An Unusual Remnant

A faint summery breeze blew across Avalon one sunny afternoon. Stepping out from the courtyard of the ruined academy he held so dear, Scraps decided to test his newly-added wing augmentations by going on a quick flight. If only his creators could see him, taking to the skies with such ease despite having never done so before! It felt so natural, he almost didn't realize how far he was venturing before he took a good look at the scenery below him. "I don't think I've been to this part of the mainland yet," he thought to himself, making an educated guess that he was venturing quite a ways south. "I wonder what's down this way?" It took a while before he found out, discovering a landmark he hadn't yet seen before.

Before him, in the distance, stood a power plant, ravaged by the eruption and long forgotten by time. "A power plant? I didn't think there was one this far south! I don't see any sign of anyone around, though..."
It was peculiar, not picking up on anything at a glance. Sure, there were likely some critters down below, but... not even the slightest hint of Amicabot activity? Given the nature of the building and the state it was in... maybe there was good reason for that.
"...Would going in there even be safe," Scraps pondered. "I don't know how long it's been since the eruption, and if that place suffered a meltdown... it might still be radioactive. Still, I can't help but wonder if there's anyone inside that might need help... or maybe some spare parts I could salvage, worst case scenario..." ...He shrugged. "...In any case, there's only one way to find out. I probably should still be careful, but... nothing ventured, nothing gained!" A slight adjustment of position, and... boom! He was making his way down, gearing for a landing.

The descent was rapid, but the landing onto the main platform the plant was situated on was... surprisingly not all bad. Scraps stumbled a bit from the abrupt dismount, but fortunately didn't tumble off into the woods below. He scoured the perimeter for a moment before finally managing to locate the entrance... and it was, surprisingly, not closed off. "...Oh wow," he thought aloud. "This place is wide open, huh?" A pause. "...I'm used to exploring ruins, but this is a whole new level of desolate... and creepy." A thought punctuated by a shudder, followed by making his way in. This was nowhere near a safe place, but... what could it hurt by giving it a quick look around to see what was salvageable?

"Hello?" Echo. "Anyone here?" Echo. "...Anyone?"

As he entered the lobby, his internal systems gave him a jolt, a warning echoing through the modules in his horns. Maybe if they were properly calibrated, he could recieve wireless signals... but for now, their only usage was to alert him of errors in his system that needed resolving. Mainly:
[WARNING: AMBIENT RADIATION READING AT MODERATELY UNSAFE LEVELS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.] Ow, headache.
"O-okay, okay. Maybe coming here was a slight mistake after all--" Sting. "I should make this quick." Sting. "Let's see..."
Was this what uncontrolled radiation felt like? Scraps could feel an unpleasant tingle resonating through his circuitry, his shiny new augments fizzling every now and then... and his optics starting to blur. Surely, staying here for extended periods of time was a bad idea--but hey, it'd be even worse if he was something organic. Though, unbeknownst to him, something was still here. It heard him, whether through the buzzing of his augments or his own mental dialogue's volume being a tad too high. He didn't seem to register any footsteps behind him as he searched... but one thing definitely did get his attention. A voice... that seemed to be coming from the world's worst drive-through speaker.

"A presence has been detected. Inorganic. Unfit for present conditions. State your business for entering such a hazardous location."
Once again, his diagnostics chimed in. Ambient radiation levels going from warning to danger, urging him to evacuate. But how? Was something dangerously irradiated coming this way? Quickly, he looked around, despite his vision hiccups getting worse. "Wait, who's there?!" As he turned around... he found the source.

It was... definitely another Amicabot, but one that exuded wrongness from every facet of its body. Even in the low light, its garish coloration stood out. It looked almost like a children's toy, cobbled together from various odds and ends that didn't look like they belonged together. Frayed wires poked out from its hips, and one of the joints of its mismatched arms--one resembling talons, the other a standard glove. At its waist was a container filled with some unidentifiable red fluid, a bauble resembling a heart pulsing from within--not to be mistaken for its glowing red core. But the most unsettling thing about this Amicabot was its face; its eyes were wide, staring, black holes peering straight through anything, and in place of a mouth was a speaker on its chin--no doubt the source of its grainy, unintelligible voice. It tottered its way over, once again addressing him.
"Reinstating question due to lack of initial response. What is your business here? Even your internal processes are warning you about how dangerous being here is."
...Funny, could it hear his diagnostics telling him to run? No, right?

