He groaned a bit, his eyes straining to open against the light of the room around him. His head was throbbing, and his back ached, too. He brought his right hand to his face, rubbing his weary eyes as he tried to make sense of where he was.
His vision was blurry, and he couldn't make a ton of details immediately, but at first, it seemed like there was no ceiling to the cave he was in – maybe he was outside? Had he finally found a way out of the caves? But…he could clearly feel the unevenness of the ground jutting and poking into his backside, and the walls around him seemed to stretch as high as the sky. He could hear the sound of bat wings flapping as well, although there was another sound…footsteps, coming closer and closer to him.
He wearily grasped for his Polar Star, grabbing nothing before remembering he had traded it with Curly for the much larger and bulkier machine gun. Instead, he started reaching for the sword on his belt, trying to get a grip on the handle before whatever was approaching him could cause him any harm.
The blurriness in his vision began to fade, giving him a much sharper image of the room he was in and what he was looking at, when he suddenly came face-to-face with a creature of some kind. All of its skin was an ocean-blue, its eyes a pure white with otherwise no features. It had pointed ears, like a cat, with grey devices attached to their lobes. But otherwise, it had no other feature to its face: no nose or mouth.
"Are you alright?" it asked, a hole where its mouth should have been suddenly opening and flapping with each word. Its voice was deep and synthesized, clearly unnatural. Was this thing a robot, like himself? "We've checked you over for injuries when you landed." Quote looked alarmed suddenly: there were others here? "It's alright; we're all friends here in the Labyrinth. Your possessions are safe, and your body appears fine, if a little bruised. Can you stand?"
Quote was awake enough to understand everything the robot was saying to him. He gave standing a try: his arms and legs hurt, as if he had taken a hard beating from something. The robot said he had 'landed' here? Then, he must have fallen for a short distance before landing on his back, to make his body hurt like this. All the same, with a short grunt, he managed to pull himself into a sitting position, before carrying himself onto his feet. Nothing felt broken, thank goodness, but everything had felt better.
"I bet Misery tossed you down here," the blue robot continued as Quote checked himself over for all his possessions. Machine gun, missile launcher, King's sword, Toroko's pendant, the weird jar Jenka had given him – everything seemed to be accounted for. The other robot didn't mind when Quote chose not respond to his words. "You poor thing. This is the island's trash heap." Quote looked around the room, seeing not a lot of trash, but two other blue robots just like the one he was talking to. One of them sat in the corner, its eyes pitch black, while the other one was standing sternly next to the other single thick, heavy, metal door in or out of the room. Above him was a mishmash maze of rocks chained to the walls that led straight up for as far as he could see, the blackness eventually blocking his vision after several stories. "Once you get in, there's no way for you to get out."
"Well, that's not totally true," the other blue robot standing next to the door said. His voice was exactly the same as the first robot's – in fact, they both looked exactly the same, down to the odd brown shirt and green shorts they wore. "This door can lead us out."
"We've gone over this," the first replied exhaustedly. "Maybe it will lead us out, but there's no way to open it. The switch is at the top of this room, and two of us have already tried to reach it." Quote looked straight up again – the switch to open the door was at the top of this room? Well, no wonder nobody's been able to get the door open; he can't even see the top!
The second robot had seen Quote's curious glance straight up, noting its surprised expression at the odd placement of the 'key'. "Our friend sitting in the corner and I," it said, grabbing Quote's attention, "both tried reaching the switch at the top before. The rocks chained to the walls and suspended in the air can serve as platforms to get us up there: I'm certain that it was intentionally set up this way. But, when I tried, I broke my legs when I fell; I'm not standing guard at the door because I feel like it. And when he tried, well…we're still waiting for him to wake up."
Quote looked around the room for some footholds in the walls for him to climb to. He spotted one just on the other side of where he was standing, and from there he could leap to stone after stone that gradually led him straight up the column. But each stone was fairly compact to begin with. "The footing is pretty tricky," it continued, "but it's more than possible, I'm sure of it."
Quote kept eyeing the first few leaps he'd need to take in order to climb up to the top of this room. One jump onto the foothold just in front of him, and from there a small hop onto a boulder suspended in the air from several chains (none of which were in his way, perhaps intentionally), across another, larger platform, and from there onto the opposite wall, going back and forth straight up for who knows how far.
