Disclaimer: I don't own this. 9 belongs to Shane Acker.

This idea was inspired by talisman .9experament dot com, a site where you can create your own talisman.

A note from the beta of this story: There is an annotation in the story, marked with a number within parentheses like the following example (1). The explanation for this particular aspect of the story is located at the end notes of this story. Please read the story before reading the annotation. Thank you.

Light the Way

Prologue: The Start of the New World

9 was lost.

Not physically; he knew where he was in that regard. But mentally, he wandered aimlessly, thoughts blending and melding together in a big glump, sending his mind running around pointlessly in one big loop. He had been at it for days, and he knew the others were starting to worry, but something was bothering him and he just couldn't relax until he figured it out.

He was lying on his back, arms behind his head as he watched the clouds of dust above him as his thoughts finally started slowing down. The mechanisms in his eyes twisted and turned, tightening then dilating as he slipped closer and closer into rest mode.

Just as his eyes finally stopped twitching, something hit him in the side. 9 yelped in shock and jolted awake, to find 7 standing over him.

"What was that for?", 9 grumbled as 7 helped him get up.

"You're moping again." She crossed her arms and waited for the argument that was sure to come.

"Am not," pouted the younger stitchpunk.

"9….you need to let it go. They can't…. they can't come back," her voice was filled with sorrow, and 9 knew those words weren't meant just for him.

"We should be happy for them. They're free."

"….I know." 9 winced and turned around. He sounded even less convincing than she did. "That's not what's bothering me. I just need---some time to think." He started to stumble off, when a spring hit him on the cheek. 9 paused and turned to glare at 7, while rubbing the side of his face.

7 glared right back, and shook a finger at him. "I don't know what's going on, 9, but you better be back by nightfall. I don't care how much thinking you need to do, I will hunt you down and drag you home kicking and screaming."

9 laughed, loving the way that one word sounded: home. "Alright, I'll see you later."

He wandered for a while, until he found a nice spot on top of a car.

Their world was changing.

All of the recent rain they were getting caused mold and fungi to grow. There were even a few mushrooms. The twins explained through text extracts that these odd growths would help break down the decay and clean the planet. It wouldn't be long before the ground became rich with nutrients again, and more life would grow.

"Life must go on."

9's head clanked loudly against the car's hood as he lay down. This wasn't the first time he heard those words repeat in his head, haunting him.

"Life must go on."

He scrunched up his cloth face, trying to make sense of those phrases. They had to mean something…more.

"You shall protect the future."

Frustrated, 9 stood back up and screamed to the barren waste land the one question that he couldn't find an answer to: "HOW?! How am I supposed to do that?!"

The stitchpunk stood there, stock still, as if the landscape could give the answer to him. 9 sighed in defeat, and slumped back down, as lost as ever before.

"This has been going on for too long! It's been three weeks. Just tell me what's troubling you." 9 sighed and looked up from the book he was bent over.

He had turned to 3 and 4's extensive collection of books for the answer that he was becoming more desperate to find, but he refused to let the others help. It just felt like something he needed to figure out on his own.

"9…" the male doll looked away, pretending to be interested in the book. He was not going to cave in now. Nope, no way was he… "9…look at me…" 9 wiggled the seams of his mouth together, much like how humans used to bite their lips. She was using that tone; that concerned, sweet whisper that he couldn't resist. "9…please…"

Accepting defeat, 9 looked up. "You're really starting to make me worry 9. You don't need to go through this alone. We would help you if you would just let us." She sat down in front of him and ran a hand down the back of his head.

9 held back a whimper as his final defenses fell. That worked every time. She knew it, and always used it to her advantage. She knew…it suddenly hit him that 7 could have made him melt into a compliant puddle of goo long ago, but she didn't. She had given him the opportunity to work it out on his own, but that wasn't getting him anywhere. She was right; he needed help.

"There has to be more." When she just sat there, confused, he elaborated, "He…the Scientist, I mean…he told me that 'life must go on, thus I created you, 9. You shall protect the future', but I don't know what that means."

"9, that's what's been bothering you? You did save the future, and life is coming. We can already see the signs. These things just take time. "

"I saved the future from myself. That's not the same as protecting it. It can't be the same. If it was, then I wouldn't have a purpose anymore. And I don't think that's what he meant by life going on. There has to be more to it!" 9 tried to get up, but 7 grabbed his shoulder and dragged him down.

7 climbed on his back and pinned him down with her legs while she used her hands to rub his back. 9 moaned into the book, "I hate it when you do that."

He could hear the smirk in her voice as she said, "No, you love it. You just hate that I use it against you." As she kneaded his shoulders she could feel the metal supports and other mechanisms relax under her touch.

"You don't understand," came the next mumble.

