," Lisa answered softly. "And I am looking for one little girl... Delia York, daughter of Damien Thorn. The one who was given to us to lead us to the Antichrist's Paradise.
The name Delia York went through the robot like an electric shock. She couldn't believe her ears.
"Why do you need Delia York?" she asked, trying to remain calm.
"Oh, my dear, you know why," Lisa said quietly, approaching. "There is power in her jackal blood. Power we crave, to lead our world to a new dawn. But you... I need you too. Your talents, your ability to see and understand what is hidden from mere mortals, all of this makes you the perfect guide. I sense that you still remember your true self. You know what you must do."
Robotess froze, stunned. Her data analysis system was malfunctioning—Lisa's words sounded like a riddle, but also deeply familiar. Something dark in her memory was stirring, but she couldn't figure out what it was.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Delia Asia Vieira replied, narrowing her eyes. "I'm not here for you or your cult."
Lisa burst out laughing, and her laughter echoed throughout the room.
"You will lead us to the Antichrist's Paradise with bloody hands," she whispered, and there was a threat in her voice. "Your hands will be our keys to a new world. I can see it in your eyes... You are already on the way to remembering.
With that, Lisa suddenly vanished, as if she had melted into thin air, leaving behind only a cold and strange feeling of emptiness. She felt her systems begin to overheat, and then her head suddenly exploded with a searing pain. A migraine, unnatural for a machine, washed over her like a wave, forcing her to drop to one knee. Strange symbols and images flashed across her vision, as if someone was trying to penetrate her consciousness.
"What did she do to me?" flashed through her mind, but Delia Asia Vieira couldn't concentrate.
Everything around began to float, turning into a chaotic whirlpool of shadows and light.
She knew she had to move on, something was trying to stop her, but robotess stubbornly rose to her feet. She couldn't let herself break down now. She had to find a way out of this nightmare and find out what really happened to Robert and Delia York.
Unsteady but determined, Delia Asia Vieira stepped into the elevator, her metal body uncaring of how she moved, but her internal processor registering every moment. She pressed a button and the elevator began to slowly descend, sucking her into the void of the dungeon. As the elevator began to descend, a radio fell from the ceiling, emitting static. The blast of static made her systems falter, and a warning flashed across her screen: Monsters Nearby.
It wasn't the first time she'd encountered something like this, but this sound was different. It penetrated the very heart of her algorithms, as if it were trying to make her doubt what she'd seen and heard. For a few moments, she held her breath, waiting for something she couldn't understand.
When the elevator doors opened, she found herself in no ordinary hallway, but in a second elevator, older and more worn, with rusted corners and writing that began to blur as soon as she looked at it. It looked like a passage into something else, and a sense of unease crept up inside her. She wasn't sure if she should do this, but there was no fear or doubt on her face. This was just another test she had to endure. Plus, the elevator, like this whole situation, felt familiar, as did that sense of inevitability.
When she entered the second elevator, it immediately went down, its doors closing behind her with a slight creak. The feeling of strangeness intensified. With each second of descent, the elevator moved faster and faster, and soon her attention was drawn to something even stranger - a soft light shining from under the doors.
When they opened, she found herself in a huge room full of mirrors. Mirrors were everywhere - on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor. There was no image of her in their reflections - only strange silhouettes of people standing around her. They were silent, but their gazes were so direct and motionless that Delia Asia Vieira felt her computing processes begin to overload. These people were not just people - they were looking at her as if they could read her thoughts, as if they were waiting for her to do something.
The robotess's processors began working at increased speed, trying to analyze and classify these entities, but no answers came. All her attempts to move her gaze away from their eyes were unsuccessful - they were watching her every move. It was frightening, but not fatal.
After what felt like hours, a man stepped forward. He was tall, with sharp features and deep eyes. He held out his hand, as if expecting her to accept the gesture. Delia Asia Vieira made no move, but her systems signaled that she needed to move in the direction he was pointing. That look... His eyes were like a trap, like an invitation to an unknown place.