He readjusted his red cap on his messy hair before removing his heaviest weapons, his missile launcher and his machine gun, and placing them gently on the floor. He didn't have a ton of reasons to trust these other robots that he just met, but, it wasn't like they were going to run off with his stuff. "You're going to try and reach the switch?!" the first one asked him, alarmed. Quote gave him a quick nod, stretching the joints in his arms and legs before he began. It was a good excuse to better get used to his limits with just how mobile his body was, although lately he's been getting a good idea of just what those limits were. "Are you certain? You only just woke up. Are you sure you shouldn't rest a bit more?"
"He's been asleep for half a day," the second intervened. "I'm sure he's feeling well rested." Truth be told, he wouldn't mind waiting a little while longer while his agitated head calmed down, but he couldn't wait; the Doctor was still out there, and Sue and Kazuma were still at a risk. Getting up a running start, he jumped right at the small platform jutting out of the rocky wall, and from there onto the first suspended platform, then to the next, continuing up the massive shaft by jumping onto the chained debris.
After only a few stories, the ground shrank steadily away from his vision with each new platform he managed to leap to, and the three blue robots slowly began to shrink until they were nothing more than little pixels in his vision. As he continued – feeling the sheath beat against his thigh with each running jump and land – the platforms began taking on more intricate designs, sometimes either too large or tall for any human to make, as if it was specifically designed for something inhuman to traverse. This place could have been an artefact of the war from ten years ago – a bunker, or prisoner-of-war cell perhaps – though he didn't really see a lot of evidence to prove or disprove that idea. Each leap seemed feeble enough for a Mimiga to make, and it was definitely obvious that the platforms weren't from debris of the walls coming loose and collapsing down on them.
He had no real concept of time in the caves, but in just a blink of an eye, he had climbed so far up the shaft that he couldn't see the ground anymore; it had melted into the darkness, just as the ceiling was beginning to come into view for him another few stories up. The more active he got with each jump and grab, the more the pain in his back ebbed away, although his head wasn't feeling any better or worse from all the movement and excitement of being so high off the ground. He wondered just how far the others managed to get before they fell.
It seemed natural to him, making huge, impossible leaps from one suspended platform to another, onto another foothold in the wall, to repeat the process again and again as he climbed higher. Finding the next place to jump to was harder than actually jumping to it: he managed to vault every pillar and clear every gap, and his hands easily gripped every ledge and his feet never slipped from each landing. He had come a long way since he had woken up in that first cave so long ago.
One final platform to leap to; it seemed to extend out from the rocky ceiling itself, rather than be suspended by any wire or chain. It was an easy jump that he had no trouble clearing, placing both his feet safely on the ground underneath him – although, the little alcove he was in was not reinforced by any chain; he was effectively standing on nothing. He suddenly felt anxious at the idea of the little ledge collapsing underneath him: he needed to find that switch, and press it before he lost his nerve.
In the far corner of the blackness of the alcove was a lit monitor, standing on top of a plain wooden desk with a simple keyboard sitting in front of it. Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs, having been completely untouched for perhaps a decade. It still ran, and the last command was still lit on screen, waiting ten years for someone to find it and give it its one input.
Open door Y/N? the monitor displayed in neon green, the one dash under the letters blinking regularly. The keyboard itself, while hidden under layers and layers of dust, grime, and cobwebs, remained legible, the font on its keys unfazed by time. It was a tough little machine, still working perfectly after so long.
He reached forward and pressed the 'Y' key on the keyboard once – there was an extremely faint rumbling noise coming from all the way down on the floor of the shaft as the large, metal door slid open, its hinges creaking and screeching every inch it moved. Once the rumbling stopped, the machine instantly shut down, a single spark fazing out from the innards of the monitor, forever unresponsive.
Making his way back down was much easier than going up, although he had to be careful to not get overzealous and miss a platform. It was much easier to fall than it was to jump, but he wasn't too warm to the idea of testing his limits to their brink just yet, and instead carefully made his way down with short, controlled falls and leaps.
The floor of the column was devoid of any movement; the two blue robots had left when they saw that he had managed to open the door (he assumed the one with the broken legs was just carried), and the non-responsive robot sitting in the corner was as still as a statue. His missile launcher and his machine gun were both exactly where he had left them, thankfully; he placed the launcher behind his right shoulder and clipped the machine gun to his left. Fully equipped, he left the room, eager to find his way out of this 'Labyrinth' and get his way back to Sue and Kazuma, and Curly.
