Town of Living Gears, Part 7

Hello once again to the beginning of the end, where this story inevitably folds onto itself after getting through all of that psychological robot talk. This last arc will, like the last arc I just did be done in tandem and will be one continuous stream of events that will lead to the end of everything in this world and this story. That also means pushing these out faster so expect more of these. Here you go, “Part 7”.

I had recounted everything I knew to Wren, who listened intently. I did no means to add euphemism to my information, and so when I told him of his sister and of how I knew of the origin of my name, he seemed oddly placid. Although I knew of what my purpose was to be, I still could not find a valid means in achieving it nor could I find a valid reason. To bring down everything that is the structure of this town and of this horrid world is something much too easy to say. On my body, I had my refurbished iron rod, which was now much heavier than before and also looked much more refined. I also brandished the iron knife, and the key. Such a combination of armaments makes it seem like I was destined for hand to hand combat. Or some kind of destruction brought by brute force. I found it hard to take it as the case.

Wren said with the recent information that Kloe and I had discovered, that it would mean having to schedule another meeting with their group. They called it Huer. A combination of the words human and gear. I found the name to be logically sound, it was an abbreviation and it embodied the mantra of their people. They were a group who wanted to see robots prosper in a time where they had just obtained them. They hated the new governmental way of controlling robots, and in retaliation, have found me, and my purpose. In a way, as Wren had told me, it was revenge. Them helping me enact the destruction of this world and everything in it was revenge for what they had done to the robots. That much, I can see logically, though what I still found illogical is the hate for the world. It was an immensely logical world. But I knew that bringing it up with Wren for a prolonged period of time would not be very well for me.

That day Wren had told me to bring flowers to the clock tower. I knew not of the gesture, but knew very well that the clock tower was a place of great importance to Wren. He had told me that he wanted to preserve the sanctity of the clock tower, and had meant to give flowers to Marianne when he was given the chance. It appears that the chance only proved viable now, however, he himself still could not find time to place them. And so I was tasked with flowers in my hand to go to the clock tower and place them under the portrait. Such a task in hindsight seemed to be a task that needed no such specific instructions as to him telling me that I should not interact with much in the clock tower. When I was with Kloe, I remembered that specific point as not being so much of a problem, as we simply looked at the portrait and went about our way. I left Wren’s home aptly that day, and with the flowers in my hand, I set out for the clock tower. The town that day was quite quiet, as usual, which to my mantra was not that different. I traversed to the tower with little to no trouble, though when I had arrived there, I saw a fluctuation of people whom I never saw before. I had never noticed them not in the manner in which I could not match their faces to the ones in my database, but rather their clothes were inherently different. The masks they wore were different, in the sense that Kloe wore a mask that was white and covered only her mouth, but the people there wore masks that covered their entire face. They had two bulging eye sections that made it impossible to see their actual eyes under normal circumstances. Their clothing were uniform, and although not any different from formal wear, still stood to have some kind of intimidation in mind. I scanned their entire bodies and found that their pocket areas were especially heavy. They wore gloves, and decided to conceal their hands behind them in idle. I was peering at them from the side, and if I was slow enough, would surely be able to slip past them. I clutched onto the knife in my pockets, and at the time, could not discern why.

I moved out of my position and slowly came closer to the stairs of the clock tower. I knew very well that my goal wasn’t to reveal my identity to those who had no volition in knowing me or Wren. If I were to be caught, I would reveal to be Wren’s apprentice, though if they were to restrain me, they would figure out that I was a robot. I hid in my hood, but I knew that I had to get past them to the stairs. I slowly crept up to them, and as I got within a few meters, I noticed something in their hands. It was a rectangular box with two fang like protrusions sticking out at the end. There was a button on the box, and although I did not know what the object was, something in my systems told me it was dangerous. I was in my own way, scared, I think. Klover’s image popped up in my database, along with the object. Something about them connected. Perhaps Klover gave me sufficient knowledge of the object, and yet, I was actively losing my memories of him as each day passed. Something in me didn’t want to be spared the bad end of that object. Something in me sprung up, and my body began moving all of its own. Every gear in my body began spinning in circles, and then my hand gripped onto the iron knife and I brought it’s handle straight into the head of the man to my right. I felt his weight leave his body, and that was the queue I needed to bring my knife towards the throat of the other man, who just barely had enough time to react. I restricted his hands behind his back, and made his stare into my knife.

“Why are you here?” I asked him, trying to synthesis my voice to appear less robotic. My actions seemed completely logical. Information needed to be garnered. They were the only ones that could garner me. The man didn’t speak, but as I brought the knife closer to his exposed neck, he began squirming in place. His heartbeat raced, and he began sweating. His pulse disturbed me, it was far too irregular for me. Far too inhuman. I asked again, “Why are you present here at the clock tower?”

He didn’t answer again. I grew tired of the farce. The flowers in my hands were already crushed, and I knew Wren would not take that if I told him. I made sure to set it in my database to lock that information. Such is my secret. I brought the knife to his neck, and allowed his skin to feel the blade. I didn’t press hard enough to facilitate any blood, and I had no intention of creating such a scene. I’m sure if I did, Wren, and Kloe, and everyone at Huer would not take kindly to me. I was still unsure if destroying the world would even constitute to physical intrusion. Perhaps if I had killed any one of those men, I may have taken a step closer to destroying the world, I thought. Something in me told me that such an ideal would make me more human. After all, it is only within a human’s hands that they can take another’s life. Robots were never meant to do that, not in my make, or any make.

“I know not of why you are here, but if you refuse to tell me, I will have to dispatch you.” The man did not falter. I did not wish to take his life, and so I brought the handle of my knife to his head.  Once I felt the weight of his body leave, I brought him down with the other man. I stared at the two weightless bodies, and then wondered if leaving them in such conditions would constitute to foul play. I did not want to make such a risk, and so I dragged both of their bodies away from the clock tower, and out of public sight. Once that was done, I walked up to the clock tower, felt my hands around the area where Kloe had done, and entered the to the room. The flowers in my hands were crushed, but even so I placed them onto the floor beneath the portrait. I engraved such a scene in my head. A lone room, with only a single portrait, and now charred and torn flowers beneath. I thought back to what Wren had warned me of. I was not to linger around the preceding area. I respected his wishes, though I knew that no logical reason could come about it. I left the clock tower and as I came back to Wren’s home, I noticed that Wren was gone. I took my iron knife, and then felt it’s blade on my hand. There was a metallic tinge to it as I brought it down and allowed it to scratch the palm of my pseudo limb and leave a rough line of the path that the blade had taken. I looked at the outline of the line, and then closed my eyes, etching it’s shape and depth into my database. My actions that day would spell the doom for everyone in the world. It came as a surprise to me when I had begun looping the actions I had done in my head and arrived at a logical solution. Those in power follow a stringent rule when they oversee a populace. One such action is to see to it that those who oppose them do not bring too much ill intent to the populace that has already been conformed. Seeing to my actions as an act of rebellion is logical. Wren would not enjoy the news, I was sure. Except, Wren and Kloe, and everyone else who was a part of the resistance, was already ready for some kind of fight. Whether my armaments were a sign of that or not, is something that I cannot say for sure.


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