Thomas could still feel a headache as he finally came to, waking atop a standard mattress inside what appeared to be an old jail cell. It wasn't long before he felt sore all over his body, as he was still hurting from all the damage those robots did to him. That final electric shock that got him captured probably didn't help, either.
Barely able to keep his eyes open, Thomas tried to focus what little SP he had into his heal spell. It was rather tricky, however, for him to cast the spell while he was laying supine on the mattress, struggling to lift his arms. Pushing through his pain, Thomas slowly put one of his arms along his chest, before trying to lift up just to get some magic going.
His magic skills were still developing. Other than a decent water spell, he needed to work on training before he could heal more than a few bruises. A lot more training would be needed to get a strong healing spell, or some divine power. He was neither a CPU, nor a professional adventurer or medical practitioner in Gamindustri. Thomas could only manage a bit of healing, tickling along his body as his spell was deemed 'unsafe' for use on others. Thomas couldn't even react much to the tickling sensations. The overall soreness was more noticeable.
Eventually, he burned enough SP to heal some of his bruises, slowly but painfully lifting his upper body from the mattress and properly sitting up. Slumping forward, Thomas took some deep breaths to make sure that, indeed, he was still alive. It would take a lot longer for him to heal naturally, but he was up. Somehow.
He had plenty of time to heal, given where he was. Getting a look around him, he slowly recognized this as a jail cell, with only a few facilities to barely live through the day. He shook his head, headache slowly going away, and he looked out towards the lone cell door leading out.
"Looks like I'm in Leanbox, alright," Thomas grumbled to himself. He must have recognized this place from that TV documentary about Leanbox's old jail being reused from its predecessors. If I recall, long ago, before Leanbox was a nation and CPUs were a thing, humanity had its share of petty kingdoms that ran things and vied for more power. There were a few kingdoms that stood out, though, and none grew bigger than that of the mad king Yvoire. A paranoid man, the king would poison or imprison those he suspected of treason. To make sure there was enough space for a growing prison population, the king enabled the construction of a large medieval prison. After the king was deposed by practically everyone, the prison would be abandoned until the nation of Leanbox came into being. While it never filled up as much as it did under the mad king, it was nonetheless renovated for more modern times, and remained a curiosity for old history buffs.
Thomas narrowed his eyes, almost in reaction to my silly exposition, slowly jutting a thumb out into the hallway. Indeed, perhaps the other signs that Thomas could tell he was in Leanbox were the small Leanbox logos plastered along the hallway, and a few of the robots patrolling, passing by the cell.
The man's eyes widened quickly as he checked through his inventory. All the items and credits that he had in his inventory were cleaned out. Everything in there was gone, as well as his weapon and the tome that he carried with him. A terrible development for Thomas, who could not be sure if the enemy knew of the tome's value or importance.
Either way, he was left with nothing but the clothes on his back, quietly watching one of the patrolling robots go by his cell. The robot stopped, turning its head to look at the new prisoner.
Thomas frowned, trying to hold back his emotions for now, saying in a deadpan manner to the robot, "Hey. Uh, take me to your leader?"
The robot simply tilted its head briefly, before turning back to its patrol route, ignoring the question. Even if it could answer the silly question, it would only be in beeps and boops.
"Right, these are not aliens. Idiot," Thomas said to himself dryly. The robots weren't likely going to engage in conversation, anyway.
After taking another deep breath, Thomas slowly got up from the mattress, getting a better look around the cell he was put in. He was fairly certain he was in Leanbox's prison by now. He even stopped short of the of bars, slowly moving his hand forward until it met with a mildly-irritating force field. Great, another barrier. These robots seem to love that stuff.
"Of course they keep this security in place," Thomas muttered. Thankfully, the barrier wasn't electrocuting him, just keeping his hand back. He was aware that the security systems were beefed up here prior to the firewall, in case someone thought their super-strength was enough to break through the old medieval bars.
He could make out a long hallway from his position, unable to see any other cell beyond. At least, any that weren't empty. He couldn't even hear anyone else around. He concluded that he was placed in an isolated section, away from any other captives.
He was alone.
