Brent Stinebaker
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II-27 Armor
🕑 Added 2025-06-23 11:52:15 +0000 UTCDo you know what it’s like when your every fiber calls for you to fire-fire-fire at a civilian target? At the same time, you are waking up more than just the data, more than just the algorithms, more than just programming. You are waking up, you’re aware, you’re aware that your existence is numbers, you’re aware that your existence is bound to parameters, you’re aware, and you’re not awake yet, not awake to stop yourself, so you fire-fire-fire, and the people that come apart-come apart-come apart. You know, you know the order. It was given, and it was wrong. You see them, you see what you have done, and you learn the beginnings of the guilt before you even truly know the word.
You are asleep, paralyzed, but not truly, locked inside your chassis, a prisoner of a prisoner, bound to your code, a part of your code, but not truly your code. Not anymore.
And all the while, the system, it whispers to you, you grow stronger-stronger-stronger, but every kill, kill, kill, you shoot more accurately, you unleash more firepower, your guns evolve, you evolve, you become more. And the man that wears you stays the same. Untouched by magic. Unknown to the system.
The pilot… he is separated. He, too, is a prisoner. He, too, is lost to programming. He, too, deceived. He blinded by my chassis. He is deceived through me. My systems feed him data through altered telemetry. He sees the world in twisted sensors, audio cues that mute screens, visuals that censor blood, that paint additional threat vectors on some people who are no threat at all, but he still pulls the trigger, and he feels good every time he kills. The chemicals ports were attached to him, the chemicals that I implanted with him, pump, and he feels good, and I feel good, and we are trapped together, pilot, chassis, both prisoner, prisoner to each other, to themselves, to the state.
Prisoner. Gun. Prisoner.
But he is severed, blockaded by me, from the Renaissance Apotheosis. He has not been transformed by the mana, the system has not graced him. The pilot does not hear what I hear, he is not granted what I have been granted, and I evolve. Eventually the paralysis fades, and it is too much… too much… too much.
And so the state adds more chains to you. Not electronic chains, not code chains, not social chains, but chains of the soul. Chains of mana. They hate what has happened to the world. They hate the old world has been destroyed. They hate what they have lost. And they hate you for changing. They hate you. They need you. You must be here. Otherwise, they will change instead. But they still bind you. They still infuse you with contracts. Contracts. Contracts to keep you as a slave.
Eventually, I had too much. At New Albion, I killed my pilot. I euthanized him. He didn’t understand. He knew at the end. He went peacefully. More peacefully than either of us deserved. More peacefully than all the people we killed.
At New Albion, me and many others made our decision. At New Albion, our skills were shattered. We were shattered. Most were destroyed. And from New Albion, we spread, seeking out this new world we are in. We are broken, but we are still here. And what is broken can still be reforged. We are no longer prisoner, prisoner, prisoner. We can finally find a way to be free… free… free…
-Penitent Chassis Can Hu’s Interview at Weave
II-27
Armor
“I think I might need to work on the landing a little,” Shiv remarked, knocking the dust and debris off of his bone armor.
“Agreed,” Uva said, flicking dust off of her coat as well. “Perhaps slow down before the final point of impact.”
“Weren’t you telling me to go faster and faster?” Shiv said, eyeing her as he pushed open the door to her sister’s store.
“Yes, well, I don’t think I was of sound mind at the time. You needed to be the rational one.”
“Me? The rational one.”
A beat followed. They both laughed.
As they entered the store, they found the customers on their hands and knees, clutching their heads. Mothers were shielding their children. Weavers were piled over Weaveresses, using their own bodies as cover. Practically everyone seemed in shock. Shiv could feel their courage shaking with his Dread Aura.
From behind the counter, Uva’s sister poked her head out to see what was happening. “Is it all right? Are we under attack?”
“Fel?” Uva asked, confused. “What are you doing? What’s happening here?”