Regardless, he was still frightened, backing away from this colorful--and very much irradiated Amicabot. "O-oh. Okay." A nervous smile crept up onto his beak as he tried to look anywhere but into this bizarre Amicabot's eyes. "So you're--" sting. "You're the only one here?"
It responded once again in its unclear voice. "The surrounding land is empty. You are the first visitor in ████████████ years." That sounded... viscerally painful for his auditory processors and its vocal system. "R... right."
No matter how many steps back he took, it only seemed to step closer, seeming completely unaware of his discomfort from even being near it. A discomfort that worsened by the feeling of his augments abruptly shutting off, his vision completely unable to form a coherent picture of the bot in front of him. "D-do you have to stand so close??" The bot tilted its head, still slowly shambling toward him. "You are quiet," it responded, almost naively. "Is there a problem?" "Well, uh--" he fumbled, "I-I don't want to be rude, but--you're kinda--giving off a lot of radiation and I kind of really don't want to break down so far from home?!"
"Oh." It stopped, its own mechanisms whirring to life abruptly... just for a set of thrusters somewhere on its limbs to click on and quickly propel it a distance backwards from him. As it touched back down, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"My apologies." "...Thanks?" What a strange moment of kinship this was--finding another Amicabot that could fly, albeit in a much different manner than him.

Scraps took a moment to smooth out the feathers adorning his head, noticing they'd been ruffled ever since this strange bot found him. "Okay, so... now that I'm no longer in danger of overloading," he said, reaching out in a friendly gesture, "my name is Scraps! I was a training instructor at the Avalonian Defense Academy! ...Y'know, before... everything." It almost sounded like he'd rehearsed that introduction. "What about you," he continued... still unnerved by this bot's gaze. "Do you have something I could call you by? A name, a serial number... anything?" It sat silent through his whole spiel, but then... something unusual happened. Its unnervingly dilated pupils shrank in a moment of realization, and... its formerly featureless jaw opened up wide, revealing typical Amicabot teeth (albeit what looked like too many of them) and a pair of wires most likely connected to the speaker on its chin. It was shaking, practically crackling with radiation as its voice reached an almost roar. "No. I do not. NO ONE ASSIGNED ME ONE."
Whoops, there go Scraps' feathers ruffling again. "...I... see. Okay, then, touchy subject--"
As abruptly as its expression changed, it reverted back to normal, its jaw snapping shut with a distinct click. "Unless... you could...?"

What an awkward proposition this was. Once again trying to calm himself, Scraps hesitantly replied, "...I wouldn't know where to start. You sure your creators didn't leave any sort of records on you?"
"None that survived. No traces of them, either. I arrived here alone."
"Oh... well, I guess you're already aware it's just us left now."
Again its pupils abruptly shrank. ...Oh no. Was it about to start screaming again? "...Just... Us." it parroted. "That is distressing to hear." It's getting shaky again...
Quickly, Scraps tried to reassure them. "I know, but--it's not as bad as it sounds! You could just as easily find another bot who'd be more than willing to--"
"You're contradicting yourself."
"...What?"
Without warning, it made that frightful face again, thrusters abruptly clicking back on just to hurl itself right at Scraps, stopping just short of crashing right into them. Its opened muzzle was just about touching the tip of his beak as it jabbed an accusatory finger right into his chest, just above his core. "YOU JUST SAID IT WAS ONLY US LEFT." "JUST US BOTS," Scraps hastily clarified, panic evident in his voice. "It's just us bots left!!! We're not the only ones left on the mainland, nor the rest of the planet!! Please, calm down and stop jumping to conclusions!"
[DANGER: UNSAFE RADIATION LEVELS DETECTED. CORE AT RISK OF OVERLOADING. COMMENCING EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN OF VITAL PROCESSES TO AVOID FURTHER INTERNAL DAMAGE.]

Scraps quickly shoved the bot backward in hearing that warning from his diagnostics system shake his processing unit, desperate to put some distance between them before... before...
"N-no," he pleaded, already struggling to stay online, "no, not... here..." He struggled to turn himself in the direction of the open door, but his legs weren't moving. "Just... let me... get... out... si... de..." Clunk. Scraps has logged out. But what of this aberrant menace?
...It was just sitting there, having tumbled backward after the shove. It shook itself off before gazing down at the now-downed body of Scraps, feeling a twinge of... pity?  "...So," it seemed to say to absolutely no one, "that's what you were worried about. Just a touch was enough to..." It paused, tilting its gaze down to the floor in regret. "...I'm sorry," it whispered. "I did not mean to do that." Well, now what? They're back to being all alone again, after receiving the first company they had ever since they powered on for the first time. ...It couldn't have that. It wouldn't have that.