The narrow, short hallways were damp and dark, forcing his head low and he often had to walk sideways through some of the tighter areas. All the same, while the rocky walls would painfully scrape against his skin occasionally, it was all fairly linear to him; there were no constant forks and junctions like he had assumed the Labyrinth to be, and rarely were there obstacles he had to step over or duck under. He felt a sense of claustrophobia as he continued, although the narrow spaces didn't bother him so much as his often inability to see where he was going.
Finally managing to push out into a wider, well-lit area, the first creature to greet him was a cockroach the size of a man. It was scavenging the ground, looking for any miniscule scrap of anything that could be considered edible; it dove forward to eat what might have been a mouse, or a leaf or blade of grass from someplace else, or even a smaller insect, its huge mandibles working hard to process the food for its empty belly.
Quote opted not to approach it aggressively, though there wasn't a lot of room for him to walk past in the one-way path leading farther into the maze. The cockroach hadn't noticed him yet; if he was just quiet and kept to himself, he should be able to squeeze right past the giant bug, without any fuss.
He back to the wall, he shimmied his way quietly forward, slinking his way past the cockroach without making too much noise. Inevitably, however, the cockroach noticed the pearl-white robot trying to sneak past him, and turned to look Quote in the eye, its own eyes taking up more than half its head. He kept going, though, careful not to make any sudden movement and provoke the thing mistakenly.
"Hello there!" it said cheerfully. That caused him to stop in his tracks. "Are you new to the Labyrinth?" Its voice was very scratchy and sounded almost improvised, but its words were eligible enough. Just what didn't speak in this island?! "Ah, you don't need to say anything," it said, its mandibles moving with his 'words' but his expression otherwise unchanging – maybe. He had an unsurprisingly difficult time reading a cockroach's expressions and emotions. "We get that look of total surprise and shock down here in the Labyrinth with every newcomer. We Gaudi don't take offence to it; how often do you see a species like ours speak so casually, huh?" It made some kind of laughing noise as it spoke – maybe.
It scurried up to Quote quickly, walking on four of its rear legs, the other two probably passing for fingerless hands. It looked him over closely, with him still plastered to the wall, not making a move towards any of his weapons. "You're no Mimiga," it concluded. "You look more like one of those soldiers from the surface. Not that I was there, actually – I'm just going by the descriptions my ancestor's ancestors passed down to us. We didn't fight in the war, though; it wasn't our problem, so we just stayed out of everybody's hair. Fancy that, for Gaudi, am I right?" It made that odd laughing noise again; Quote remained still, unsure of what to think, exactly. "Oh, come on, lighten up," it said, sounding almost a little hurt. "You're a robot; gears and steel don't do much good for the system, you know? Nobody here is going to try and hurt you, so you can stop giving me that look any minute now."
The Gaudi's voice and tone implied that he really didn't mean any harm, but the sound of its voice was just way too spooky to him. It took a moment to convince himself, but he slowly relaxed, coming away from the rocky wall of the cave and dropping his arms to his sides non-threateningly. "You see? There you go," it chirped happily. "You just spend some time with us and you'll find that we can be just as cute and cuddly as the Mimiga." Quote couldn't tell if it was serious or not.
"So, hey, listen," the bug said as he faced into the cave, expecting Quote to start following. "We recently found another robot just like you, only a few hours ago. Same skin tone as you, but other than that, well…you all look alike to us, you know? I'm sure it's the same deal with you." As they crested a short hill, the floor of the Labyrinth opened up dramatically, revealing a well-maintained windowless house off in the distance, but more than that, there were a dozen more of those Gaudi roaming the floors in search of any scrap of food they could find. Aside from varying sizes, it was correct: Quote couldn't tell them apart. "We're keeping it in that house just over – hey, man, how's it going?" it derailed, waving one of its pseudo-hands towards another of the insects off in the distance. "…over there; it seemed pretty badly beat up. We're having some – hey, you, how's the east side treating you?" Were these creatures this social by design, or was it just him? Just as quickly as he paused his discussion with Quote, he resumed it. "We're having some doctors look at it. Or, at least, they say they're doctors, but I haven't seen their credentials or anything, so I dunno for certain."
Quote suddenly sped up his walking, the mere mention of the title 'doctor' quickening his pace and his nerves. It wasn't likely that the Doctor was down here, actually treating a patient, but his worried mind raced with possibilities all the same. What if actually was him? What if these Gaudi were in on it? Would he have to fight his way out?
