Nine had no idea how the others were doing, but it didn't take him long to realize that regrouping at sundown probably wasn't going to be an option. In fact, he now imagined that their work would drag on through the entirety of the night and well into the next day.
The destruction was even worse up close. The remains of the factory towered over them like steep mountainsides in an uncanny, unstable valley. Safely navigating through the wreckage was a challenge all its own, climbing over broken, steel beams and heavy slabs on concrete in an erratic trail. Not only were they forced to leave their wagon behind—confining their hunt within a much smaller area than they initially hoped—all the climbing they had to do drastically slowed their progress.
He could only hope that Seven and her team weren't experiencing the same difficulties. Overall, they had it easier—by sticking close to the perimeter of the factory, they could get to the tunnels while avoiding most of the debris—but still he wasn't entirely sure how much of the way could be blocked. Surely Seven would turn her group around and rejoin them if it came to it… She wouldn't on her own, he thought to himself with somewhat bitter amusement; she was too determined for that, but she wouldn't put anyone else in danger if she thought they couldn't handle the terrain.
At least there was a silver lining: They still hadn't spotted any machines and there was a pile of debris close by that was tall enough to use as a sort of watchmen's post—a role that One had claimed all to himself. For a moment, it had been baffling to see the elder scale the wreckage with vigor… That is until Nine realized, after the climb, One would just stay away from him and everyone else in safety, reclining back and watching them handle all of the heavy lifting.
It was good to see the others at work though. Sarah and Peter had split off as the young leaders under himself, guiding Six and Rosie separately. With the most experienced combined, Sarah and Six were able to comb through the rubble for useful materials the fastest—albeit with the latter's attention often drawn to small, miscellaneous pieces throughout. In contrast, Peter was taking careful steps to instruct his youngest sister on what to gather, as well as worked to avoid placing her near any human remains they happened to stumble across.
Dragging a scrap of rebar through the earth, Nine watched them, half amazed. Then he glanced over his shoulder, checking their surroundings as he'd done multiple times already. Even with One effectively 'on watch,' he was still concerned that something might crawl out of the wastes to attack. He stayed alert, regularly checking for each number of their group shuffling through the remains of the factory. While he was glad the others could remove themselves—at least a little—from the death and destruction that surrounded them, he didn't think he could give himself the luxury.
Sarah and Six were catching up to him at a brisk pace, the former's number facing him as she walked backwards, the two hefting some kind of small, metal wheel between them. "Do you think we could rebuild some kind of conveyer back home?" the girl asked, blinking up at the leader once they reached his side, "There's enough parts for it lying around."
Nine raised his shoulders in a shrug. To be honest, although he was inventive, he wasn't as interested in building things as Five and Two were. He simply kept himself busy with a range of things: From scavenging, to studying whatever knowledge the scientist had left behind, to training with Seven to improve his fighting skills. Even with both inventors in their party also simultaneously taking on roles as 'doctors,' he'd begun teaching himself more about their own, mechanical bodies to be of better use to the group as a whole. Because of that, Peter and Sarah said he was more of a 'jack of all trades,' whatever that meant. He just wanted to be useful for whatever their group needed him to be in the moment.
"We can bring a couple of those," he offered, nodding to the wheel, "and talk about it with the others later." In the very least, they could always construct another pulley: They'd crafted a few as it was, whether to help the twins reach more books or scale to higher levels inside the library. Together, the two sped on ahead and reached the wagon first, with Nine catching up not long after to help them load the piece with his own. He caught them before they could run off again, "Help me load some more rebar. There are a few more bars that'll fit."
Sometimes, it was difficult to find materials that were both small and sturdy. Few things worked to a Stitchpunk's size, and they didn't have many means of cutting or shaping what they needed into more useful pieces. In fact, some of the techniques they were forced to resort to where rudimentary at best. Rebar and wires were an exception, and were especially good finds for all types of work—so long as they could find the thicker metals in the right sizes. There didn't seem to be too much of it used in the Factory's construction—the building's design prioritizing the use of large beams—but the explosion that had torn it apart did so with enough force to leave plenty enough smaller materials behind.
The two obeyed, jogging on ahead to the pile he'd already gathered from the wreckage. Again, Nine took his time watching them, calmer than he had been initially as he followed after. He looked for the distinct 'ten' and 'eleven' rummaging further ahead, slightly above them on the sea of debris. Besides the latter trying to dig up more than she could carry, they were both still alright.
He didn't like that they couldn't see much over the destruction. The wealth of wreckage had the downside of leaving few good vantage points, especially since they were downhill. It made him keep looking back to One to check if the elder spied something he couldn't. Fortunately, One seemed to think the same, as he kept his optics focused more to the distance rather than their immediate surroundings, just in case any Scavengers decided to roll in.