...Scraps later awoke to find himself outside the power plant, miraculously still in one piece. According to his diagnostics, the prolonged exposure damaged his optics, but mercifully nothing else. His core is stable, everything else seems to be working right... well, that's another issue on the list of things to fix when he gets back to the academy. "That was close. At least I'm out of there... I don't want to think about how long decontaminating from all that is gonna take..." But as his hardlight wings buzzed back to life, something occurred to him. "But wait," he questioned, not expecting any response, "how did I get out here in the first place?"
"Remaining sound after all of that contact... You truly are something else."
Ah, there's that hazy voice again. Scraps lifted his head to see that strange bot from before peering out from the doorway. Sizzling servos, their garish colors seemed even brighter now that they were out in natural light. It watched him inquisitively, as if trying to make absolutely sure he was alright. "Thank you for that," he called back. "But, uh, from now on, keep keeping your distance, okay?" "Understood," it responded with a thumbs up before slowly making its way back into the plant.
"W-wait," Scraps called again, "you don't need to go back inside."
It stopped, stepping back out slightly as if moving at half speed. "...I don't?"
"Well, what's the sense of going back into that empty old building? You couldn't find anything you were looking for in there. A name, a purpose... You don't have to stay in there, with nothing to go off of and no one to offer you guidance. It's clear the solitude of this place is... uh, getting to you."
"...But even being near me proved harmful to you. Wouldn't that be true for other Amicabots, too?"
"...Yeah, that's... still a bit of a problem, sure, but--you could get that fixed if you find the right people, I'm sure of it!"
...Oh, it is capable of blinking. Huh. "...But your eyes--"
"Like I said! There's bound to be a bot out here who could fix that for me! If not, I could find the components I need to do it myself!" ...Though, Scraps realized in saying that, maybe he would need to find some additional help in putting those components in. It's one thing when it's working on one's body or limbs, but the eyes... probably not the best do-it-yourself repair. Speaking of, the other bot's looking at him in what is clearly confusion, as if presented with a completely alien concept.
"...We can repair ourselves?"
"Of course! Everyone's warranties are probably all voided by now, anyway!" ...Well, that was out of nowhere, but then again, who's going to enforce that sort of thing? Even the most high-end bots owned by the most prestigious of folks back in the day deserve the right to repair!
It blinked again, quizzically. Scraps continued rallying. "Point is, you know the door's wide open. So why not go through it and out to see the world? Those thrusters of yours could probably get you pretty far, if you tried. So... what's stopping you?"

Despite its largely unreadable face, it was clear this thing was pretty deep in thought. For being a complete stranger to them, Scraps did make some pretty decent points about everything just now. A world filled with countless other bots, all willing to help each other out with maintaining themselves and giving each other new purpose... Could such a world give them what they've lacked for so long?
Its inky eyes seemed to light up. "...You're right," it conceded. "At this point... what do I have to lose?"
Scraps beamed. "There you go!"
It exited the building, still unsteady, but with a bit of confidence to its... almost disorienting stride. "I thank you, Scraps," it said, thrusters kicking on with a deep bow of gratitude. "No matter what waits for me out there, I will never forget you for giving me the courage to go find it."
Scraps grinned back, clearly a little bashful. "It's no trouble at all. Heck, I daresay it's in my programming!"
"May we meet again."
With that, it took off, its flight... actually somehow less dizzying than just watching it hobble around. Maybe its original purpose was something aerial? Who knows?
"Take care out there!"
Scraps sat there waving, sending it off until it veered off and out of sight. But as he sat there, giving himself one last check to make sure he was fine to fly... something occurred to him. Something terrible, the kind of nagging thing that feels like something stuck in one's back teeth. "As happy as I am for them... why do I get the feeling I've made a terrible mistake?" Only time will tell if it actually was a mistake to let this aberrant bot loose... but for now, there were bigger fish to fry--damaged optics are not something one can just let sit.

Submitted By benightedswallow
Submitted: 5 months ago ・ Last Updated: 5 months ago