"Hello…"
"What? Where are you!? Show yourself, I am prepared, ya know!"
"Promise me something…"
"Wh-Oh! You're one of those squeaky-voiced turrets! What do you want me to promise?"
"Something will happen, something only you can handle…You are chosen by me…"
"Me? But, I'm defective. I can't do crap! Plus, what is this fo-"
"You have to repeat these exact words. You will know when to say them…"
And so, the mystery turret said the words that DT would repeat in the future…whenever that would be, anyways. They were completely out of his type of speech, so serious and incredibly violent. DT's type of speech was filled with sarcasm with a touch of comedy. Plus, he had never dared to say the words "death", "incinerator", or even saying "her"…But, not once did he interrupt this stranger, even though he kind of wanted to. Real badly.
"…Remember these words, there will be a certain man you need to get in touch with to start your journey. Now, go! The incinerator is up ahead, and you will be sent into it unless you jump away at the correct time. When you feel a burning heat behind you, jump backwards and run!"
DT crossed where his heart would be if he had one with his cold, metallic claw, and was sent away from…whoever that was he was talking to. He heard voices up ahead, a man who seemed to only know the words "template" and "response" and a few squeaky-voices, sort of like the one he encountered not long ago, but more energetic by the tiniest bit. He also heard a few voices that sounded like him, which made him feel less special. This feeling of being "un-special" didn't seem as bad as you'd think, because he was very much used to this. He knew he was defective, but he still wanted to live…there had to be more out there, right?
It was finally his turn to go. He heard the others go, and it seemed the squeaky turrets got to pass. Yes, he still remembered what the mystery turret said, but just in case…
"Template?" the man said.
The apparent template responded, "Hello?"
"Response"
DT hesitated for a split second and replied in a high-pitched voice, "Hello. Hello! Hell-" His sight flickered for a moment, fizzling like a broken computer monitor and for the few seconds it did, he saw a screen that flashed "DEFECTIVE". He had failed the test…
"FINE! LOOK OUT EVERYBODY. HERE COMES DT." And he back-flipped off the platform he was standing on.
He hit the floor (surprisingly on his claws and not his head), and heard a faint British voice, "Whoa…you'd think the crap turrets would be so defective they wouldn't figure out they failed until they were thrown away! Ha ha…"
Ouch. Right in the would-be heart.
Well, now he had to…run. Yeah, that seemed about right, so he leaped away as fast as he could on his skinny, slightly broken legs to wherever this crazy adventure would take him next. He stopped all of a sudden, because he heard something crack beneath him. DT, of course, was blind so he couldn't tell what was making that noise or if it would give out and kill him. He heard more cracking noises, and did the one thing he's been doing for the past 2 minutes. He ran like the frickin' wind…WHICH WAS A HORRIBLE IDEA, DT HOW COULD YOU BE SUCH A—
[Please Stand By…]
He ran like the frickin' wind. This was a terrible mistake, because whatever was supporting him before finally gave out beneath him.
"NO! I. CAN'T. NO!" DT screamed, and then some gibberish that nobody could understand. He fell for what seemed like forever…but there was a problem. There was no sound of wind whipping past him, maybe he had gone deaf? Wait…he wasn't falling anymore. Just a cool breeze, and then black.