People began to part, forming a path back to the Type 1 elevator. Delia Asia Vieira followed them, though her systems continued to try to make sense of it all. The mirrors began to distort, giving the illusion that she had been here before, though she knew for a fact that she had not passed through this corridor. The further she walked, the more it seemed to her that none of this made sense.
As she returned to the Type 1 elevator, the doors opened and she was greeted by a man standing in front of the cabin. His face had been completely replaced by a glass eye that rotated continuously, recording her every move. He was unusually calm, as if this was all part of his normal routine.
He was talking on the phone, saying something important to himself, ignoring the robotess's presence. His voice was calm and soothing, but there was such a coldness hidden in it that Delia Asia Vieira couldn't help but feel uneasy. He was talking about something that sounded like an order or an important task. Something related to this place, to what she had to do, or to what she had already done.
Delia Asia Vieira felt her processors overloading with tension, so she decided to enter the door opposite, and thus found herself in a restaurant. She went to a table by the window, although she knew that she did not need the view outside, nor the idea of rest. Outside, she could see a dark street, beyond which began the abyss.
The city seemed absolutely lifeless, but it was only a temporary illusion. She sat down, and when the waiter approached her with a smile, she asked quietly:
"Bring me a glass of champagne."
It was more for show, because she couldn't drink. The champagne was just a rite, a ritual, meant to hide the emptiness she felt. The waiter nodded and left, and Delia Asia Vieira, looking around the room, felt the tension in her "body" gradually dissipate. But it was only for a moment.
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a man appeared next to her table with a crocodile-skin suitcase. He was short, dressed in a formal suit, and his face was hidden behind a hat. He silently opened the suitcase, and Delia Asia Vieira felt her processor registering his every move. Inside the suitcase were photographs—they were pictures of the burned-out hotel she had recently visited. The photographs were bright, sharp, like stills from a horror film, and they showed only destruction, smoke, ruins. The focus was on the very walls she had recently crossed.
The man placed the photographs on the table, right on top of the Astoria menu, and stood up again, silently, closing his bag. He left as quickly as he had appeared, without saying a word. His disappearance was as sudden and strange as his appearance. It was as if he had never been there.
Delia Asia Vieira sat looking at the photographs, her systems working at full capacity. She scanned the images, trying to find some kind of explanation, but nothing. It was simply evidence of something she couldn't understand, something she couldn't get over. She couldn't imagine how these walls had become rubble, or what had led to the hotel being destroyed. Was it her fault? Or was it someone else's choice?
When the waiter returned with a glass of champagne, he placed it in front of her and stood there silently, waiting for her to pay. Delia Asia Vieira could not answer his silent question. She simply took the glass, looked at the liquid in it, but did not raise it to her lips.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, not expecting an answer, but rather as an automatic question built into her algorithm. The waiter sighed softly, pulled out the check and placed it in front of her. Delia Asia Vieira paid immediately, not paying attention to the price.
Her gaze returned to the photographs. She couldn't help but think that there was a truth hidden in those pictures—a truth she had to find. But what was it? And who was the person who had brought them to her? And why now, at this moment, when she could barely contain herself?
She stood up and left the restaurant with a slight sense of relief. On the surface, everything was back to normal: the restaurant was once again immersed in the peaceful hum of conversation, waiters were serving customers, and a dim street lamp was shining outside the windows. There was a certain silence on her processors, as if after a storm and tempest, but she knew that this was not the end. This was just a temporary respite. She had a plan, and she needed to be in time for a meeting with one of those she called her "friends."
Her steps were quick and determined as she headed for the exit. There was a meeting waiting for her in the subway that could give her answers to many questions. She was even a little glad that she could talk to these people – at least they gave her some sense of belonging, even if it was not quite real. Delia Asia Vieira knew that she was not like them, but in this world where everything was broken and lost its meaning, a false sense of kinship seemed more than enough.
She was walking towards the exit, ignoring the noise of the city around her, when she suddenly felt someone's presence. Earl Knight, the same detective she had accidentally met earlier, appeared out of nowhere. His face was an expression of persistence and determination, which did not bode well.
