A/N. Here we go! Please remember that this is a rewrite of TGTBTR, but there will be some changes. The most notable change is the cast. While Makina and Medibot (now named Doc) are very much the same, the supporting cast is not Derwen's BLU Medic OC Horst Dieter-Ahlbach. This is because I only received permission to write Horst in the original and Derwen has now become inactive. I don't know if I have her permission to use him again so I just won't. Instead, I'm replacing his position with my own BLU Spy OC. The supporting botkiller team is also not the same as last time, though some prominent figures remain. You'll meet them in the next chapter. This story is also being posted to my AO3 account at the same username!
Gray huffed as he stared out at the stretches of barren land. From the crystal glass windows of his own office, the inventor gazed upon miles and miles of rocks, gravel and dirt that had been compacted and dried up by the sun. Very few things managed to survive out here in the Badlands, for the scorching heat of New Mexico was unkind and often vicious, out to kill anything before it could take root. There were a few stubborn weeds that had roots with the strength to crack compacted dirt, and the occasional shriveled remains of a tree or a shrub scattered across an otherwise plain sight. It almost seemed peaceful to look out upon such a stark and barren land, and know that somehow, life had indeed flourished in its own, special way.
Or rather, it's own noisy way. Somehow, even over fifty floors above the factory floor below, the constant noise of clumsy robots patrolling the facility, handling machines, and constantly knocking into one another was very much evident. And it was very much annoying. Gray pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. He could admit to himself that the poor capabilities of the robots was his own design flaw; a choice made out of laziness. And now he was paying the price for it.
Oh well. He could handle some noise, irritating as it was. After all, those useless machines with their rudimentary artificial intelligences would only be needed for a little while longer, before they became obsolete and were scrapped to make way for something new, stronger, and better. A little tongue-biting in the name of progress, and patience would be soon rewarded.
A knock came at the door, before it was pushed open. As Gray glanced behind him, he was relieved to see that it wasn't some Scoutbot come to tell him that the lobby was on fire again. Instead, it was an Engibot, modelled after a certain mercenary Gray had been observing for some time now. Almost all his bots were made with some kind of resemblance to some of his most notorious enemies. After all, what better way to study the enemy by having them close by? That was the initial logic after all, though it probably would have worked out better had Gray not made thousands of them with the intelligence of half a mercenary. And not even half a mercenary like the French assassin, or the German doctor - rather, half the intelligence of that rocket-launcher-wielding madman, or the scrapper who couldn't even write his own name properly.
Luckily, the Engibot was quite a few steps beyond the other models. There were only a few hundred of them for creating them took a lot of resources and time, but that surely paid off for they were really quite clever. Being mechanical and digital, they weren't nearly as smart as Gray himself. After all, he would never create something with the capacity to be beyond him. But at the very least, the Engibots weren't anywhere close to being as annoying as the rest of them.
"Come in," Gray commanded, as he turned his gaze back out to the dry, sun-bleached lands that stretched beyond the facility he called a headquarter. "I hope you have some good news. I'm getting awfully bored of waiting."
The Engibot stepped inside, shutting the glass doors of the office without so much as a sound. "All hail the Maker," It greeted, as it was programmed to do. Gray had a soft spot for such revelry and praise, and had been so kind as to feed his own ego here and there with little quirks to keep things lighthearted around an otherwise literally-robotic place. "I come with an update on the M-Series robots."
A smile graced the thin and spotted lips of a man who had lived for over a century and a half, but his gaze remained fixed on the scorching outdoors. "Ah, good. Do tell."
The soft whirring that was ever-so-present in all the bots got a little louder as the Engibot projected several images onto a glass whiteboard that had scribbles on the edges. Notes, plans, schedules laid out, now joined by a collage of images carefully documented. Gray didn't need to look at the images to know exactly what they were of.
"The frames are complete and have been test-run. Basic weapon functionality tests are complete and running at optimum capacity. Combat adaptability tests are complete and up to standard. The last thing to do requires your oversight."
Gray nodded in understanding, taking in everything the robotic engineer was saying. In his mind, he was mapping out everything before moving over to the glass board. He gripped a marker and began to write, ignoring the way his knuckles popped and cracked. Even with Australium running through every vein and carried by every cell, the body was sure to break down over time. A hundred and fifty years was a time much longer than any human body could bear, even with the help of the golden elixir of life.
He added to the scribbles on the board, writing down what was on his mind in a way that would be easy for him to understand, and not so much for anyone else who didn't see the big picture. If the M-Series robots were almost ready, then the finishing touches could begin. But to truly be able to move forward, there was something that he was going to need.