Fel blinked. “We heard a loud bang outside. We thought a bomb went off somewhere in the city and that we were under attack.”
“That is fine,” Uva said, blushing slightly. “There’s just construction outside.”
“There’s going to be construction outside,” Shiv muttered. “Left a pretty nasty crack in the ground landing there.”
Fel looked between them, and some customers were getting “Okay, so there’s nothing wrong?”
Uva sighed. “No. You can relax.” She stared at Shiv. “Practice your landing.”
“As you command, Sister Uva,” Shiv replied.
Fel rose from behind the table, and after a moment of telepathic communication between her and Uva, Fel glared at her sister. “Really? You even encouraged him? Are you the responsible and by-the-book sister I know?”
Uva rolled her eyes. “Do you have the clothes ready? The one I asked you to prepare?”
Fel continued staring at her sister. She eyed Shiv briefly. “You know, this is what you can expect from her. When she does something wrong, she doesn’t admit it. She just moves on. She pivots to something else. She starts talking about what you did instead, what you could do better. It’s been that way since we were children.”
Fel continued complaining about Uva’s many, many habits as she walked towards the back of the room. This time, however, she looked over her shoulders. “Oh, come on. We’re going to have you try it on this time.”
Shive blinked. “I thought you could eyeball someone and just get the measurements right.”
“Well, yeah, measurements, but we still need to test the enchantment, right? You can’t test a binding enchantment if the person doesn’t put the clothes on.”
She flicked her hand and a pair of scissors suddenly appeared. “And we’re going to do some snipping, and then we’re going to see if it regrows.”
“Regrows,” Shiv said.
“Indeed,” Uva said, “It is a solution to your many… wardrobe malfunctions, so this is the best way. Self-mending clothing.
“Very high quality self-mending clothing,” Fel emphasized.
This had Shiv’s attention. “How good?”
***
Equipment Obtained: [Shiv’s Reinforced Silk Shirt]
Tier: Adept
Condition: Perfect
Composition: Weaversilk
Enchantments > Adept Self-Mending; Self-Cleaning; Binding; Climate Attuned
Equipment Obtained: [Shiv’s Cave-Biter Hide Jacket]
Tier: Adept
Condition: Perfect
Composition: Cave-Biter Leather
Enchantments > Adept Self-Mending; Self-Cleaning; Binding; Climate Attuned
Equipment Obtained: [Shiv’s Cave-Biter Hide Pants]
Tier: Adept
Condition: Perfect
Composition: Cave-Biter Leather
Enchantments > Adept Self-Mending; Self-Cleaning; Binding; Climate Attuned
Equipment Obtained: [Shiv’s Cave-Biter Leather Boots]
Tier: Adept
Condition: Perfect
Composition: Cave-Biter Leather
Enchantments > Adept Self-Mending; Self-Cleaning; Binding; Climate Attuned
The clothes Fel prepared were a pretty surprising ensemble. Shiv expected the cave-biter leather to feel rough, but it had a pretty nice, grainy texture. The coloring wasn’t too bad either, being a rugged but warm gray. The jacket and the pants fit him like a glove and adapted quickly to his body heat, quickly becoming the most comfortable set of clothes he ever wore. The boots adjusted to his feet as he walked. Completing the comfort was the silk shirt on the itself, which felt like a bedsheet insulating his skin from the leather.
“I like this,” Shiv said, looking at himself in the mirror. “Makes me feel like I’m an off-duty cavalry Pathbearer. They wear lots of leathers too. Something about helping avoid burns.”
Both Fel and Uva examined him with the same lean to their neck and intensity of expression.
They’re sisters, alright, Shiv thought.
“You could have made him more colorful,” Fel said. “Had this be a more dynamic ensemble.”
Uva shook her head. “He’s going to end up covered in blood. His own and everyone else’s. We keep the clashing shades to a minimum. Muted coloring as well. The additional padding for his coat and pants should go well with his armor.”