His right hand was placed lightly on the shoulder clamp of his machine gun as he reached for the door's handle with his left, ready to lock-and-load at a moment's notice if he had to – although, having just gotten back from a devastating battle himself (his head still throbbed from whatever clubbed him after the fact), he wasn't sure if he was physically prepared for quite this much more action.
Inside the building were more Gaudi, which didn't really surprise him, and the same two blue robots he had met earlier were mingling with the insects in the far corner, apparently having survived the walk. What was fairly peculiar was how the building was stacked to the ceiling in various locations with metal crates, each adorned with a crudely-painted missile on its side. A munitions warehouse, maybe? An odd place to practice medicine, but then again, there probably weren't a lot of homes in the Labyrinth, period.
"It's just over here," his new travelling companion said, pushing past him and walking further into the warehouse. "And relax, eh? I told you, you're not a Mimiga, so you're safe from us."
"Aw, he's not?" asked another, lurking in the shadows near the door, startling Quote. He had to resist the urge to pull the machine gun off his shoulder and start firing. "That's really too bad. I'm so hungry for Mimiga flesh…"
"Hey, don't surprise him like that," the first one scolded, turning around to get in the other's face. "The guy's new here, and he's pretty jumpy as it is. He doesn't need any more surprises like that."
"Come on, he even smells like Mimiga!" The first one's voice erupted into a confusing flurry of clicks and trills, speaking in a language totally unknown to him. They continued speaking in their way for a few seconds, the first one sounding angrier and angrier, before the second finally yielded. "My bad, then," it finished, hiding back in its corner. If nothing else, these creatures at least seemed moderately courteous. They both resumed walking back into the warehouse, brushing past one giant metal crate after another, going deeper into the warehouse. Quote was beginning to get a little nervous and distrusting, when they finally came to a room with its door open, and in the room were two smaller creatures, with Curly sitting up on the bed.
He rushed into the room, pushing past the insect, suddenly concerned over what she was doing in the bed, and why she needed doctors. At first glance, she didn't seem very well; her legs appeared stiff, and her right arm was kept in a sloppy splint. Her hair was a mess and her tank-top was a little ripped. Had she gotten into a fight? Was she okay?
She looked up when she heard running footsteps enter the room. Her expression immediately perked, a wide smile spreading across her face when she realized who it was. "Oh, hey Quote!" she called cheerfully, waving her good hand at him as he approached. "I haven't seen you in a while! You're looking pretty good! Fancy new sword, too!" He didn't reply, instead smiling sheepishly back at her. He wished he felt as good as he apparently looked.
"That witch sent you down here too, huh?" she asked, quickly changing the subject to something a bit more neutral. "Same as me! Well, no duh, right?" She laughed at herself, but her expression quickly changed to something a bit more downtrodden as she recalled those events. "So, you must not have been able to beat them after all…I had seen you fight – heh, my hand still hurts from that wicked nice shot you made – so I had my hopes for you. You seemed way more capable than me, so I was kinda banking on you being able to beat them for me.
"Shortly after you left with Hajime, the witch and her lunchbox showed up at my little orphanage. They wanted the kids for something, wouldn't say what. I put that Polar Star you gave me to work – I still got it right here, see?" She leaned to her side, showing the pistol still dutifully attached to a makeshift holster on her hip. "I put up one heck of a fight, but, well…" She waved her splinted arm, and ran her other hand through her hair. "You can probably guess how it ended. I blacked out before I could save any of the children…" It was clearly a painful memory for her to bring up. "In the shape I'm in now, I won't be leaving any time soon."
"Nurse," the doctor whispered, just loud enough for Quote and the nurse to hear. He turned away from Curly to see who was talking; he hadn't gotten a clear look of anyone else when he first entered the room, being too focused on Curly. The doctor was fairly short in stature, only standing up to his chest. His body shape was almost exactly like Balrog's, only with little peaks on the top of his head where his eyebrows would be. His skin was a fair green and his eyes were a pitch-black. He wore a doctor's overcoat with a tiny red tie clipped onto his neck. Could this guy really be considered a physician?
"Help the girl relax," the doctor ordered. The nurse looked almost exactly the same as the doctor, only its eyes were larger and wider, and wore nothing except a nurse's cap on the top of its skull. It also appeared to be wearing some kind of blush on its 'cheeks'. "You, boy," it continued, pointing at Quote with its little stub-arms. "I'd like to talk to you outside for a moment."