She leaned forward and whispered, "I don't need to. I'll still help you to the best of my ability. Rest now, and tomorrow we'll ask the twins if they know anything."

7 ran her hand up and down the seam on the back of his head, until it finely lulled forward. Chuckling, she got up to retrieve a blanket for him.

Sometimes it was just too easy.

9 stood in front of the open book in a state of awe, and perhaps a bit of apprehension to touch it. It had, after all, belonged to his Creator. It felt strange, as if he was a child messing with his parent's things without permission. But it wasn't like he could ask.

Unlike the others, he never got the chance to meet the Scientist. This would be the only way he would ever get to know the man that made him.

He turned a few pages, not really trying to read the tiny scrawled handwriting because it took too much effort to decipher it. 9 shivered when he turned another page to find a picture of the Fabrication Machine looking back at him. He quickly continued flipping, not wanting to ever see that thing again.

There were newspaper clippings, war posters, letters, and photographs taped into the journal, on almost every other page. 9 continued flipping through it, his pace picking up as minutes went by. He was completely unsure of what he was looking for…

…Until one of the letters fell out. 9 halted, turned back a page, and picked the letter up to put it back in its proper place. But as he pressed the tape against the book, he read the piece of paper. Then he read it again, just for good measure.

9 looked over his shoulder where the other three were watching him and told them, "I- I think I found it."

3, 4 and 7 stepped closer to read it for themselves.

'Friends, it appears that our battle against these soulless beasts is proving too overwhelming for the forces of mankind. Yet while their gas bombs may wring the breath from our lungs, and their guns lay waste to our villages, these machines cannot take away our precious memories. Now is the time...save your memories for the future.' (1)

7 looked from the book, to 9, to the book again, the gears in her head literally turning as she tried to put the puzzle pieces together. "What does that mean?"

9 squinted at the writing at the opposite page, still having difficulty reading it.

3 grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the way; while 4's eyes blinked rapidly as she displayed the page 9 had failed at reading, and tried to clear it up. 7 and 9 squinted at it, still having a bit of difficulty understanding it.

"There are more talismans…h-he made more than one…" 9 backed up, his optics nearly fully dilated while he tried to comprehend what exactly that meant.

When 9 had paused in shock, 7 continued, "He gave them out, and told everyone that the devices would save their memories." 7 could imagine the kind old man handing the little metal devices to children and frightened mothers. She could imagine the words he spoke as he gave them to the young men about to face their death on the battle field. She could envision the hope and trust he created, even as they all crept closer to the end.

"They never knew. They never knew that it wasn't they're memories that they put into the talismans." 4's eyes flickered off and she slumped into the arms of her brother.

The library remained silent for a long time while the stitchpunks mulled over their thoughts.

It was another dead end.

9 was perched on top of the car that he had claimed as his thinking spot, a finger running over the talisman in his hand. Or at least they thought it was a talisman.

They had found it in the back pocket of a man that lay near the monastery. It had been a pain to locate it then roll the man over far enough to squeeze it out. The others had been reluctant at first to help 9, and he knew now why the others had never accidentally found one of the talismans. But even after all that work, 9 wasn't any closer to his answer then before.

It was shaped like a talisman, but it was a bit smaller than the original and didn't have a connection piece on the back. Of course it didn't. The Scientist didn't want to take the risk that the B.R.A.I.N might find them and use it, which also explained the seal.

The top was covered in a strange substance that 9 couldn't get off. Which was why he was now back at his thinking spot, pondering over it.

"Click." 9 looked up to see 3 and 4 staring at him curiously with their big flashing eyes.

" Hey, guys. Did you need something?" The twins clicked and flickered at him, then pointed to the sky. 9 looked up, surprised by the dark angry clouds that he didn't notice before. "Oh. Alright, I'm coming."

As they made their way back to their home, 3 and 4 skittered ahead of him, then they would run back and chase each other around 9. The more mature stitchpunk laughed at their antics, and at one point ended up giving the two a piggy back ride.

A drop splashed on 9's arm, and a little bit of it got on the new talisman. 9 tried to rub the water off, but the surface became slippery and the waxy substance stuck to his hand. Laughing, he rubbed it vigorously as more drops came down and landed on the talisman. The twins cataloged and clicked in excitement as they watched the substance dissolve.

He was one step closer.

9 now knew exactly what he needed to do.

The others had helped him clean two of the rooms out, one to be a storage room, and the other would be his work room. 9 set up a little work bench and a storage system, then went off to collect little odds and ends, determined to fill the storage room to the brim.

He gathered ribbons and buttons, shoelaces, yarn, string and needles, pony tails, and bobby pins. He took pieces off of toys, and dismantled different things for their parts, even the beasts. In his crazed obsession, he even went as far as to take apart the B.R.A.I.N.