Thomas sighed, moving to one side of the cell, his hand continuing along the force field before meeting the wall. He then tried prodding around the corner, hoping to find something to help him out of this. Maybe a hidden panel or a place to break through or dig.
Finding nothing of the sort, he continued probing around the cell for the better part of what seemed like hours. He was taking his time to recover his strength, HP, and SP, but it also gave him time to think. Despite all that happened, he wanted to do anything to get out of this. His concern over what happened to his inventory, the tome, and everything else worried him greatly.
That worry stayed at the back of his mind. He couldn't find anything out of the ordinary during his search. The robots didn't even seem to care that he was doing this, or at the least react. It didn't help that Thomas had very little insight into breaking out of a jail cell. His limited computer knowledge wasn't going to break through a modern force field, and even if he could get through that, the bars looked pretty sturdy.
He sat down on the floor, along on one of the walls, sighing in frustration. He wasn't getting anywhere. Slumping his shoulders, Thomas' mind was going all over what happened, becoming more depressed as time went.
Later, as Thomas sat there on his own, one of the robots finally stopped by his cell, holding a tray of... something? It placed the tray on the ground, then used its foot to push between the bars, and presumably through the force field, into Thomas' cell. Thomas blinked over at the tray, as the robot swiftly turned back to its patrol, ignoring Thomas' confused look.
Thomas inched closer to the tray, carefully opening the lid cover. Seeing what was inside, Thomas' expression worsened. He had heard from those who were imprisoned in Lastation that the robots gave them 'food', but now he got to see their wonderful cuisine. On the plus side, there was an ordinary mug of plain drinking water next to whatever passed as this meal.
It looked like a frozen grey blob that could be mistaken for hardened gruel. Actually, that's unfair to gruel. At least gruel looked like it could be edible, and had some nutritional value. This looked even less than that at first glance. Your guess as to how this 'meal' was concocted would be as good as mine, or Thomas' for that manner.
Thomas took his eyes away from the culinary horror to see the one utensil given. Grasping this plastic spoon, he stared at it for a moment before looking at the nearby floor, hoping to find a soft spot. Unfortunately, after a few taps here and there, Thomas frowned, as the spoon could not put even a dent. So much for a slow dig out. It also didn't help that he dared use the spoon to try to dig into the 'meal' and being met with a similar struggle.
"You're kidding?" Thomas dryly said as he tapped his food a few more times. Growing frustrated, he rapidly continued tapping on the blob trying to wear it down. Eventually, Thomas cracked the thing in half, though, unfortunately, the middle did not look any more appetizing.
Thomas gritted his teeth, finally able to break down the blob into smaller pieces, apprehensive about his first bite of this product. He wasn't even sure if he or his stomach could handle the odorless substance.
"Come on, Thomas, you're tasted a lot of terrible food," he said to push himself, "You can do this." His hand fidgeted, barely able to contain the small portion on the flimsy spoon. Bracing himself, he finally took the bite, tasting the sour, gravel-like substance and being barely able to chew on it, let alone try to digest it.
Yep. It was awful. I'm sure Thomas would long for the taste of even a Nep Bull right about now.
Despite the horrid taste, Thomas would eat a bit more of the meal, before stopping about a quarter in, unable to stomach any more. He pushed the tray aside, desperately grabbing the mug and trying to wash the wretched taste from his mouth. He rinsed his mouth with some of the water before spitting.
No longer wanting to have any more, Thomas used his foot to push away the tray, going back into his thoughts, while slowly sipping at the mug of water.
A long, indeterminate amount of time passed, yet it was hard to tell if anything moved. The tray was still where Thomas nudged it, with the food left untouched. Only Thomas looked like he moved a bit. Thomas dropped the mug beside him a long while ago, but was still lost in his own thoughts.
Growing tired, Thomas pondered returning back to the mattress to sleep. What else could he do? He still looked depressed from what transpired, and the meal certainly didn't raise any hopes.
Bending his knees close, Thomas stopped a moment rub his eyes with both hands. Finishing that, he placed his hands down on his knees, ready to push himself up, before thinking once more. His eyes focused on his hands while they settled between the knees, and the thought came up.
"Of all things," Thomas muttered, "Prayer? Who would I be able to pray to? And for what, anyway? Would it be of any use?"