He looked back at Curly, who was also listening. She gave him a warm smile. "Go on," she encouraged, shooing them both away with her good hand. "I'll be fine, don't you worry. These are good people, trust me." With her leave, Quote exited the room just behind the doctor, closing the door softly behind him.
"Are you related to that girl?" it asked, cutting right to the chase. The familiar feeling of being unable to answer honestly gripped him. They could very well have been related, for all he honestly knew. He decided that their acquainted relationship was honest enough, though, and nodded his head. "I see. She was pretty beat up when she was first found down here in the Labyrinth. Twisted ankles, dislocated arms, torn skin…needless to say, she was a mess. Whoever she fought up there meant business." He looked back at the door, peeking through its only tiny window inside the room. Misery and Balrog had really done all that to her? They just kept giving him reasons to pay them back.
"But don't worry about her," the doctor continued confidently. "I specialize in humans and Mimiga, and she's clearly not human, but she heals like one. A few casts and splints and band-aides, and she was nearly ready to go four hours later. You robots are pretty darn hardy. She was just being melodramatic when she said that she wasn't going to be able to leave anytime soon; I'm nearly ready to kick her out now." He chuckled lowly to himself; Quote didn't find it the least bit amusing. Did they really use band-aides? "If you're willing to wait an hour or two, I can send you both off in a bit."
Quote nodded, looking back through the window as the nurse helped Curly lie down as she prepared to actually remove the fresh gauze on the splint. He supposed that it shouldn't be that surprising: if he could take a crushing hit to the stomach and walk it off just a quarter-hour later, then it would make sense that she had the same unusual healing ability. He wouldn't mind waiting another little while as she recovered.
The tiny physician wordlessly entered the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Quote in the open warehouse filled with containers carrying missiles. His own launcher was a little low on ammo; he had used a decent bulk of them fighting off Toroko only a few hours ago. Now would be a good time to restock.
He jumped to the top of a stack that wasn't pressed against the ceiling and, after fiddling with the locks on the end of the container, managed to swing the door open to reveal boxes and crates, each containing armed missiles. These creatures were either extremely daring, or just oblivious: any violent mistreatment, or maybe a house-fire or something, could cause these things to explode and lift the roof right off the whole island.
He reached into the crate and pulled out a single missile, finding an empty clamp to attach it to. But it wouldn't fit; the missile in general, but particularly the warhead, was a good size larger than his usual ammunition and couldn't successfully clamp in place to his launcher. He searched the other boxes, looking for some missiles that was more his make, but couldn't find any; they were all the same size, unable to fit onto his own weapon.
"Hey, there," he heard from below him. He turned around, looking down to the bottom of the stack, seeing another of those Gaudi standing vertically and looking up towards him. "Having some trouble?"
Quote saw that there wasn't any use in staying up here and trying to find the proverbial needle-in-the-hay-stack, so he may as well jump down and see what the giant insect wanted. Just as soon as he landed, the Gaudi knew what the problem was. "I may not look like it," it began. "In fact, we may not look like a lot of things, honestly, but I'm actually a trained munitions expert. And I can tell right away that the missile launcher you have there is too obsolete for our stock." Quote was surprised, realizing that this creature was better-versed when it came to weapons than himself. "But these older Mark Two Standard Rocket Shoulder-Mounted Launchers – that's a mouthful, I know – have a few awesome pieces of tech in them that later versions had to pull for one reason or another. So, I'll tell you what." It turned away from him and began pacing towards another crate in the far corner. He wasn't sure exactly what this thing had in mind. "Trade me your own SRSML Mark Two, and I'll give you this."
From the box, the Gaudi pulled out a missile launcher very similar to his own, but coloured a more conspicuous orange compared to his white, and it appeared to have a good deal other buttons and gizmos equipped to it. "This is an SRSML Mark Three. It can hold up to a dozen more missiles than your own; the sight has been upgraded to include information such as compass direction, depth, and enemy targets in range; and it has a sort of 'panic' option where it unloads all its stock with a press of a button. Guaranteed to take down even the most frenzied of Mimiga, no sweat." Quote was almost sold on the deal, until he was reminded on what he could be using it on again. "While your launcher cannot supply Mark Three cargo, a Mark Three can support a Mark Two's cargo, so if you find any more missiles outside of the Labyrinth, you're still good to go. Not that you'll need to keep your current missiles, given our…surplus stock." It extended the launcher towards him, ready to make the trade as soon as he accepted the deal. "So! Just gimme your Mark Two, and I'll give you this Mark Three in exchange."