He hoped that Seven and the others were doing alright. He didn't know if they would've already reached the tunnels or not, but they must've made it pretty far by now. Was Two keeping up ok? Were Peggie and the twins staying in sight? They were cautious, but their curiosity could occasionally get the better of them. Five still wasn't very outspoken and might have trouble calling them back. Seven wouldn't, but could she manage them on her own?
The two, young Stitchpunks helping him raced past with bits of rebar hefted over their shoulders. He was so caught in his worried thoughts that he had to sidestep out of the way at the last minute to avoid bumping into them as he gathered more himself. Nine rubbed the side of his face and turned it skyward. If this is what being a leader meant—worrying over everyone all the time—then he could at least partly understand how One had needed to develop a stern and bitter personality.
The call of his name beckoned his gaze back over to Peter. The youth waved for his attention, clasping his makeshift weapon at his side with the other hand. "We think we might've found something!" he shouted from his perch along a wide slide of concrete, "It's some thin, black metal but it's caught under the rock."
"Leave it if it's too hard to get out!" Nine yelled back; however, he stepped forward to climb the wreckage even as he said this. They weren't looking for anything in particular for the most part—just whatever might be useful—so it was just his own curiosity that carried him forward.
He reached their level on top of the debris just in time to watch Rosie tug hard on the metal piece her brother had described. It was thin, almost like a needle and possibly as sharp, but was wider. The lower half—connected to some kind of rotating joint—actually looked like it could be a used for a short sword. Eventually, the child pulled on it hard enough for the joint to snap loose, sending her flying back to land with a dull thud and the piece cradled in her arms.
Nine chuckled, helping her up before stepping over to Peter's side as she dusted herself off. It wasn't as bad as he at first thought: Just a large rock amid a heavy pile keeping the rest of the scrap buried underneath. The boy couldn't move it by himself, but it was possible that the two of them could. He ordered for Peter to brace the bottom with his seam ripper while he pushed the stone from the other side. The small girl hung back as they worked.
After about a minute, they'd uncovered the remains of a pair of spiderbots. The sight of the smashed bodies nearly made Nine recoil at the memory of hundred's of them crawling through every inch of the Factory during Seven's rescue. They were far from the biggest beast any Stitchpunk had fought, but they were quick and deadly—with four vigilant eyes and a mouth lined with fangs designed to tear into enemies and drag what's left to their fallen master.
Nine didn't have time to process whether his initial panic was justified or not: Another set of thing legs erupted from the rock before he could, a viscous screech following after them. There were more of the machines, shuddering out from the nearly made opening in a disjointed heap—scrambling over each other as they fought to reach the light and them. Nine leapt back as leg shot out to try to scratch him. Rosie screamed, darting back behind her brother who quickly ushered her further away.
They must've been trapped and huddled together all this while beneath the rubble! Nine couldn't even tell how many spiderbots there were at first, and for a moment their simultaneous efforts to charge out had pinned them against the sides of the narrow opening and each other, to the point where they just looked like a writhing mass of limbs. It gave the Stitchpunks enough time to compose themselves though. Nine reached for his staff and Peter already had his seam ripper in-hand, jumping into a fighting stance.
"What are those things?!" the boy shouted, but the leader was already skirting around them, looping around the remaining stone in attempt to seal the machines away once again or at least stem their exit. Unfortunately, they'd already scrambled out enough that it was impossible. Soon enough, the first had dug itself out, crawling over the rock to reach him. Nine fought it back, flickering the light at the end of the staff to blind it long enough for him to recover some distance and weave out of reach.
Ten dove for the ones still pressed together in a flailing mass, stabbing at them with his on weapon. Another with its head out managed to catch it in its jaws, trying to draw him closer as he wrestled to take it back. Nine swiftly rammed his body under the youth, grabbing the seam ripper with his free hand to help pull it loose and get the both of them further back once more before the first spiderbot could recover.
For a second, his attention faltered as he caught movement to his far right. One had climbed down from his post and was motioning Eleven further away into hiding. Good—so long as there weren't more of the mechanical monstrosities lurking around. He braced himself as the freed bot lurched for him, this time raising his staff sideways to block the attack. It clamped its fang hard on the rod, an ugly guttural sound akin to a snarl sputtering out of it.
Normally, the spiderbots could easily overpower them, but these hadn't lasted through the Factory's destruction completely unscathed: A couple had their eyes shattered, their bodies were dented stained from burns, legs were broken or bent. Although still fierce, luck was on the Stitchpunks' sides. Ten stepped around to his left, keeping back just behind his shoulder. Then, after a moment's delay, he sprung forward.
With Nine keeping the beast's fangs back, Ten was easily able to thrust the ripper in another stabbing motion. Metal clanked against metal as it first sprang back against the bots' hardened shell, missing one of its smaller eyes as it wriggled in place. Then he quickly attacked a second time, driving it through the much larger target on the other side. It shattered through glass and Nine moved back, nearly losing his grip on his own weapon as Ten's own shot across in front of him to reach.