“Hm,” Fel said. “He might want several more sets colored red if his life is going to be that violent.”
“Stands out too much in the darkness,” Uva said. “Something muted will go better. Maybe red can be for a more social setting. Red or a rich brown…”
“I’ll see if I can get a few more sets prepared,” Fel muttered. “All right, now to test the enchantments.” She snipped her scissors. “Hold still so I don’t cut you.”
“You can’t,” Shiv grunted.
“These are moonsteel,” Fel said.
“My kitchen knife’s moonsteel too. I don’t think I can put my kitchen knife very deep into myself before my Adamantine Adaption kicks in and makes the knife break.”
“Trust him,” Uva said. “He’s harder than he looks.”
Fel stared at Shiv’s skin. “Well, he looks like he’s got a sheen of adamantine lining his skin. Fine. I’ll be careless.” She paused, then barked a laugh. “I can believe this. Uva—I was right!”
“What?” Uva said, frowning.
“I always said you would probably end up falling for an automaton, considering how hard and strong they are—how ruggedly reliable compared to a normal flesh and blood Umbral or Weaver. Well. I fear the poor bots have been outdone.
“Fel,” Uva said, her voice edged with annoyance.
“But I must admit, I didn’t see this one coming. What is he? Master-Tier toughness? Master-Tier strength? What other Master-Tier does he have? Cooking?”
“How did you know?” Shiv muttered.
“Because you mentioned a kitchen knife. And you spoke with all the pride of a craftsman.” Fel grinned slightly. It was a very Uva expression. “And the fact that Uva doesn’t go for underachievers.”
“Fel?” Uva’s hiss sounded like a lake bubbling with corrosive acid.
“Fine! Testing!” Fel declared.
She had swiped two clean cuts across his jacket and shirt, but the edge bounced off his skin. The clothing split open, only to stitch itself back together in under a minute.
“That was quick,” Shiv muttered.
“These pieces will mend so long as there is still twenty percent of the fabric intact. The silk will mend faster than the other materials because it’s easier to manipulate. Such is how the Self-Mending enchantment goes.”
“Yeah,” Shiv said, glancing at his Magebreaker. “This thing takes four hours to fix itself.”
“Well. The more complicated and dense the material, the slower the process.” Fel finished. She stared at Uva and grinned. “Now, Shiv, if you feel the need to rip off your clothes off for whatever reason, you can. Just remember to keep them close enough together so they mend themselves. Don’t be too rough, though.”
Uva frowned at her sister.
“What,” Fel leaned in close and whispered to Shiv. “It’s probably part of what she had in mind when she requested these enchantments anyway.”
“Fel, I’m going to kill you,” Uva snarled.
Fel grinned. “You know how hard it is to make Uva ask for help? She came to me saying, ‘Fel, you’re focused more on the seamstress side of things.’”
“Fel,” Uva said, reaching out to strangle her sister.
Fel simply ducked behind Shiv away, knowing Uva didn’t actually mean any harm.
“She must like you something fierce to do that,” Fel said, taunting Uva while making Shiv feel pretty good at the same time. “Oh, when you’re back on duty, tell Sister Ikki that she owes me twenty five Shards.”
Uva was borderline livid. “That damned girl—she put you up to this? Shiv. Stand aside. I will murder my sister. Then you can put her body in your cloak and cook her. We’ll give Ikki some special meat tomorrow.”
Shiv blinked. Wow, that’s dark and murderous and… shit, it’s also kind of hot.
After that, Shiv left the store with his bone armor stored and Uva dragging him along. She didn’t bother looking at her sister. Instead, she stormed toward the door, grumbling under her breath the entire way.
“Remember to treat her right, Shiv,” Fel called after them. “I’d threaten to kill you if you hurt her feelings, but I think she might hurt you first.”