"You sure don't waste your breath, do you?" another Gaudi asked, overhearing the entire sales-pitch. "You've been practicing that sale, or what?"
"Nah," it replied, "I'm just excited to get that launcher of his. I could really use its parts to make something better." It turned back to Quote, the launcher it was carrying extended forward in its feeler-like 'hands'. "We got a deal?"
Quote accepted the weapon from it, at first simply looking it over. He own launcher always had at least one missile still loaded into it, but just from a cursory feel, the Mark Three was quite a bit lighter than his own. Whoever manufactured these weapons certainly had the user's best interests in mind. He brought the shoulder mount onto his right shoulder, looking down its sight as he did with his current weapon – the grips were a little closer while the whole weapon was a little longer, and the weapon had a small scope to peer through as his sights.
"There's a switch on the scope that you press to turn on all those features I told you about," the Gaudi said. Quote searched the scope, and there was indeed a small button on the outside. He pressed it, and the inside of the scope came to life, giving him all sorts of readouts: there was a compass on the bottom of the eyepiece; a digital clock in the upper right-hand corner; and a radar on the left-hand side. As the reticule on the centre of the eyepiece roamed over several different targets, a small icon blipped on the radar, and a scale on the bottom right-hand corner told him the distance between where he was standing and his locked-on target, as well as an estimated time the rocket would take to hit after it fired.
Quote was very impressed with the whole set-up, and was more than willing to make the trade, even if physically holding it would take some quick getting used to. "Now, I know what you're thinking," the Gaudi continued. "It makes no sense for me to be willing to trade such a high-tech piece of equipment for something obsolete, right? And for free, even? Well, like I said, Mark Two's have a bit of tech under-the-hood that Mark Three's do not have, and if I could just get a hold of one like yours, I'd have all that I need to make a truly remarkable piece of armament later. I already have the specs and blueprints all drawn up and mapped out, and in fact, I was busy at work making it some time ago, but we were burgled recently, and my prototype was one of the things they took from us. That, and…" it stepped aside, allowing Quote to look into the crate that it had pulled the missile launcher from. "As you can see, we're pretty stocked up on Mark Three's anyhow, even after the recent burglary. May as well pass some out. So, what do you say, friend?" it asked again. "We got a deal?"
Quote lowered the new launcher to make room for his old one to swing around his arm, offering his weapon by the strap. "Oh, you can keep the shoulder strap," it offered. "You'd have more use for it than I would." He nodded thankfully, unclipping the strap on both ends from the weapon, and clipping them back on to his new weapon. "Pleasure doing business with you!" it chirped happily, rushing behind his crate and wasting no time in dissecting the Mark Two, feverishly digging for those fabled chips of technology.
He still had some time to kill before Curly was well enough to leave, so he spent it just bumming around the warehouse, enjoying but not using the new features on his missile launcher and getting reacquainted with its new grips. He wasn't particularly social himself, although the talkative, friendly nature of the Gaudi kindly picked up the slack for him; he didn't really need to go far or ask many questions, but one of them would always seem to find him and start a new conversation whenever he was left alone long enough. He was an excellent listener, and he learned several different facts and rumours, each always reinforced by another Gaudi that might have been listening in. He learned that they were on an island, and that the island was suspended thousands of feet in the air – although Jenka had told him the same story, so it wasn't news. He did learn that whatever was keeping the island afloat was resting in the centre of the Labyrinth.
"Long, long ago," one of the Gaudi began – he had met and 'talked' to so many that they all just sort of blended together, so maybe he was actually listening to one he had already met. None of them introduced themselves with names, either, leading him to believe that their culture simply didn't include them. Nonetheless, he let it continue, "there lived a witch on this island. She's the one who constructed this Labyrinth, in order to keep us Gaudi penned up." Jenka fit that description fairly well, being a witch and being from 'long, long ago', although he doubted the Labyrinth was constructed simply for that purpose, if the first rumour held any weight to it.