Once he was done adding to his notes on the board, Gray wandered back to window. At the furthest edges of the horizon, he could seen the tiniest sillhouette of a city, little peaks that broke against the flat skyline. "Very good," He muttered, "you are dismissed. But before you go, do send in Makina. It's time our plans moved forward."
His orders were acknowledged by the Engibot before it pattered away, metal footsteps still unable to be totally silent. The silence did not last long, as creaky joints and metal feet loosely dragging across the floor got closer. This time, it was a Sniperbot who had entered the room. Gray regarded the robot with a smirk.
"I see you're still holding up, Makina," The old man commented.
Makina was quite a special robot. A unique, one-in-a-million glitch allowed the robot to be quite humanlike in his ability to recognise and replicate human emotions at a rudimentary level. Not quite complex enough to spark arguments whether he deserved human rights, but a fascinating thing that Gray enjoyed having around.
When Makina didn't reply, Gray wandered over to the glass board. "I know you've been curious to know why I've been asking you to watch the mercenaries stationed at Mann Co's facilities, particularly the ones at the Mannhattan facility. And I'm sure you already know some of them are quite special."
A few images were projected onto the glass whiteboard, the source coming from a projector that was really just the head of an otherwise faulty prototype bot mounted on the ceiling. The pictures had been captured by Makina himself, for he had been the one scouting out these mercenaries for a few weeks now. He'd travel down to the city where the mercenaries were stationed and watch them from the rooftop of some building, just constantly capturing images through the scope of a rifle without their knowledge.
Gray had filtered out a few pictures of interest, displaying those of a RED Pyro and a BLU Spy. They didn't look to be anything special in most of the pictures, just going about their usual days of burning and stabbing any robot that was sent in the futile attempt to break down Mann Co's defenses. Makina watched as Gray continued to cycle through the images until he found one that was interesting enough to keep flashed up for awhile longer. It was of the RED Pyro burning robots as usual, and Makina felt nothing towards seeing his supposed-brethren getting engulfed in flames. What was so special was that the flames did not come from the nozzle of a crudely made flamethrower that Mann Co. had somehow managed to slap together and sell for exorbitant prices, but from the Pyro's own palms. Gray moved that picture aside but kept it flashed up, continuing to cycle through the rest of the pictures.
He focused on another one, this time of the BLU Spy. The assassin in the picture had been surrounded by hundreds of robots, all sparking and fizzling as electricity shot through their bodies and fried their circuitry. Makina clearly remembered this moment, for it had been preceded by an intense flash of light as though lightning had struck the Spy himself. The Sniperbot had an inkling of Gray's intention with these two mercenaries in particular, but simply remained silent and allowed Gray to explain it himself. It worked out like this, for Gray was a man who liked to talk and hated being interrupted, and Makina preferred to listen.
"You see, these two mercenaries are quite unique in their abilities. It is not just their combat proficiency or capability in battle. After all, how many humans do you know that can shoot fire from their hands, or make the heads of a hundred robots explode with their mind? I've asked you to observe them on my behalf because they are fascinating, just like you." Gray's cold gaze landed on Makina, but the Sniperbot's unfeeling stare remained still. Despite the ability to recognise and replicate emotions, he still had a face made of metal and was unable to emote the way a human would.
"I've been working on something quite special. I haven't said much of it to you yet, but the final piece we need before my special surprise is finished is these two mercenaries. Not to bring them any harm of course, for a dead mercenary cannot use their powers. But observing them from afar simply won't do anymore, and I would never ask you to just walk up to them since they'd kill you, and we don't want that."
Gray finally turned away from the window, a wicked smile plastered on his face. Makina was all too familiar with that look. Gray clearly had something up his sleeve that was far more intense and carefully thought out than anything before, but he was no longer thinking too hard about Makina's very existence. And for that reason, the humanlike bot had to just go along with it until a plan of his very own was ready to be executed.
"I need you to capture the two mercenaries. Just them. I'll send some backup with you to do the heavy lifting. All you will need to do is give them a little something that will make them more agreeable." Makina found his icy cold hand grabbed by Gray's thin, bony fingers. For a moment, Makina thought about how he could break Gray's hands with just a little twist. His palm was turned upside down and a tranquilizer dart was placed in his hand, before Gray curled the bot's fingers around the dart. "I trust you will know what to do?"
And for the first time since entering the room, Makina spoke. "Yes, Gray."
His acknowledgement was met with yet another smile that held no humour. "Very good. And before you go, do see that Medibot I assigned to you. Your creaking joints are going to alert the mercenaries before you even get close enough if you keep this up." Makina was dismissed with a wave of the hand, the Sniperbot turning to leave.
