35. Motions of the Machines

He heard every drop fall. Once again, he took residence in the basin under the antique once called home. These secret tunnels ravaged by mother nature were some of the last places Shayu felt at ease. Calcium-rich waters formed stalagmites and their dripping counterparts. Yet he always tore through them, just for that opulent noise. Each drip reverberated with the most hypnotic of ripples. Echoes soothed the tides of his heart. These little beads of love settled his waves, but they could never hope to pierce the whirlpool below the surface. "Legbuster."

The boy who robbed himself of freedom for the greatness of his home just for them to call him a devil in the skin of a man. A slave to the system shackled by duty. Sons used as toys. Lover who suffered an oh so tragic finale. Born under the night with no moon Sou and Morana ensured his life to be filled with strife, "Yet you still don't give in to defeat? Dynamo?" ever since their encounter though mundane the man never left his mind. Fangs grated against each other. "Sure I'll admit it! I know he's had a hard life!"

Shayu's tail smacked the walls.

"Yeah, he wasn't accepted for his time!" Teeth shattered the walls and bit at daydreams.

"They didn't appreciate your sacrifice! Made you a product of the world and slave to the system!" claws cut through an ached heart.

"Used! Abused! Everything stolen!" Knees buckled under the weight of acceptance.

"But why are you a hero for that!?" Shayu held his head. Human emotions destroyed his thoughts. All that was left beyond the shark was frustration. If only he could express it. "They only see the version of you they wanna portray...a star."

"They refuse to recognize your failures, that ire and scorn inside your heart- no to them you're a pure angel...of course you'd be." his voice quavered. Mind refused every command in favor of wishful thinking. The holder of the world dropped the weight upon Shayu's back. "We lived the same, Tobias. Those Astarama took everything from me, Tobias. They want me dead, Tobias."

"So why do they focus on what I haven't done!? They're too paranoid on what I could!" he stretched out to a figment of thought. "Tell me!" he was meant to be devoid of biased and emotion. Impossible after everything. Unobtainable. A sacrifice he wasn't willing to offer. Such a tortured existence was the machine that had the thought process of a human. Is this how he felt? Can he even feel in this age of iron animals he contributed to? "Why am I the monster to your knight?"

A swirl of confusion, rage, and the indescribable stole the shark's train of reasoning. How he begged for the suffering to end. No soul who suffered under the sun could offer the release he desired. Only he could do it. That's what the master spoke off. The reason he carried on would remain as his own, but his newfound family would push his dream to the brink of reality. "If ending even you is what it'll take, then with heaven as my witness I'll tear you down and that throne in the sky with a smile until my final breath."

The Blue Eden project....yes that's the sole reason he'd be alive, isn't it? Trust not in his own descendants to fix the issue he made- if that was even achievable.

And so much like a human fantasy Shayu's was shattered by the alarm of duty. Andromalius's pings were constant as that man was annoying. He ignored them. Too indulged with the contraption installed in his palms. Four red buttons were divided among his fingers and thumbs. His fingers came closer and closer together. Just one touch. "Don't even think of setting them off yet, brother."

Andromalius predicted. A voice note was sent from his end with the urgent tag. The shark inhaled a deep breath, before acknowledging the call, "What's the issue on your end? Brother?" his customer service voice ruled over anguish. His neck joints cracked at a sudden bend; quick to compose himself. "One second, there's saltwater in my vents."

He snorted loud enough for the world to hear, "Yes, I could tell," Andromalius agonized sensing strain behind his tone, "My invasion of the mining city has begun. With Sirti prepared our lockdown will come to fruition," this was a game. The cost of playing were the lives of others. Skylandria, Cnoc Dubh and Mandaly...they would only be the start. Andromalius went silent. Things had to be said before either hung up, Andromalius needed to be that speaker. "Please hold on, brother, speak to me if you need to but I will always assure you that these Astarama's karmic debt will be something to witness."

"They will suffer and no Vulcan would save them this round."

Shayu remained null on the topic. Waist shook to the sides with his tail cleaving deeper into the tunnel. Nose under the water detecting possible imbalances. Andromalius understood the weight of revenge; he too was chained to it. A reason to fight was all they needed, even if it was frowned upon by the world itself. Message delivered with non-vocal acceptance. A click ended the connection as the shark continued surfing. Pavettes on patrol awaiting stimulation to report. "Easy for you to say."