The topic was changed swiftly to the maze itself, when some other Gaudi joined in the conversation. He wasn't sure if he should feel apprehensive about being surrounded by giant talking cockroaches. "There is an exit to this Labyrinth, you know," one of them pitched. "But it's covered by a giant boulder. And they say that moving the boulder would just be the beginning of your trials."
"That's true, there is a giant boulder at the end of the Labyrinth," another began. "And it's tough to call this place a 'Labyrinth', in all fairness, since it's mostly just one large line going from one end of the island to the other. No bends or twists anywhere in it."
Another Gaudi butted into the conversation, and none of them seemed to think a second thought about it – it seemed their entire livelihood was based around being social, where anyone could just cut into the middle of a discussion and nobody would object. "I heard that, during the war, the soldiers from the surface actually found the Labyrinth, and it lived up to its name easily. They wandered around, lost for weeks with no direction, trying to find their way out. Rather than try to figure it out, though, they just blew up the walls until they found what they wanted."
It was very interesting, listening and learning from the Gaudi. He managed to pinpoint some of the subtle differences between the females and the males (thanks wholly to some Gaudi helpfully pointing them out to him): the females had shorter mandibles and antennae, and had hairless backs, compared to the rough, short fur-like hair on the males. Other than those few minor differences, they were all roughly the same height, and their voices were always very scratchy, nearly sounding fake, with little deviation between them.
He occasionally flicked the scope of his new, fully-loaded missile launcher on to toy with some of its new features, but more importantly, he focused more on the clock in the corner, to monitor how long Curly had been in the room in the distance of the warehouse. Shortly after an hour and a half, Curly emerged from the room, fully dressed and without any bandages or splints on her – she appeared totally recovered: as healthy as the moment he met her. Which itself was less than half a day ago, he realized.
"…as a horse," he heard the physician say as he excitedly jogged up to her. "There isn't a whole lot more I can do for you, Miss Brace. You've recovered faster than I could patch you up; surely you knew that combat androids like yourself had exceptional healing properties, right?"
"No, I didn't!" she insisted, twirling around to face the little doctor that only stood to her knees, briefly looking Quote in the eye as she registered him. She moved naturally and fluidly enough for him to believe that she had made a full recovery, even if she didn't quite believe it herself. "I'm not a 'combat' anything, either! Ask Quote, he knows how well I can handle a gun! Tell him, Quote!"
They both looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to give his answer. His eyes shifted between them both, nervously wondering what exactly he should say as Curly crossed her arms and began tapping her feet. She was pretty…fresh with the machine gun. He gave the doctor a sheepish nod as he shrugged his shoulders, for the most part confirming her story that she wasn't exactly the most battle-hardened character he knew.
"Well, whether or not you're any good with a weapon is beside the point," he said matter-of-factly. "All signs of your earlier injuries are gone, Miss Brace, and just from how your standing there, your arms crossed and your feet tapping, I can see that your shoulders, elbows and ankles have all healed splendidly. Your black eyes are gone, too. There simply isn't anything more I can do to help you, whether you think so or not."
"But I don't think–"
"There are Gaudi I must be tending to, Miss Brace," he interrupted, which seemed odd to Quote; didn't the physician say he specialized in Mimiga and humans? The Gaudi looked nothing like either. "I, of course, don't mean to be rude, but if there's nothing more that I can do for you, then there's nothing more I can do for you." And before Curly could get another clear word in, the doctor had returned to his room, closing his door behind him.
Curly stammered a bit, trying to find the appropriate words to summarize just how she felt about the physician's attitude. "What a jerk!" she finally managed to yell, facing Quote. "What kind of doctor turns his back on his patients like that? He knew I barely had the strength to stand when I showed up here, and he just kicks me out a few hours later? Where's the etiquette? Where's the professionalism?!" She was clearly irritated about the whole debacle, although he didn't see what she was fretting over; she didn't look like she was hurt at all. Maybe she just wasn't used to the idea that they, as robots, recovered pretty swiftly compared to the organics of the island.
She fumed to herself over how rude the doctor was to her, but calmed down enough to speak to Quote about more important matters than herself. "I guess he's not wrong about me being better, though," she lamented, waving her arms and kicking her legs, and not feeling the littlest pinch of pain from any part of her body. "But enough about me and my problems; how did you get down here, Quote? Did you get what you needed from Jenka?" He didn't respond – he didn't know how he got down here, since everything after leaving the storehouse was a total blank, and he had an emotionally difficult time recalling everything that happened in it. "Hey, you don't need to answer," she said reassuringly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "If it was as tough for you to handle as it was for me, then, well, say no more." He gave her a thankful look, and she responded with a kind smile. "But, either way," she continued, "we need to get back out somehow. Do you have any ideas?"