"Wait!" he said, stopping her with his gaze. "You have to go to the newspaper office. You need to write an article about what you saw in the restaurant.
Her heart skipped a beat. She stopped and looked back at him, raising her eyebrows in confusion. How could he suggest such a thing? What did he even know about what had happened?
"That's not what I need," she replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. "I'm not going to write about what I saw. That's not my job."
But Earl Knight was relentless. He came closer, his eyes full of urgency, and Delia Asia Vieira couldn't help but notice how his words sounded like orders.
"You don't understand," he said, his voice dropping to a half-whisper. "You can make a lot of money if you write an article. You can become famous. People will read your words, and all you have to do is just tell them what you saw. It could change your life."
She felt her processors speed up, trying to process the information. Make money? Become famous? Why would she want to do this? Earl's words became more and more alien with each passing moment, as if someone else were forcing their will on her. But then, as always, she had to remind herself: she had to act according to her own rules. Everything that was happening around her was part of an alien world that she wanted no part of.
"I'm not going to do this, Earl," she said, her voice growing firmer.
But Earl wasn't going to give in so easily. He stepped forward, his voice even more insistent.
"You don't understand that this is a chance," he tried to convince her. "You can do it. And if you don't, I can't help you get out of here.
Delia Asia Vieira felt her systems begin to strain, the tension mounting, but she couldn't let herself give in. It wasn't her business.
Boldly and decisively, she turned away from him and moved forward. She wasn't going to listen to him. He could say whatever he wanted, but her path was already decided. Without warning, she turned and ran toward the door that led to the subway.
Earl tried to approach, but Delia Asia Vieira was already moving quickly, skirting around him as if she didn't notice his presence. She ran through halls and corridors without stopping. Behind her, she felt Earl falling behind, but something in her inner code told her that he wouldn't be able to catch her that easily.
Soon she found herself on the subway platform. The sunlight barely penetrated through the dirty windows, and the smell was heavy and oppressive. The subway was half empty, only a few passengers sat on benches, hiding from the world. When Delia Asia Vieira entered the subway car, her gaze immediately caught on a man sitting in the corner. He was dressed in pajamas, his head tilted towards the table, where a plastic bowl of Doshirak stood. The man ate with appetite right on the go, not paying attention to the rocking of the train, and sometimes the fork with soup almost fell out of his hand. His behavior seemed unusual, but in this world full of oddities, Delia Asia Vieira was not surprised.
However, another scene soon caught her attention. A trio of clowns had gathered in the middle of the carriage and were putting on a real show. They ran out into the central space, their brightly painted faces twisted into smiles, and their screams and laughter filled the carriage. One of them began playing the harmonica, another waved giant balloons, and the third spun a "loop" of balloons in the air, performing small tricks. The clowns were so loud and bright that several passengers got up from their seats to watch this show. The ringing laughter and silly antics of the clowns reminded us that the metro had become some kind of carnival space.
Delia Asia Vieira sat quietly, trying not to attract attention. She watched what was happening, but her gaze was cold and attentive. She could not afford to waste her energy on empty fun. Although her own emotions were switched off, her processors carefully recorded all the details: the strange characters, their strange habits, and everything that was happening around her.
When the train finally began to slow down and pulled into the station, Delia Asia Vieira stood up and headed for the door. She was among those about to get off. People were beginning to disperse, as if they were simply going about their day, but there was one passenger in particular. It was a two-headed multimedia monster bandit, with loud speakers on its shoulders that blared out inaudible chatter and strange, distorted sounds. Its faces, one half-covered in red tape and the other with an eye that glowed like a spotlight, looked at everything with suspicion. This monster bandit moved with such confidence, as if it were part of this unimaginable reality, and Delia Asia Vieira noticed that it, too, was getting off at the same station.
As she walked towards the exit, she felt a strange uneasiness, but despite this, she did not lose focus. The passengers milling around her seemed as much a part of this strange world as she was. They all walked their own paths, regardless of what was happening around them. Delia Asia Vieira got out of the subway car and entered the underground passage, which was filled with dim light and yellow dim lamps, which created an eerie feeling of a closed space. There were no familiar faces, no sounds of city life. Only her footsteps echoed on the concrete floor. The walls around were covered with dirty tiles, from which the smell of mold emanated everywhere. The places here looked like a forgotten part of the city, like a forgotten corner in which life continued to exist, but by a different law.
