Stylus awoke from sleep mode one afternoon. The sun was near setting, the energy readings were at 100%. It was time to move.

His mechanized wings folded up and concealed themselves on his back. They were useless as wings- but they held great solar collectors. Stylus uses them to recharge whenever he has the time to do so.

His feet were locked together around the branch of a strong oak tree; Stylus was basically hanging upside-down. Stylus unlocked the feet and dropped head-first toward the ground. He then curled his body and rolled upon landing to prevent joint damage.

He checked his mission timer. He'd left Robotropolis about five weeks ago. Mission Clock read 17:35:22:30. Stylus stood up, brushed dead leaves off of his trousers, and picked his hat off of a ground-level plant he had used as a makeshift coat hanger. Stylus slipped the holes in his hat through the large, plated ears of his helmet, then continued moving.

He recalled asking the Doctor why he needed the hat and trousers and such. Doc replied "It makes you look more casual, laid-back. People won't react so negatively."

"He's still a robot," the Nephew pointed out.

Ignoring his nephew, the Doctor said "You're a specifically-designed robot, along with seventy-three others. You know what you're built to do, correct?"

At this point, there was no corruption in the memory. Stylus remembered nodding.

"And you know that your purpose requires you to never... ever... be taken down. You are a Stylus. Make me proud."

He remembered nodding again. The flashback ended when Stylus remembered he had been running for a few hours. It was now 1846 hours. The sun had started to set.

Before Stylus could take note of how fast time flew, he spotted a thermal anomaly in a concentrated area. Once he got a clear visual, it turned out to be a village with a bonfire in the middle. It was a surprisingly large community, what with the well-built cabins and barns. In the distance, Stylus spotted farmland. It appeared they had finished harvesting the crops. He assumed the bonfire party was a celebration of completing the harvest.

Stylus approached the village. He recalled the target in question. The only name given was "RELIC," Intelligence and the Doctor believed that RELIC had been in charge of supply routes to the Freedom Fighters across the world. At least, all the captured supply runners said they were running under orders by an entity called RELIC.

An elusive target, RELIC. Stylus was sent well beyond the range of communication to try to find RELIC using any means necessary.

Stylus was several paces away from the proverbial border of the party when a voice shouted from above. Stylus looked up to spot a watchtower set up among the cabins.

"Who goes there?" Asked the voice. It was difficult to tell who or what was in the tower, but Stylus could easily assume that a guard stationed at this time would be armed.

"An addition to the party, that's who goes there," came another voice. This one was a female. Stylus glanced to the source of the second voice to see a bat. The most noticeable feature of the friendly bat was the left ear, clipped and charred. Possibly from an accident of some sort.

"Howdy. Welcome to Chester."

Stylus paused. This wasn't part of any engagement strategy. Did this casual attire fool the locals this easily?

"Stella, what are you doing?" called the voice in the tower.

"We welcome everyone, Leo."

"But he's a robot! Metal Detectors confirm!" Leo shouted back.

The party surprisingly didn't stop. Stella shook her head, then turned to Stylus.

"You'll have to excuse Leo. Though considering all robots have directives, what's yours?" She asked.

"Classified," Stylus said, remembering to add "Unfortunately." to add an air of character to the statement.

"Well, you are looking for something, aren't you?" Stella asked.

Stylus slowly nodded, but didn't say anything. Stella raised a brow, expecting Stylus to continue. Stylus wasn't sure how to word it properly. He didn't want to make enemies right off the bat. That would increase his chances of never returning to Robotropolis.

"Well maybe I can help?"

"I'm looking for someone called RELIC. Supply runners aiding Freedom Fighters have all revealed to be working under this RELIC person."

Stella made a relatively goofy "Let me think" expression while crossing her arms. She then shrugged.

"Well, do you know anyone who does?"

Stella again shrugged. Stylus slowly nodded.

"Sorry we couldn't be of help."

Stylus continued nodded, then stopped. Wait, why were they so easy-going about helping robots?

"Wait, why are you being friendly to me?"

"Just the way most of us were raised," Stella replied. "Leo's one of those guys who's been to Robotropolis. It kind of changed him."

"I dunno, I rather like Robotropolis. Streets could've used better cleaning- or cleaning in general."

Stella smiled, then beckoned Stylus to follow. With no immediate way to find out who or where RELIC was, the robot decided to follow.

They walked past the party and into a cabin equipped with a garage door. It looked like a typical makeshift workshop. Oddly enough, there was no custom vehicle where one would expect. Instead, there was a heavily-damaged robot laying upon a table. A computer hummed next to the table.

"We found this one a few months ago," Stella said as Stylus approached the table to get a better look.

This one was a roboticized squirrel. He was similarly-geared, and was about Stylus' size- even up to the casual attire, or rather, idea of casual attire. A pistol and sniper rifle lay on another table- just out of the robot's reach, in the event that it would reactivate.

"He's gone?" Stylus asked.

Stella shook her head. "We haven't found a way to reactivate him, or at least salvage his memory core."

"You can't," Stylus said, "At least, I haven't heard of anyone or anything who can yet."