Makina made his way down the headquarters, taking the elevator down to just above the factory floor. While the factory floor was full of patrols and bots trying to work the machines to create more bots and their weapons, the floors above were dedicated to Medibot stations. A lot of Medibots tended to remain inactive at their stations and were only awakened by the system when a robot needed help or when they were being deployed, but there was one Medibot that was constantly active. Unlike most of the other bots who were not made to last too long, Doc was special. He had a shinier frame made from materials that were built to last. When Gray had introduced Makina to who was going to be his personal assistant, the old man had claimed that he upgraded Doc specifically so he could trail Makina around and prevent the Sniperbot from wearing down.
They had met for the first time a few months ago, and Makina had found out quite soon that he too was glitched. Doc was a genuinely nice robot who was always ready to help Makina, whether it was fixing a loose arm or oiling his joints, but Makina had been trying to convince him to wake up and escape the facility in the past few weeks.
The first time Makina had raised the idea, Doc had been adamant and refused as he was programmed to do. After all, Gray would of course have programmed them to be loyal to the facility and its owner like confused but excitable puppies. But Makina had his ways, and weeks of bringing him evidence of Gray's suspicious activities and cruelty had slowly pushed Doc towards agreeing. The Medibot remained uncertain, but Makina was sure he could tide him over.
Makina wandered along rows of Medibot stations, ignoring the few other bots who wandered through the area. Occasionally, a random Medibot would leave its station, armed with its medigun to go fix a Scoutbot that had its hand chopped off by one of the assembly machines's many moving parts or some other common occurrence.
Doc had been offered a small office of his own, somewhere he and Makina could stash themselves away. Well, it wasn't so much an office but rather a closet that had been cleared out. Two charging stations had been installed, and a weapon rack that Makina had stolen had been shoved inside behind a mountain of boxes. Those boxes contained some things that Doc considered a hobby, like books he had paid Spybots to steal from the human cities, or body parts of animal and non-animal origin. Makina never bothered to look into the boxes anyway.
Sure enough, when Makina pushed open the door, he found Doc crammed in the small room. The Medibot couldn't sit for his gyroscopes would never allow that kind of imbalance on a singular wheel, so he stood up in a corner with a book in his hands, the only light in the closet-office being that of a single bare bulb.
Doc looked up as Makina entered and shut the door behind. The last thing either of them wanted was some random bot getting inside, for they were pesky and annoyingly hard to get rid of once their interest was caught. "Ah, hello Makina. Need another oiling? I am sure I heard you from upstairs with all that creaking." He placed his book down and gestured for Makina to sit down on the singular chair pushed up against a corner of the uncomfortably small room.
Makina obeyed, never really minding what Doc did. "Thanks. And have you thought about the plan? The perfect time to get it going is coming soon."
Doc grabbed a can of oil and carefully stuck the nozzle in Makina's knee joints, letting enough oil run onto the metal ball joints to stop the constant squeaking noise every time he moved. "You keep asking about it. Are you really sure you want to do it? What is even out there anyway? We are safe here, no? Why risk leaving and getting destroyed by one of those mercenaries?"
If Makina could sigh, he would have. "You know you're programmed to say that and to want to stay here. I've shown you everything you need to see about this place. Gray is distracted now over his 'surprise plans' so he isn't thinking about us too much."
"What plans?"
"You know how I've been scouting out those mercenaries at the Mannhattan facility? Gray wants me to bring two of them here because they have special powers." Makina opened his palm to show the tranquilizer dart, which Doc picked up. The Medibot lifted up the vial to the light, observing the liquid inside it. For a moment, Doc's eyes shone brighter as he analyzed the drug.
"It's ketamine," The Medibot stated, returning the darts to Makina.
"That's great, whatever that means. I hope it doesn't kill them though, they just might be our way of escaping this hell."
"Ketamine can cause death if overdosed, especially of paired with alcohol or central nervous system depressants. But this doesn't look like too big of a dose, so they should be okay."
"I'm sure Gray knows what he's doing if he wants to talk to them," Makina huffed. "Look, this is really our chance to get out of here."
Doc met Makina's look evenly. Between the two of them, he had to be the voice of reason if Makina was going to be fuelled by desire and not logic. "You haven't answered my question yet. What is out there for us?"
Makina stood up, glad that his joints didn't make that horrible screeching sound it usually did. The oil was a temporary fix, but if he was going to escape, he didn't need his knees screaming and alerting everyone to where he was.
"It's freedom. Freedom is out there."