As Delia Asia Vieira made her way through the labyrinth, her feet slipped on the damp floor, and the air was damp and damp. The corridors were narrow and winding, like sewers, and only the occasional metal door or ventilation grille suggested that this part of the dungeon might once have been part of the city's infrastructure. She didn't know how long she would be here, but her goals did not change - she had to get to the place that lay deeper, hidden in this forgotten underworld.
Soon she reached the construction site. Here, amid the dirty plastic sheeting and humming machines, there was silence, broken only by the scraping of metal structures and the distant shouts of workers. The construction site was in the process of collapsing, its abandoned buildings invisible in the penumbra, looking as if the city itself was trying to erase them from the map. Sand and bricks littered the ground, and floors, protruding pipes and abandoned building materials created a chaotic mess.
With every step Delia Asia Vieira took, she felt herself sinking deeper into an unknown world. She looked around, observing the empty eyes of abandoned buildings. This world was far from her previous feelings: the sterility of the laboratory and the methodical nature of its existence were nothing compared to the chaos that reigned here. All that was left was to move forward, despite the darkness and fear that lurked in the depths of these corridors and areas.
The construction site was filled with remnants of the past – rusty cranes, broken ladders that led to nowhere, and empty frames hung with wires, like forgotten, ugly monuments to a broken world. Delia Asia Vieira walked without hesitation, feeling the cold in the air and the strange emptiness of this place. She did not know what was waiting for her around the next turn, and suddenly, from behind one of the scattered building materials, as if materializing from the void, a man appeared. His face was covered in dirt and his worn clothes were badly torn, as if he had lived here for a long time. He was homeless, armed with some old, tattered mattress, which he swung like a shield.
Delia Asia Vieira instinctively stopped, trying to assess the situation. The man noticed her and rushed towards her, his eyes wild. He didn't say a word, he just swung his weapon, that old mattress, as if trying to bring it down on the robotess's head. Delia Asia Vieira jumped to the side and, using her speed calculations and agility, dodged the blow. She was programmed to react quickly, but she couldn't understand why this man would attack her. It was ridiculous.
The man, not giving up, swung again and rushed at her with a furious cry. This time, Delia Asia Vieira managed to block his blow, using her hand, which he accidentally touched. It was enough to make the man stagger back, but it did not stop him. He stepped back and readily pulled out something strange from his pocket - it was a water pistol, which clearly did not contain water, but God knows how it worked. The man began to shoot at her, empty blows of water, which could not hurt much, but was quite annoying.
Delia Asia Vieira had to use her wits and hide. She ran to the nearest pile of rubble and hid behind the broken concrete slabs, where her figure became almost invisible among the debris. The man continued to shoot at her hiding place until his ammunition ran out. Delia Asia Vieira quickly realized that if she did not do something quickly, he would attack again. And then, as he was about to approach again, two large tractors drove by noisily, their hum deafening everything around them.
The tractors were loaded with huge garbage bins, which they noisily unloaded right in front of her eyes, creating another barrier between her and her pursuer. This gave the robotess valuable time to slip away and slip deeper into the construction site, hiding among the shadows and debris. She felt relieved to be safe again.
Without looking back or giving herself a break, Delia Asia Vieira quickly made her way through the destroyed construction site, running around the tractors. The gravel under her fingernails, the metal structures, the abandoned tools – all of this seemed part of a strange, hostile reality. She didn't look back, but continued moving forward, focusing on the nearest building adjacent to the site.
When she reached his wall, her gaze immediately fell on the open window on the second floor. The landing that led to it was dangerous, with fallen beams and stones, but Delia Asia Vieira did not hesitate. A few jumps - and here she is on the windowsill, deftly climbing into the window without attracting attention. Her flexibility and calculation worked for her, because every detail of her was calculated and provided for this.