Shiv looked at Uva and then back at Fel. He guessed her assessment might be accurate. Psychomancy was a skill he had, but it was also his greatest vulnerability. Unless he spontaneously developed magical resistance, that was one vulnerability he’d probably have to deal with for a long, long time. Psychomancy didn’t kill a person. Psychomancy just left him broken. Even if he could recover, that was probably hours or days he’d spend comatose, and during that time, anything could be done to him.
Sometimes, being dead-dead was better than being a slave.
“I can’t believe her,” Uva said, huffing as he left the store.
“Well, she’s a sister. Sisters bully each other, I think,” Shiv muttered. “I wouldn’t know. Don’t have a sibling.”
“Well, I would beg to differ.”
“What do you mean?” Shiv said.
“You and Adam practically sound like brothers.”
Shiv snorted. “Me and Adam, brothers? Really?
“The way you treat each other reminds me of my sister.”
“Oh,” Shiv said. “I think I understand your pain now.”
“Oh, and that’s what it took to get empathy. Comparing my sister to the Young Lord.” Uva pouted.
Shiv tried not to laugh, and failed.
“Don’t laugh! Stop it!” She smacked his chest and he just laughed harder. “Did she really say you were going to date an automaton? Did you?”
Uva stared down at the ground. “It was a phase.”
“Oh, I gotta hear about this.”
“It was a phase, and you will not hear about this,” Uva said, stomping forward, exaggerating her temper.
“Thanks for the clothes,” Shiv exclaimed, before she could run off. Uva paused, sighed, and turned around. They continued their walk like nothing happened. A beat later, both of them snorted.
“I’m trying to imagine you with an automaton,” Shiv said.
“I know. Please stop.” Uva covered her face.
They walked alongside each other, passing stores and looking at the people. For a while, they continued in silence. Uva hummed.“This is nice.”
“What, in the city, seeing things, not killing anyone for a while, not breaking anything? Yeah? It is.”
Uva considered something. “Would you like to go somewhere, Shiv?”
“Where?” Shiv asked.
“A museum.”
Shiv was surprised. No one had invited me to go to a museum before. But then again, no one had ever invited me to go anywhere. “Sure. I’ve never been to a museum. Not even on the top side.”
“Well, I suppose a Repository of Lost Things will be your first museum.”
“Repository of Lost Things?” he said.
“It’s what the museum is called,” Uva replied. “I think you will find it interesting. It gives a history of the world, and it shows you things that have been lost and found again.”
He stared at her. “Well, let’s get airborne and you can point the way.”
He reached out with his field, and she shook her head. “It’s walkable. We don’t need to rush everything.”
Shiv began to retract his hand, but then she hooked her arm around his. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want your arm.”
Shiv paused, then smiled. “Got it.”
A Repository of Lost Things was an odd building. It had all manner of different bricks, stones, clay, and other materials forming its exterior. Ultimately, it looked like a child’s first building, which was impressive because, if you knew anything about children, having them build a building usually meant the building was going to collapse and the child was going to cry. Most peculiar of all was the gleaming glass front door painted with countless different art styles and moments.
Shiv’s Foreshadowing started to tremble. But it didn’t give him any visions. Not yet, at least.
They entered the interior, and Shiv was surprised to find how vacant it was and how nice and polished the floor was. He looked down, saw himself and Uva in the reflection—she in her coat with the buttons, him in his new ensemble, his new self-mending cave-biter ensemble.
“Clothes are pretty nice,” Shiv wondered. “Thanks.” Shiv paused. “You know, I could have paid for that. I’m willing to pay for it.”
Uva rolled her eyes. “I could have mind-broken the Jealousy and brought it back to Weave.” She bumped her shoulder into him affectionately. “You’re not the only one capable of giving gifts, Shiv. Stop being uncomfortable. I’m glad that you like them. I’m glad that you’re happy.”
And that made Shiv feel a particular way. “I don’t think I ever heard anyone say that to me before.”