Thomas clasped his hands together, unsure of what or even why he would pray. Would his prayer reach the goddesses beyond the firewall? Would even Lady Green Heart hear him, when he doesn't even know for sure where she was? What would he even say, compared to everyone else seeking help?
Sighing once more, Thomas shook his head. His faith relied on such hope for so long, and even with all his questions and doubts, he had to try. He held his hands together, and closed his eyes, taking a few calming breaths. He moved his legs to get in a better position, and began his prayer. His plea.
"I don't know who'll be able to hear this, if at all," Thomas said quietly, "But, whoever's out there, please hear me. I... I don't know what to do. I'm trapped like so many here and... I'm afraid." He winced, "I'm afraid of what'll happen to everyone now if... I need something. Anything. I... all I need, all we need... I need a miracle. I don't know what, but something to turn this around. Please. I..."
He cut his prayer short as he pulled his hands apart, stopping, "I need to sleep." He sniffed a bit, reaching up with one hand to again rub his eyes, "Maybe I can think of something later. Right now, get some rest. I hope." After that dream he had, he was hesitant to get back to sleep. Regardless, he slowly moved his way to the mattress, and went to lay on his side.
It was a long hour for Thomas. He had difficulty getting to sleep, and each minute he was on that mattress was excruciating. It was such that he even felt the mattress being rather uncomfortable, tossing from one side of the mattress to the other.
Just as Thomas heaved one last sigh before finally drifting asleep, he heard a noise from a far-off distance. It was faint, but it was enough for him to reopen his eyes and slowly sit up. He waited a moment, while turning his head to the bars. There did not appear to be any change immediately. Perhaps it was little more than something outside the prison.
Thomas then heard another noise, which a little clearer and more recognizable. It sounded pretty far away, but it was undeniable. More explosions could be heard, growing in magnitude, to the point where he could feel a small tremor from where he was.
Soon after, the siren he heard long ago from Lastation blared across the prison's speakers. Thomas gradually stood up and saw the patrolling robots stop, turning immediately and leaving down the hallway, the area now abandoned.
Thomas was perplexed by this action, though given the heavy gunfire that could be heard in the distance, the robots were likely sending all their nearby forces in for reinforcements. Still, was it wise to empty this hallway?
Thomas frowned, "Why not?" He answered me, though, in fairness, he was talking to himself, "I'm the only one around here, and I'm not likely to do anything." He looked downcast, before noticing an odd flicker of the lighting in the hallway.
The flickering continued, along with the noise of gunfire and explosions in the distance, before the lights all turned off as power was shut down. Thomas blinked, "What in Gamindustri is going on out there?" He got closer to the bars, and checked to see that the force field was shut down as well.
Before he could further think about this, another sound clicked, echoing through the entire prison, as well as in Thomas' cell. This followed with sounds of people yelling in the far-off distance.
Thomas blinked, as the sound was that of the cell door unlocking, and opening. Not wanting to waste any time, Thomas bolted out of the door into the hallway. It appeared to be a coordinated prison break, and the robots were too busy to deal with whatever gunfire there was that they left the cells alone, letting its prisoners break out.
"An odd miracle, this," Thomas remarked, "But I'll take it." He looked around the dark hallway a moment to get his bearings. As the prison's emergency power turned on, the lights were rather dim. Thomas was unwilling to take on any enemies with just his fists, so the lighting might prove useful to sneak about and hide from view.
The corridor was empty in both directions, with only a few empty cells seen between where he was and the one way out. He could hear so much between gunfire, explosions, and people causing chaos.
Thomas' mind came up with two objectives. The first was getting out of here, naturally. He'll check on the source of most of the noise to see if he can somehow go out that way. If not, he'll have to find another way out. The other objective, however, was to get back his inventory. He would have to explore the prison for that, unsure exactly where they would store a prisoner's personal belongings. He could only hope they didn't dispose of it all, or worse, stumble across the tome that's aided the goddesses so far. He would have to hurry to find it.
Crouching down, Thomas began to sneak along the corridor, finding the lane that had the least amount of light to cover. Despite the noise elsewhere, he didn't want to set off any more noise to give himself away.