The spiderbot reared back with another fearsome shriek as Ten hung on, dragged along with it as the ripper kept in place within its eye socket. Without hesitation, Nine rebounded back—spinning staff around to the blunt end and driving it deep within the newly made wound as well. He felt metal tear through metal and thin cords break under the force of the blow as both Stitchpunks continued to dig their weapons even deeper within the bot and it released its dying cries.
They'd only just finished it off and jumped back to face the rest when Thirteen finally reached them, a horrified look on her face. Neither of them had time to comfort her: Their leader just shouted a brief command as two more spiderbots broke free, "The eye! Go for the large eye and you can damage their inner circuits!"
The girl didn't need much direction beyond that. Her time spent hunting through the Wasteland for her siblings had hardened her enough to fight back. Her weapon was thinner, but she had a survivor's ruthlessness on her side. She went for the weakest of the two, its right set of legs maimed and forcing it to hobble toward them. Skirting over to its weak side, she threw herself against it with a harsh cry of her own and punched through the glass. It made Nine wince at the sight, thinking of the possible damage.
Soon enough though, he was too caught up in the fight again to reprimand her. Ten helped him trip the third bot and then raced to face off against the last two making their way out of the hole. Damaged as they were, they were fairly easy to destroy once they were down. Aiming again for the large, glowing target, Nine pierced through and watched the burning glow die. Terrifying as they were—especially in large numbers—he was glad for that Achilles' heel. Leaving their inner workings so unprotected showed that they weren't made for combat as much as he initially thought, although their size and speed alone still concerned him.
Ten was unlucky enough to see that speed for himself. It's back legs still good, the final bot had jumped on top of him with he was battling the fourth, knocking up to the ground and forcing him on the defense as he blocked its snapping maw. By then, Thirteen had finished off her own beast and raced to her brother's side—a pile of wires abandoned on the ground near its twitching remains.
The remaining spiderbot tried to join the other and attack both of them, but Nine moved in fast to guard them. While Thirteen pounced on her brother's attacker, Nine caught sight of one of the other's damaged limbs and drove his staff in an upward arc to snap it the rest of the way in two. It collapsed, giving him enough time to finish it off as the siblings took care of the last one together—Thirteen at least unsheathing her pin to catch the bot's fangs while Ten curled his body along the earth to reach the eye and dig his ripper into it just as he had before.
Then silence fell as the trio caught their imaginary breath, waiting to see if more of the machines were to drag themselves out of hiding. Nine was the first to move, quietly shuffling back near the hole and peering inside. All clear: There was nothing left but broken pieces of blackened metal and more earth beneath that. If there were more bots, they'd already been crushed under the weight of the debris. There had only been enough room and bad luck for those few to survive.
Nine just hoped that there weren't pockets of them elsewhere. He got a sick feeling in his gut that there were though, or that more must've escaped the Factory before it blew up—running around somewhere else within the ruined city. If those had survived, there was no promise that there weren't more. His thoughts went to Seven and the others. He hoped they were prepared if they ran into some…
Sidestepping around the bodies, he moved back to the siblings and leaned against his staff. "Are you both alright?"
"Where's Rosie?" Thirteen asked, the heat of the moment replaced with her earlier dread as she looked around frantically for their youngest sister.
As Ten picked himself up, he gave her a reassuring grin and gripped her shoulder. Meanwhile, Nine took her hand and briefly examined it. The fabric near her wrist had frayed a bit, but nothing that couldn't be easily fixed. He was just glad she hadn't hurt herself worse: She might've risked electrocution with that move. "Eleven's ok: I saw her with One," he confirmed, then gently chided, "You need to be more careful yourself. You might be in this body, but we're far from invincible. Stick with your weapons when you can."
Although she nodded, Nine didn't think she was fully listening, thoughts remaining on her siblings foremost. He smirked, but reminded himself to talk to Seven about this later—when they met back and could recap the events of their separate missions in private.
"What are these things?" Ten—Peter—asked, repeating his earlier question.
Nine didn't know whether or not the Fabrication Machine had designed the spiderbot before or after he woke up, but it didn't really surprise him either if the children didn't know what they were, given their long period in-hiding. "Just another beast. There used to be a lot of them around there. We thought they'd all been destroyed with the Factory. Guess not…" he exhaled, "So keep an eye out."
"Nine?"
It was Six this time. Somehow, as sneaky as he could be every now and then, the artist had climbed up to them and over to the hole. He was in it, leaning against the rock with his arms on flat ground and a rounded amalgamation of metal shield by carefully shaped plates in his hands. His knit brows were furrowed. Nine stared back in bewilderment, and after a moment even Sarah raised a hand over her mouth in shock.
Until then, Nine had only known what their kind's own insides looked like for two reasons: From looking over the Scientist's blueprints and helping the children craft their own bodies. He never expected to find what was essentially a Stitchpunk's 'brain' in the Wastelands, but he knew it could only belong to one person: The only one of the original nine that hadn't come back from death.