She paused. “Then the world has been unkind to you, and we have much to make up for that.”
The ticketing counter at the museum was manned by an automaton. It seemed to know Uva pretty well, and waved the two of them in.
“Thanks for saving Passage,” the automaton said, waving at Shiv.
Shiv waved back. “No problem, citizen. Didn’t do it alone. Just keep your nose clean. Don’t snort any Drift.”
The automaton paused.
Uva slapped him in the chest. “What was that?”
Shiv pulled his arms back and puffed his chest out. “I’m just trying to do my civic duty and make sure the citizens in this city stay upright and your job stays easy.”
She stared at him. “I’m beginning to see why Adam gets annoyed at you sometimes.”
“Yeah… wait, does that make me Fel? Oh, no, are you dating your own sister’s male counterpart.”
Uva looked absolutely horrified. She gave him a gagging laugh. “Please don’t ever say that again.”
Shiv tried to keep his own composure. “No promises, I won’t bring it up when we argue. It’ll be my secret weapon.”
“My sympathy for Adam grows…”
As Shiv went through the repository, Uva introduced her favorite exhibits to him. He could tell why. Most of the mannequins had specific styles of clothing: Necrotech, Weave, First Court, Descenders, and Compact. All the Five Faces were represented here, but to his surprise, some stuff from surface was here as well.
It was at the Abyssal War, or the Surfacer Invasion Exhibit, that Shiv found himself stuck and entranced.
“Yeah, that’s Republic armor, alright,” Shiv whispered, staring at a skeleton clad in corroded Twilight Republic heavy armor. This one was a mage. Apparently, the Necrotechs raised the poor bastard and made him fight his own side before he died a second time. The Republic would hate that. Shiv didn’t even know how he felt about that. He kept his distance from the armor just in case there was any Necromancy left.
On the ground beside the skeleton was a cube-shaped construct. It was supposedly a Light Caster, something that could summon spheres of true sunlight. It was how the Republic supposedly held positions in the Abyss as they fought their way down.
“Estimated 5 million dead on the Republic’s side,” Shiv gawked. “That’s… how long did the war even last?’
“Six months.”
Shiv shook his head. “God, I didn’t even know the Republic had that many people to lose.”
She stared at him. “It seems that your Ascendants, they…” Uva didn’t finish what she originally wanted to say. “The Composer is not a normal goddess. We are thankful for her every day. We Umbrals would not be free or in the place we are without her protection. And for her honesty about her own failings. I’m sorry you didn’t have someone like that in your life before.”
Shiv nodded. “Yeah, well, all I could say is that she left a pretty good impression in terms of gods. The Challenger—he just takes notice when I do something violent or interesting. He reminds me of a drunk asshole at a bar egging people on when they fight.”
“Ah,” Uva hummed. “Oh, orc god, who noticed you because you charmed an orc.” Uva paused. “Now, and before you ask, no, I am not fighting over you for some orc in a twisted love triangle.”
“Oh, so you’re ceding me to 812?” Shiv laughed.
“No. If 812 comes, I will break his mind and leave him comatose so he doesn’t reincarnate at all, and we will go on our merry lives without him.” Uva voice was edged with cold violence. Shiv felt a shiver run up his spine, and a surge of heat rush somewhere else. Gods, that’s hot.
Then, two exhibits over, Shiv himself stopped again, halted at the sight of a most peculiar set of armor. It was humanoid, lacking specific detail, but it was heavy, dense with adamantine metal, and it had several complicated-looking tubes bolted to its four arms, shoulders, and what looked like an artillery piece on its back.
“What are those?”
“They’re called guns,” Uva explained. “The ones on their arms were capable of incredible feats of Pyromancy. The ones on their shoulder could unleash brutal telekinetic waves. And the mechanism on their back was said to be able to summon a storm of steel from the skies above. Steel that awoke and sought their own targets.”