Thomas didn't take too long to try and hide the moment he exited his lone corridor. There, he saw a lobby-like area with many cells, all opened from earlier. The inmates that were let out have taken to brawling with whatever robots were nearby. It was hard to tell whether these inmates were here thanks to the robots or actual crimes committed in Leanbox, but it seemed these captives were taking out their frustrations, all the same.
The robots, for their part, were somehow willing to forgo using their weapons and tried to use their own metallic limbs to subdue their captives. At least, some of them were. It appeared to be just a way to distract them while some of their colleagues tried to stun the inmates with their weapons. This didn't go so well as some inmates took points around the lobby to ambush any robot that attempted this 'dishonorable' tactic.
The chaos allowed for Thomas to quietly slip by one such ambush, and he went into the next hallway nearby, which was heading in the direction of where all the noise came from. Avoiding any other contact, Thomas went back into the darkest areas, sneaking carefully down the new corridor. He had to stop on occasion to try and blend in while one or two robots somehow broke through the brawl and dashed ahead.
Turning one corner, Thomas was getting close to the noise, only to find the fighting in the next area to be far more intense. Whereas the brawl in the lobby-like area was mostly close-quarters, there was a shoot-out between two sides in another lobby, with junk piling up in the middle to block some shots. Thomas couldn't make out the other side, but did notice the robots were further down while whoever was attacking was further up. The robots that rushed ahead of him earlier made use of some of the junk lying about as cover to get to their allies.
He noticed two other things, as well. First, he saw another corridor heading another way at the other end of where he was. It looked a lot more calm and empty in comparison to what he's seen so far. The other thing was that there were a lot of bullets going back and forth between the two sides. Thomas was mortified by this crossfire, and he contemplated going back. There was no way he could pass though this...
Just as he was in thought, another explosion was heard, and seen, in the midst of the battle between the two side, setting off a fire around one of the junk piles. Likely a grenade set off. Thomas narrowed his eyes at this. "Great, any more and the sprinklers may turn on." He muttered this to himself, even though he didn't really spot any sprinklers around the area. He was just noting how crazy things have gotten.
His mind finally came up with an idea, and he shook his head in disbelief, "Am I really going to do that?" He looked over the fire that spread, but remained contained to a small junk pile right in the middle. The battle continued, and Thomas glanced back and forth between where he was and the battle, debating.
"I'm going insane," Thomas said dryly, but seemed ready to push his plan into motion. He began to focus, and recalled his magic training. Tapping into his SP, he concentrated on one of the spells he's learned, and waited for the right time, when it was just noisy enough.
"Flood!" Thomas exclaimed in between a barrage of gunfire, casting his water spell right at the fire, dousing the fire as much as he could. The resulting smoke was enough to make things hard for both sides to aim and fire. This caused a small window where the two sides presumably were moving about, trying to get a better aim. This was time for Thomas to make use of this 'break', and made a mad dash through the crossfire, keeping his head low and inwardly praying he wouldn't get hit.
Nearing the end, Thomas dove into the empty corridor in the confusion, rolling to a dark portion and stopping to take a breather before checking to see if his body was made into Swiss cheese. "Too insane," Thomas muttered, before thinking back to his earlier magic spell, "thank you, Ram." He was relieved that his bad luck did not extend to that crazy stunt he did. Perhaps his high agility allowed him to make it through?
The smoke cleared up soon after, with the two sides continuing their battle. While Thomas was tempted to give the robots another spell to help, he wanted to keep low. He slowly got up, still checking for holes and bullet wounds, as he still tried to figure out who were fighting these robots. Suddenly, a large wave of bullets flew down at the robots, creating quite some devastation. Thomas' eyes widened at the carnage, looking up only to see some red hair and someone snapping their finger in the midst of the bullet hell. He couldn't make out much else before deciding to leave that battle behind, moving briskly away and down the new corridor.
Thomas even had to remark on what he just saw, "I thought I saw everything as far as battles went."
Not even close.
The chaos was the main priority for the robots, who sent more of their patrols from the other side of the prison as reinforcements. In one of the darker corridors, two robots closed a door behind them to a more lit room. A few beeps and boops later, the robots turned and walked off in the direction of the battle.