"Hmm?" reports went out from the last shipment meant for Sitri and their mole's scheme. Silverization transporting units ran into altercations through the oxidized side path. The footage couldn't be sent speaking of the damage done, "That signal…." they were near his position. Just a few networks away and he could get the ambush on that thorn in his side. Doubt was shattered by a sense of responsibility once his body fully submerged itself under the depths of the ocean.

...

"Hmmm...that boy," Andromalius grieved on the behalf of another. Maybe it wasn't the wisest idea on the Salamander's behalf to give the most trigger happy control over the bombs? But the decision wasn't one he could disprove, all that mattered was for him to slave away now. Deep in the heart of the Dubh mines, he remained in servitude.

The tungsten mines were still closed until the foreman made his return. Until then the gemstone mines had to be his workspace. Obviously, his appearance had to be masked; no issue for a frame such as Andromalius the mockingbird. Luckily the transition of workers from the other mines to this one was a last-minute arrangement, many weren't equipped with lenses to see in the dark. Precision type gemstones and emeralds had to be examined before harvesting for imperfections under black lights. None were on hand so protocol would wait. These caverns were similar to the coal mines. Dark sandy stones pulled from the depths needing another droid to sift through under water to see if fortune favored their labor. Andromalius was on the sifting duty today. His faux skin was removed with boulder after boulder the side of torsos sliding down the conveyer belt.

Infrared vision was useless and regular eyesight was a struggle, but that was life without light; life many prisoners lived. What type of life was this? Fitting for an insect or worm perhaps. A human life? Even the life of a dog did not deserve such treatment. But these beliefs remained silent, his hands sifted nets through a trough of running water. Emeralds for optical units sent down one chute and rubies for refining in weapon use down another. Endless and methodical. Days would pass before the cycle broke for either organic or inorganic slaves. Father time was slow to change the hand of the clock.

But then ever so often a bell rang. In normal culture, it meant the end of work, in these mines? Keep dreaming. That bell meant 'stop what you're doing and change shifts,' where diggers would excavate and the inverse. Sifters would drop their tools and have drill extensions put in place for the next two days. Of course humans didn't have to follow these rules. The working droid were the victims of this bullying.

"Hmm, is there an issue?" Andromalius walked down the tunnel and into a branching route. Light at such depths was a scare, especially when it shone with an orange hue. The driller, a low-end working-class droid needed to confess.

"Yes, while following an ore vein a lava line was punctured leading to the caldera. A report statement has been sent to Operator Baroque," the unit was nothing more than cast iron and spare parts hobbled together. Inferior mirror lenses and limbs that operated on a three joint structure for rigid movements. Their legs were also rusting away.

"I see, have you estimated how deep the caldera is from this point?" Andromalius peered into the ends of the hole. The crack lead into a far larger clearing of a lava bulb. The magma bubbled and toiled from pressure, splashing against the edge of the opening, "These functions were disabled in my processor upon arrival," a curling finger drew the worker droid to peer into the end. Andromalius scanned the unit's every inch. The shades of gray on every limb to the scratches. All the details needed to replicate an exact copy….well except one.

"From my estimates, the caldera from this angle is fifty….fi- fiii-f" Andromalius made it quick. The head severed with a clean rip. The rest of the body staggered before the identification plate was ripped off their stomach for the spy to analyze. One read and his own rewrote itself.

"Thank you for the sacrifice you've made," both arms came nearer to Andromalius's throat. He stepped past it. The corpse walked into the flames itself. Andromalius continued to drill, "Hmm. F-fiii-fi," his speaker scraped their range for a newfound frequency, "From my estimates," master mimics would sell their soul for such talent. "Report inbound, the caldera depths are an estimated fifty-three meters deep. Numbers of casualties have not been accounted for."

Andromalius the Androgynous sang the mockingbird's anthem. Hidden behind the new route he carved, masking the sounds his body made. Hull deepened from white to gray. Their torso shrunk and arm joints folded on each other to appear as if only three were in each. But...this was nothing noteworthy. This journey didn't need someone to follow.

Journeys were meant to be grand, extravagant, and adventurous. The life of a mundane mining droid had no place in the script.