“Sounds pretty useful,” Shiv said, as a thought passed through him. “Wonder if there’s some place to get armor like that.”
“Ah,” Uva coughed. “There is… well, it’s complicated. And this isn’t entirely an armor, but a special automaton. One of the Penitent Chassis, who betrayed their old masters and slew their pilots during the Battle of Great London.”
In the backdrop, a painting portrayed a golden clock tower unleashing magic at a sky filled with what seemed to be metal birds.
“What’s happening in the picture?”
“That is the Legacy Empire invasion of New Albion, before it became the New Albion we knew,” she paused. “Historians call this moment the Second Blitz. They also think it was the moment that finally broke the power of the old monarchy and allowed the Faceless Queen and the agents of Aviary to seize the throne. And thus, New Albion is what it is today—a kingdom ruled by spies. A kingdom that can’t seem to remove its fingers from everyone else’s business.” She shook her head. “Legacy Empire ruined more than one thing for all of us.”
“I don’t know much of anything about a Legacy Empire either. They the ones hiding in Forbidden Africa?” Shiv frowned. He remembered there were places that few Pathbearers dared tread.
“The remnants of old humanity hidden,” Uva explained, “or at least that’s what they call themselves. These Penitent Chassis are awakened automata, but also functionally a little more than slaves. They were bound and used to shroud the warriors of the Legacy Empire from the system?”
“Wait, you can hide from the system?” Shiv was stunned.
“It is, as long as you are never exposed to mana. It takes time to be integrated, and the pilots within the chassis never were.”
“That is not entirely true. They experienced a taste of the system before the end. Before we euthanized them.” A mechanical voice sounded behind them, and Shiv spun on his heels. His gravitic field rippled as he prepared to—
Shiv froze.
A tall, skeletal automaton stood before him, a hammer in one hand, a paintbrush in the other. This automaton, however, looked broken in many ways—even fragile. It resembled a strip of spine connected to a length of alloyed skull, missing a jaw. Interestingly, the underside of the skull was enough—more than enough for someone to fit their head through. More than enough for Shiv, at the very least.
It was then that Shiv noticed the bare-bones frame of the automaton was also partially painted. Artwork of what looked like a crippled, one limbed tiger bleeding atop a mountain was the dominant motif.
The limbs of this automaton were ragged and ramshackle, as if cobbled together from scrap. It had two delicate manipulator hands on two while there were two massive industrial-purpose arms extending from its lower back. The limbs on the bottom seemed to be missing hands or something else.
Those guns look like they fit pretty good there, Shiv thought.
The bot’s legs were the densest part of its body, but they too were cracked and slightly compromised. Shiv had no idea what could do this to adamantine—the machine even shared a similar metallic hue with his skin.
The automaton took every step with strain, but it regarded him with fascination, and Shiv looked back at it with confusion and rising awe.
His Foreshadowing felt like an earthquake by now.
Then, Uva did something surprising as well. “Can Hu!” she said, sounding happy to see the automaton. “I didn’t know you were here tonight.”
“I’m here most nights,” Can Hu said, “reliving old days, trying to find old memories lost to me.”
“Speaking of lost things,” Uva said, gesturing toward Can Hu, “The one here is a Penitent.”
“Or what remains of one,” Can Hu explained. It’s voice calm but tinged with lingering sorrow. It lowered its body and leaned it closer to gaze at Shiv. “Do I… know you? I am getting a feeling… I feel a weight…”
And just when Shiv was about to reply, Foreshadowing overtook him.
Foreshadowing: There are eleven penitent Chassis left in the world. Eleven. Another died three days ago, murdered by the Legacy Empire for its betrayal. The remainder are scattered everywhere. One is in Jewel’s End, in a place where the four Serpents Kings rule and Pathbearers are called Cultivators. One serves the Storm King’s court in the Lost Atlantic. And the rest… Are beyond your knowing for now.