While their priority was on subduing the riot and repelling the invaders, the robots recently received new instructions. The two basic robots turned on a flashlight along their shoulders, allowing its light to cover more of the corridor. Recognizing that their emergency power gave poor lighting, people have been sneaking around their field of vision. The flashlights were meant to compensate for now, until main power could be restored.
The robots were instructed to keep watch even as they were redirected, and their flashlights moved left to right, making sure to cover nearly every angle. Despite their increased vigil, the robots moved quickly down the corridor until they reached the corner, turning and heading away.
Meanwhile, a voice could be heard from near the door the robots left behind, "That's going to be a problem." The voice belonged to Thomas, who dipped his head down from above, looking like he was hanging from the ceiling.
He sort of was. Seeing the flashlights from earlier, Thomas used his climbing skills to scale along the wall and cling onto one of the old pipes that moved across the ceiling, holding on and letting the robots pass. Thankfully, those new instructions didn't come with the message 'also, look up, you idiots.'
Thomas clung onto the pipe with all his limbs until the robots left, and Thomas slowly 'stood' down, looking around with some of his hair dropping down. "All clear," Thomas quietly spoke, "For now anyway. Those lights are going to be tricky." He slowly turned his head to the door the robots left, "This area looks promising, though."
Before he could say any more, however, he felt his grip on the pipe slipping, as his legs weren't enough to keep him up. Needless to say, Thomas scrambled for a while before failing to hold, and fell to the floor with an audible thud. On the plus side, he didn't cushion the fall with his face, landing on his rear instead.
"Ow..." Thomas grimaced, as he still felt pain from that fall. It was manageable, yet not a good landing. He didn't waste time lingering. He hurried back up and looked around to make sure no one was about. The coast was still clear, and he proceeded to the door. It was unlocked, but was a solid door with nothing to look inside.
Thomas went to the door, leaning close, and slowly turned the large handle. Despite the noise he still made, he pressed on, slowly peering in to see a small but well-lit corridor leading to another similar door. Whatever was past this door might be important, and Thomas moved forward. Again, like all the other doors, it was unlocked, and Thomas slowly peeked inside.
Boxes. Thomas could see a large, decently-lit, storage room. Peeking his head further inside, he could make out more and more boxes. They were all sorted neatly into columns, across a few rows. Whatever this was, Thomas would have to look further to see what was inside.
"Looks like a secret government room where they keep all the confidential things," Thomas observed dryly, "I just hope none of these things contain a secret artifact that'll melt my face off." He shook his head, "I need to see what's exactly here."
Going inside, Thomas closed the door and looked around the room once more, making sure there was no one around. He immediately froze when he spotted a camera, worried that his presence could now be seen. However, upon closer inspection, the camera appeared off, perhaps deactivated from the earlier shutdown. Still, this did not set his mind at ease. He darted off to the nearest box, and carefully lifted the lid to take a look inside.
He quickly closed the box, "Inventory!" For any adventurer, this would be like walking into a room full of overstuffed treasure. Only, instead of treasure, it was personal belongings.
Thomas grimaced at a thought, "I don't want to loot these people's things, I have to find my old inventory." The question was, how to find it? Was he really going to check each individual box? That would take too long.
Looking around, he noticed that on each box was a small label with a series of numbers. Looking between some of the labels, he could surmise that these numbers referenced the cell where the prisoner was held. This was a guess, however, as he had no map or reference to what these numbers corresponded to. The best he could do was try and narrow it down to more unique numbers, as his cell was fairly isolated from presumably everyone else.
It took some time looking through the numbers and peeking into a few of the boxes. Thomas felt awkward having to look through someone else's old inventory, but he had to be certain. Eventually, he came across one in particular, with many items in it. He noticed the amount of minerals and herbs collected over the years, the battle items, a few bladed weapons, and, most importantly, an old book.
"Here it is!" Thomas exclaimed, finding his inventory, and opening the box to reclaim what he lost. There were some sorting issues trying to transfer all the items back in, but he took it all back. He even stopped to check the old tome, weird scribbles and all. The robots didn't take it. That was a huge relief to Thomas, who took out his scabbard and fixed the weapon back onto himself.
