The city.
A reckoning no longer a force to be reckoned with aside from the rot and waste, from the desperate and the insane, to the needy and the confused. The skyscrapers. All either crumbling to dust as the seconds, days, years roll on. Or containing the remaining inhabitants that dare chance a collapse upon their heads.
A risk many were willing to take, seeing as shelter and even the slightest feeling of security was no longer a common occurrence anymore. Hardly even choice.
The roads, once nicely paved and commonly used by the automotive things. Vehicles, cars and such of the like. Were now piles of rust and rotted wires and broken apart gravel and stone. A hazardous place to walk let alone drive, not that anyone had done that in decades.
The street lights and power poles that lined the sidewalks of once upon a time ago now snapped and fallen, crashed into the side of some buildings, over the expanse of the old roads, some crushing piles of spoiled metal and plastic that used to be motored whatnots. Whichever way they fell so long ago, no one ever bothered to move them.
"Look at this, Brother!"
The young man obeyed, glancing to the pile of decaying alloy.
"What was it, Brother?"
He didn't stop walking as he looked, "Used to be a moped, Pyro. Come on, keep walking. Nothing to use there and it's getting dark."
The young one, Pyro, obeyed without question this time, trotting quickly to catch up to the older one's longer stride and pace. "Never nothin' to use, Brother. Nothing ever. We should pack up and go somewhere else."
"I know. Now hush."
They were closing in on a more suburb part of the tragic city, where the skyscrapers gave way to more rundown motels that used to be five star casino resorts back in the day. There were more alleys and shadows here than what made the young man comfortable.
But he didn't trust the bigger of all the ruins and quite frankly, every place was evenly dangerous.
The sun was partly set now, the sky going into the few precious moment of the twilight before darkness, that blaze of colors and hues that somehow managed to make all these desolate sights spark with a little something he just couldn't put a word to in his mind.
Fires were becoming apparent as the nighttime air continued to progress across the empty and dead streets. Campfires inside some of the places. People who were either dumber than the norm, desperate not to freeze in their sicknesses, or capable and confident that they and their abilities can hold their own against the popular threats of this daily life.
The two snuck by them wordlessly, watching their feet as not to disturb the silence with a single sound.
The older, young man was lithely muscles and easy on the eyes. Medium chestnut hair fell in short shaggy locks about his head, occasionally straying into his handsome dark eyes. Tan skin complimented his features easily with the occasional faded scar and nearly vanished bruise from past fights recent and far.
He wore a dusty warn black leather jacket over a simple long-sleeved red undershirt and torn-up dirty blue jeans. The collar of the leather framed up around his neck reaching his chin's height and the pockets were deeper than they appeared.
Pyro was a youthful mirror image with bigger, rounder eyes and lacking the stress lines. Not quite so tan and not near so many scars and marks to look at in the mirror. He was skinny and about as muscled as a child his age, seven, could be.
"Ascelin?"
The older one stopped walking at that. It was rare that Pyro used his actual name to catch his attention. "Hm?"
"Look," Pyro whispered, gesturing to the darkness of the alley they were standing nearest, at the end of.
Two red, glowing, round, pupil-less eyes seemed to stare emptily, creepily out at them from the darkness.
Ascelin put a hand on Pyro's small shoulder, coaxing him to move along a little quicker than what they'd been pacing before. Mumbling, "Come on…"
He scanned the buildings around them upon the distance they covered, night pitch was in full swing now and it was quite possibly bringing death on the wake as it could every and any time. Night was often when the more psychotic and hopeful struck.
He finally found what he hoped for, close to at the best. An old abandoned warehouse without fires alighting the inside.
Casually, he lifted Pyro up with one arm and the child automatically clung to his back in a way that faltered his movements the least as he stalked towards the large gaping hole in the grubby factory's wall.
Peering into the blackness, he had to give his eyes a moment to adjust before carefully placing his feet on the most stable looking rocks to begin his descent inside the unknown but hopefully good choice place for the night.
There was a click.
A small, insignificant sound before light flooded the floor at his feet like a flashlight.
Ascelin glanced to Pyro, the boy's head resting on his shoulder, and into those two, big, round, open yellow eyes that didn't need to blink and shushed him quietly. The sound making Pyro's eyes dim accordingly.
"Not now," Ascelin murmured. "I can do this."
He stayed aware of the boy however, it was rather reflexive whenever he was on his back. The hologram that Pyro fancied to look human was gone, turned off. Leaving his true self open for eyes to see.
A robot boy, a small bionic child. Thoroughly accustomed with bolts and gears, springs, metal for skin and lights for eyes. They were the remaining sign of electricity and power in the world, the children, that was. All the children.
It happened eons ago. Too far back than what most cared to remember. Something had happened to all the kids whence they became a certain age.
Something took them. And something returned them as this. Brothers, sisters, children, all at the age of four stolen out of thin air. As if by magic. And returned the next day as little complicated robots with the same personalities as they had before they left. Everyone had one. And if someone didn't have a younger to take, than they were left with a random of which they never met or expected.
