WX-78 looked up to the sky as the colors of day slipped into the west along with the sun. Its optical sensors threatened to fall out of focus as it bled out into the soil bordering the golden grassy fields. On its back, it shifted its head to squint at the beefalo facing away from it. It was as if the lumbering beast had forgotten it already, and the robot gazed at the glinting blood-stained horn on the left side of the beefalo's head. Straining to see over its own torso now, it weakly moved its hand over the gaping wound across its "stomach". The automaton let out a guttural groan, laced with gurgling. Silently, it cursed all organic life. Of course it would be the end of the robot's, it was all so typical. It shifted to scan over the wound more easily, earning itself a mechanical wince that echoed awkwardly through the dented shell of metal that was supposedly its chest. Its hand twitched and slipped down to its side where it now lay paralyzed. As the blood ran out, it felt itself become alert, but for only an instant, which meant the "emergency" supply was now being drained in place of the red liquids.
A thick and constant flow of oil began to taint the ground in hopes of clotting the wound and saving the robot's life, but the effort was pathetic and in vain as it pooled around the dying husk of bronze. WX-78 was already in bad shape before this incident, it's what caused the fragile mind to snap and violently demand food from the cruel world around it by attacking the large woolen creature that now slowly made its way back to its herd, unscathed. The automaton, even on the verge of death, still saw shadows dance in the corner of its vision. At least the headaches were gone now, it only felt tired. The sun sank into the horizon and drained the remaining colors away. WX-78 had had experiences with the monster in the dark before, when the neighboring pigman had decided the berries it had dropped that "mysteriously" rolled out of the light of the fire were more important than its safety. It's WX-78's turn, now.
Its optical sensors shut down for a few moments, catching and holding the sight of the sunset before all that was left were the few seconds of transitioning to night and complete darkness. But night never came.
After a minute or two the robot angrily opened its "eyes" to see a blue glow rest upon the earth all around it, that seemed to stretch for miles. It was as if a full moon had come. But time had stopped. The wind did not carry, and there was no rush of cold that signified the presence of night. It couldn't have been a full moon, it just didn't feel right. But there was no feeling now, only impatience. This felt familiar as a sight, and the automaton was right. Time had stopped. Just before darkness had fallen over the world like a blanket, the blue flash of night's arrival had been caught for WX-78 to bask in. The robot could still see that it was bleeding, though. It stared, confused and annoyed, at the oil coating its sides. The shadows still danced, and their presence intensified with the automaton's anger, becoming more noticeable. The oil began to shift and sway as WX-78's vision deteriorated, and the robot's head gave out under its own weight, its optical sensors now scanning the sky against their will. The black liquid climbed through the air to meet its gaze, to its surprise, and took the shape of an hourglass figure. In an instant, through the struggle of keeping its sight focused, WX-78 was met with the warm smile of a human being. The smile did not signify any hint of insanity or blood lust, it was almost comforting. It only lasted for a moment before it spoke.
"You're not looking too good, hon. I'm sorry Max can't be here to see ya, he's a little busy," the tall woman leaned over the automaton's still body. "but I can do his job just fine. You see-," she cupped the oil on the ground into her gloved hands. "You're not the only one trapped here; but the others aren't doing too well. We couldn't get back to them in time." She gave WX another smile as she separated her hands, letting the oil splatter onto its chest. "They'll be fine, but it always takes some time to... put them back together. S-so they can try again!" She bit her lip anxiously at the robot's struggling glare. "The thing is," she began, stepping to the side. "I've been watching everyone from the dark. I'm supposed to be helping you all find Maxwell, but you're all making it real hard for me. I also can't help much if you wander into the dark, I have another job, y'know? They're watching us too." She puts a hand on her hip, the oil making no marks whatsoever as she looks down at her nails. "I'm saying more than I need to, but I need to be quick and clear about this. I'm going to let you live, but hear me when I say that you-," she kneels down to face the robot directly, "are not going to be careless anymore. I don't care how hard you think you're trying, it's not good enough for us. You made a deal with Max and you're gonna pay your end of the deal whether you want to or not. These shenanigans have gone on for far too long. You're not gonna make a habit of dying like everyone else. I'll make sure of that." Her eyes were filled now with an anger and impatience that outweighed WX-78's by the tons. In the blink of an eye, her gaze was once again warm and harmless. "So," she clasped her hands together, standing away from WX-78. "it's time to rest, dear. You have a long day ahead of you." Her voice became a whisper as the robot tapped out.
Hello! Drop a review (with some thought put into it) and direct any questions towards my inbox. That means PM me your questions and concerns. I have tried writing a story for Don't Starve before, but it felt too fast-paced, so I took it all down. This story will feature WX-78 and Charlie (an odd pair) on a quest to find Maxwell himself. If you know me for my older stories, then you know I'm (kind of) comedic. This will be classified as humor/adventure. Now I know the Don't Starve stories are a bit slow updating, but just because this story's a fresh one, it doesn't make me a damn youtuber. I literally can't upload a chapter every day. Maybe for awhile it'll seem like it, but we all get bored of our projects when support begins to deteriorate. And it does when the game you're writing stories about was released years ago. Lucky to get any.