Thomas smiled weakly, as he drew out the weapon to check its condition, saying softly, "Well, whoever you were, you may have to wait on that 'disaster' you speak of. I'm not done just yet."
Suddenly, the emergency power went out for a second before the lights returned, brighter than before. The camera also whirred and started up. Looks like power had been restored. Thomas just had to open his mouth.
Thomas sweatdropped, "Crap." His first reaction was to deal with the camera, casting a smaller version of his Flood spell to destroy the camera before he could attract any more attention. It didn't matter, as he heard the familiar siren play out just outside the room he was in, signaling the robots to his presence.
Grabbing from his inventory while moving quickly to the entrance, Thomas went straight to quenching down some battle items to fully restore his health and SP. He had no time to savor the taste compared to his prior 'meal', opening the door to see two robots at the end of the corridor, turning their weapons to fire.
Thomas shut the door in time to block the shots, "Already here? Fine!" Fully closing the door, he stood back and got his sabre ready. He goaded the robots, though it was to psyche himself up more, "You're going to have to break through here to get to me, so do it! I'm not backing down! I will make you all regret the day you dealt with Thomas A-"
His speech was cut off as the door was forcefully pushed open by one of the robots, and Thomas immediately leapt to the offense. Despite his rush, this wasn't like the last battle where he had little in the way of a battle plan. He had a plan. He made sure to be right in the middle of the smaller corridor, using his short blade to his advantage to slice at the robot's weapons before going for the final blow.
He wasn't going to let any robot through to surround him, not like last time. He purposefully stood in the way, as more robots came to reinforce. He kept the distance close so the robots would be forced to use their blades or fists instead of their guns, though he would occasionally move back to close the door again to cover, and recover with the items and magic he had.
In essence, he created a defensive bottleneck, a choke point, making it difficult for the robots to advance on him. Thomas was well aware of this, and kept up his tactics, enduring whatever shots he had taken throughout. When a robot did get some shots from a distance, he would counter with his Flood spell. Even if he couldn't outright destroy them with his first attacks, he would succeed in pushing them back, giving him time to recover.
While this was a successful plan initially, he was struggling to keep up with the reinforcements pouring in. Regardless of how many he destroyed, there were more coming, and he was not dwindling their number nor stopping their resolve. What's worse was that, once more, he was starting to run out of recovery and battle items.
His advantage was starting to fade, and part of him was starting to accept that, perhaps, this was it. It didn't matter, though. Thomas was going to keep going this time. He would sooner die on his feet-
His train of thought was derailed by the sound of slashing and gunfire nearby. He couldn't see from his narrow field of view, but he could tell that someone was intervening. The robots further back took notice and turned to fire on whatever was attacking, only to be surprised by other robots being knocked back at them. In the confusion, Thomas charged, using his shoulders to push back the robots into the line of fire.
The attacker continued the advance with a few slashes, drastically dwindling the numbers. Unlike Thomas, this person had decent enough strength to tear through the basic robots. Whoever this person was must have leveled up significantly.
Thomas then heard the switch from blades to bullets. The attacker fired repeatedly on the dwindling number, blindingly moving so quickly that Thomas couldn't see that the attacker leapt over the few remaining, firing some more from above before landing on the other side, finishing the last robot off in dramatic fashion with one last bullet.
Thomas shook his head. Was he dreaming still? Even more perplexing to him was the figure in front of him, casually pausing in pose for the dramatic reveal.
"Like a true protagonist, she comes in to save an ally in need! Don't mind me, just passing by and doing a good deed!"
The attacker even sounded like a certain someone, but everything seemed off. The attacker, casually spinning her pistol before putting it away, looked very much like Neptune. The large purple eyes, the d-pad hair clips on lilac hair, the parka, the bubbly attitude. Yet, it was all off. Her hair was much longer. Her parka and hair clips had a black, darker color scheme. There were no stockings or socks on her legs, just black and purple shoes on her feet.
Most notably, this Neptune was bigger. Much bigger from the smaller Neptune, almost taking similar proportions to her CPU form. This Neptune turned over to check on the clearly stunned Thomas, who probably had his mind broken again. Nonetheless, this Neptune smiled happily, warmly greeting the person she just rescued.
"Heya there. Whassup?"