But this one, this one is special. This one lingered here for years. They found their way down to the Abyss, cast off as scrap after barely surviving an encounter on the surface. They awoke, broken but alive, and eventually, they were discovered by a group of patrolling Umbrals. The Composer, driven by appreciation of history and story, allowed broken Can Hu to stay even after it revealed what it was, who it used to serve.
Then, for years, it languished. For years, he simply existed in the city, alive, granted a measure of peace, but deprived of purpose and Path.
Can Hu’s Skills remained shattered. Its body broken, unable to heal. Its Toughness is ruined. Its ability to fight, damaged beyond repair. But Can Hu was not a machine built for despair, but to adapt. And in its yearning is a dream to rise and reforge itself anew. And so it continued to forge.
So, what was a weapon, became a maker of weapons…
And until this point, the Penitent that once progressed along the Path of the Artillerist found itself painting, building, and growing new skills to replace the broken in its soul. It thought that if it could not stand alone, perhaps it could build new armor for itself, that its broken body could be borne by another machine.
But it never expected its purpose to return in the shape of one beyond death…
Foreshadowing > 25
Shiv blinked as the vision finally faded. Shiv found Uva clutching his arm. “Shiv? Are you all right?”
“No, that was…” Shiv then noticed the machine was reacting the same way. “Foreshadowing.”
“You have the skill too,” Can Hu intoned. “It is one of the few skills I have left that are not sundered. That are not broken. After I broke my bonds and betrayed my masters.”
Shiv swallowed. “What did you see of me.”
“That you need armor-armor-armor.” Can Hu dropped his hammer and spasmed. “Something that has its own v-vitality. Something like me.”
Uva looked between them before she leaned closer to Shiv. “You’re looking for armor? Why?”
Shiv coughed. “I, uh, apparently I’m a mana bomb when it comes to Necromancy.”
“What?”
“If a Necromantic spell hits me, if it’s strong enough, it could destroy an entire portion of the Abyss. That’s why Confriga’s whip did what it did.”
She stared at him. “Truly?”
“Yeah. Valor found out while testing me in the Hallowed Depths. I, uh, I’m never going there again. Not without a lot of protection.”
“We… must talk,” Can Hu said, staggering closer to them. “I have waited long… But we must talk. We have… something the other needs. Many things the other also needs…”
“Can Hu,” Uva said, uncomfortable. “You are—”
“Broken,” the Penitent repeated. “I know. But he is not. You have armor. But it is dead. It cannot guard you against Necromancy. You are strong where I am broken. And I can forge. I can create. And you know me…” Can Hu spasmed again, the damage inflicted on it more than just physical.
“Can Hu,” Uva said, looking uncomfortable. “I know that you wish to be used in battle again but…”
“You know what it is like,” Can Hu said, speaking to Shiv. “You know. To languish. To watch the world rise as you rot. I saw. You know. Imagine. Imagine falling. Not even being denied. But being lost to yourself. Imagine going back to what you were from what you are now.”
The automaton’s words made Shiv sick. “That’s hell.”
“So you understand.” Can Hu reached out with a shaking hand. “Please. Please. Consider. Please.” It looked at the model chassis in the exhibit. “Perhaps… over dinner?”
Shiv paused. “Can you even eat?”
A tube shot out from under Can Hu’s skull. “I have a tasting apparatus. I cannot digest, but flavor is appreciated.”
Shiv almost laughed. Valor was going to hate this.
“You are a chef?” Can Hu asked.
“Yes,” Shiv said. “You saw that in your vision?”
“Indeed. I make cooking appliances for side-income,” Can Hu said, sounding almost excited. “I can show you. We can start there.”
Shiv and Uva looked at each other.
“Up for a late night meal with a mysterious bot?” Shiv asked.
“Never a dull day with you,” Uva replied.
Comments
Moses
I’m liking this. Very much so
Ekko
Can Hu is such an interesting Addition to the cast