He took anything and everything that could be useful and put it in the storage room. 3 and 4 were more than happy to help sort the stuff out and it gave them a chance to do more cataloging. But above all, 9 collected the talismans and made a special place for them in the storage room.

Cloth was the hardest to find. Well, technically it could be found, it was practically everywhere, really, but 7 wouldn't let him take it. She said it was disrespectful to take the clothes away from the dead, but 9 was desperate.

Then he thought that it would be fine if he explained why he needed it. 7 wouldn't have anything to do with it, but she didn't stop him. 9 hesitated the first time he approached one of the bodies, remembering what 2 had once told him. "Some things in this world are best left where they lay."

But he needed that cloth. He talked to the woman as he worked on cutting off a piece of her shirt, telling her that she was helping him prepare the future. 9 made sure to only take one piece from each person. Soon he had a nice collection of denim, leather, felt, silk and patterned cotton shirt bits.

Sometimes 9 would get lucky and find a stuffed toy and strip it of its fur. Other times he would find a bed sheet, towel or sock that could be used. He got extremely lucky one day when 7 found a whole chest filled with clothes. They had to cut them all into smaller pieces and take just a few at time. It took them a few days to empty the whole chest.

This led to the invention of the first new world vehicle. Well, technically, it was just a rusty old wagon that 9 had rigged up. One of the wheels had been missing and the replacement didn't fit quite right which made it wobble. The steering could be difficult at times too, but it was a start and it made collecting things easier. And because of the increase of items they were gathering, more rooms had to be cleaned out for storage.

Then came the day when they went to the sacred first room. 7 didn't want to do it, but she knew that there would be things there that 9 would consider invaluable.

They gathered up tools, blueprints and little knick-knacks, but as 7, 3 and 4 were about to prepare to leave, 9 approached the Scientist, his cutting tool in hand.

The body was rotting and falling apart, and 9 supposed that it would have smelt horrible if he in fact, could smell. 9 wondered if the Scientist purposefully designed them to be that way, knowing that the world he left them to would be decaying and crumbling.

He didn't know what to say at first. He didn't really need to explain to the Scientist, because he had probably planned for it to be this way in the first place. But after all of the collecting he had done, it became a habit to talk while he worked. So he had to think of something to say.

"I'm trying." 9 positioned his tool at the edge of the lab coat, but didn't start cutting. Instead, he looked back up at the Scientist's face. "Sometimes it's hard to understand you, but I'm giving it my best. There's so much I want to tell you, ask you…I wish…" 9 choked on his words, and stopped talking as he started working on the piece of cloth.

After a few minutes, he started up again, "I'm not going to make any more mistakes. The others…died because of m-me. I'm not going to let that happen again. I promise. I'm not perfect; you never meant for us to be perfect, did you? But I'll try my best to do this the right way."

9 stepped back with the piece of cloth in his hand, as he got one last look at the man that brought him to life. "I'm not going to let your death--the death of your whole species--be in vain. I will protect the future. I will. Good bye…Creator."

9 turned and walked away, clutching the piece of lab coat to his chest.

9 stood back, glowing with pride as he looked his creation over again for any faults.

They had to be perfect. Each one had to be unique and special, sewn and welded with love and care. He was taking his time, as much time as was needed. There was no war hanging over their heads now so he had all the time he needed to perfect them. And soon, once he had all nine of them, he would fill them with life.

They had found grass yesterday. It was just a little clump, but it wouldn't be long now until it once again covered the earth like a blanket. 9 hoped that by the time his creations were ready, that there would be no more signs of the war. He wanted them to wake up to a bright and green world; a world of peace.

9 smiled and ran a hand over the head of his first creation, A1. He wondered if this was how fathers felt when their child came into the world, kicking and screaming. He wondered if…this was how the Scientist felt when he was created.

9 gave the lifeless doll one last pat and whispered to it, "Life must go on."

ANNOTATIONS: (1) This also isn't mine. It's an excerpt from the Scientist's Journal and can be found at 9experiment dot com and on the 9 Scientist's FaceBook page.

Author's note: I was planning to just put this up for adoption, but it grew attached to me. I also wanted to just focus on the original stitchpunks, but a particular side character begged me to make him the focus of this story. So from this point on it's going to be OC orientated. You will meet him in the next chapter, 20 years or so into the future.

For the naming: I remember seeing a video where Shane Acker mentioned that he only made 9 dolls because on a scale from 1 to 10, 9 is the closest you could ever get to making a perfect human replica. So it didn't seem right to me to make a 10th doll. But it also didn't strike me as right to pick something that isn't a number. Thus I came up with this, where the letter represents the generation, and each generation is made up of 9 dolls.