Such was the case with Ascelin. He woke up one day inside an old barn in the middle of nowhere. It had been a suitable place to crash for a night or two, the soiled hay had offered more cushioning than most got anymore. But then there he was, a little too-human looking machine limp with dark eyes.
Until its master grew awake, then he had jumped to life and started asking a million questions and saying statements all at once. Like what was his name going to be and where they were gonna go next. That he was hungry and the hay smelled like old mold and now Ascelin had smelled that way too.
It was sad, really. Because though the little ones never remembered what happened to them to make them this way. And often upon being returned, their master, their possible big sibling or parent no longer believed they were them, that they were no longer alive. And distraught by the loss, treated the Familiars like garbage and objects.
But Ascelin was smarter than most if nothing else. He had looked into Pyro, knew what all the chips and panels and plugs meant, and found the most vital part of every ro-boy and girl. A small chip in their core, just under where their hearts would be, was virtually impossible to crack or break into with even the strongest of tools.
It contained the child's soul. That vital piece not only ran the body and made the works; it proved that the kid was still his or herself.
Ascelin didn't remember well the day he woke up human again. There was no set age for that. Some of the Familiars either became normal children again upon their master's death or didn't and stayed shutdown forever. Ascelin didn't even remember his master's name. But whenever he thought about it, he remembered that if the Familiars weren't programmed to listen to and love their leader no matter what, he'd of killed his own himself.
It had either once been his own brother or father; he couldn't recall.
But he didn't make the same mistakes. He kept Pyro as happy as he could and treated him as any child should be treated if not a little over-protective. But that was the only way to be when your lives depended on one another.
If Ascelin died, Pyro would either rot and rust forever or become human again with no specific memory of him. If Pyro died, Ascelin would immediately follow.
Magic definitely had to be involved.
But there was also something about the metal work with the kids. They grew. Like normal children would. And it didn't make sense; Ascelin couldn't crack the code of how and why.
But either way, upon glancing behind some old splintering crates and rubble for possible threats to himself or Pyro, satisfied with the results, he lowered the ro-boy to the floor.
"I'm going to find some things to make a fire. It's too cold tonight."
Pyro clicked on his hologram and feigned shivering, nodding through chattering teeth before shutting it back off and appearing emotionless as they did without the illusion up.
"You know what to do if you hear anything that's not me," Ascelin whispered before stepping away into the shadows.
He had a nice one going in no time. Small enough to attract as little attention as possible, large enough to do its job and keep them warm. And of course Pyro had helped since it was where he'd obtained his name.
Some of the Familiars were lucky enough to come with a certain perk that most didn't. Pyro could breathe fire. Others could shock you with contact or have a burst of super strength or speed. There were upgrades everywhere; you just had to watch out for the trapped ones with viruses that would kill the little ones.
He'd even seen one, one time, go invisible. At least that's what it had seemed. In reality, the ro-girl had just had an extra hologram that was dark mottled black and gray that allowed her to blend in well with the darkness of the alley she'd been hiding in while her master was away.
Ascelin had pretended to fall for the heist and kept moving quickly with Pyro in tow. He had no desire to steal the tech of the others like most people did though he could see their reasonings.
More tech for your own bot meant more safety and odds that they wouldn't die. And an upgrade stolen from one you kill guarantees that the upgrade didn't kill the small one, so it isn't bugged with anything potentially deadly for your own.
Pyro's eyes were bright again, illuminating the whole area as he looked around. Ascelin flinched when the child looked to him, it was the equivalent of shining a construction power-level flashlight in someone's face.
He shushed the kid again to dim it down easily, "Shut 'em off, Pyro. The fire light makes me nervous enough."
"Sorry."
"Just put up your hologram. It's okay," Ascelin closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. Pyro's uncontrolled lights in his eyes had gotten them in trouble time and time again before. A weak wire he assumed. But he hadn't the time to look into it lately.
Pyro crawled through the flames and coals easily, uncaring. Waiting a moment to let his metal re-cool before cuddling up beside him. "How long we sleeping for tonight, Brother?"
"I'm not sure yet. Shut down," Ascelin answered, reflexively inching and resting an arm under the small robot's shoulders.
"But I'm not tired."
"Shut down."
"Fine," Pyro grumbled before a small zap sounded from within him and his eyes went dark, body limp.
Ascelin didn't sleep. He twitched at any sound too loud, any movement that his mind played tricks with on him. Every shadow that the firelight caused. Every haunting stone and out of place shape in the darkness had him on edge.
Such was the way everyone felt at night – those who had the capability to feel anymore that was. This evening would do nothing but add to the discoloration of the rings under his eyes. Such was all it was.
But he was merely human. So despite himself, sleep eventually took him under its unknowing black depths of unconsciousness where anything could happen in both his dreams, and his or Pyro's defenseless figures…