"Oh, hey," another Gaudi interrupted, overhearing that last part. "You say you need to get out of the Labyrinth?"
"Yes, we do!" replied Curly, putting on a friendly grin as she talked to the five-foot bipedal cockroach. She might have been acquainted with them already, as far as he knew. "Do you have any ideas? Is there a way out of here?"
"Nope," it replied. "None that we have found. But don't get your hopes down; way at the East end of the Labyrinth is a room with a single, giant boulder in it that supposedly blocks the last exit out of here. If you can move that rock, then you might just have your way out."
"And you've never, say, gotten together and pooled your strength to move it? Or maybe build something to help you move it?"
"Nah, we don't need to," it chirped joyfully. "We have everything we need down here, and we've never really had much want or reason to find a way out, so we're never really gave it a try. You're more than welcome to give it a go, though."
She smiled again. "Thanks for the tip!"
"You're very welcome. Anytime!"
The very first Gaudi he met was nearly correct: they weren't nearly as cute and cuddly as Mimiga, but they were alright folks all the same.
Straight ahead from the hut, the Labyrinth continued as far as they could see. There were hills reaching as high as the ceiling, and valleys that stretched for miles and miles in all directions. There were no features or landmarks in the Labyrinth; it would have been all too easy to get lost and find yourself wandering the vast, seemingly limitless dusty desert of the Labyrinth forever. However, the Gaudi littered the entire area, and they seemed to have no trouble telling one area of the infinite Labyrinth from the next. Having lived there for entire generations, certain spots and signs in the walls made for easy landmarks, and they could tell where they were at all times.
Curly did all the talking for the both of them, and then some, usually, being a veritable chatterbox. Despite their memories only expanding the last few days or so, she always managed to find a topic to ramble on about, like what the rest of the island looked like, or if there were any other creatures within the island. Quote didn't have a ton to say, on the other hand, but he was an excellent listener and he happily paid attention to everything she said, laughing at her jokes and considering some of her wilder ideas about the island and whatever else might be living in it. After bipedal cockroaches, pretty much anything was still possible.
Thanks to the handy new missile launcher Quote had, it wasn't the least bit difficult to keep track of their direction with the compass built into the sight. They travelled at a steady east, never seeing anything that particularly caught their eyes as far as landmarks or just sight-seeing went for nearly an hour after beginning their trek. Neither of them were the least bit tired from all the walking: Quote was simply used to it after Grasstown and the Sand Zone, although he wasn't too certain about Curly's stamina.
There were traces of the war from ten years ago strewn about the far eastern end of the Labyrinth: there were tread marks strewn across the ground from where tanks had rolled on, and there were weapons, helmets and some rubber boots lying idly on the ground in scattered places. The weapons were far too rusted to be any more use, and the boots that were still in decent, wearable condition were always the wrong size. Not that they really entertained the idea of using either anyway.
One of the most particular relics of the past was a gigantic tank that was parked seemingly in the middle of nowhere. There was no evidence of a town or anything nearby that could have been in the tank's way – it seemed as though it was simply abandoned for almost no reason. It had four sets of treads, the tank itself taking on an X-shape, with two treads on the floor and the other two pressed solidly against the ceiling. Each tread was large enough for Quote to stand on and still have more than enough room for manoeuvrability. The centre of the shape was fortified well, surrounded by a thick, light-brown metal that had a single, small opening in the centre on either side. On all for of its thick, strong legs was a metal green chute; a small device that appeared to be used to either fire something out, judging from the burnt soot on the rims of the chutes.
After investigating the tank – Curly said she wanted to just because it was there, but he knew she was looking for something that might be able to tell her more about herself – with nothing to yield from it, they continued their long walk down the emptiness of the Labyrinth. The Gaudi had stopped appearing regularly two miles ago, and there weren't any to find wandering out as far as they were. Just how large was the island if this place continued straight ahead for as long as it did? Just as Quote was beginning to wonder about their position, the endless floor simply halted as a wall crawled its way over the horizon with each step forward. There was an opening in the bottom of the wall – they hoped it led to that room with the supposedly impassable boulder blocking their way out. Once the wall was totally visible over the cresting horizon, they broke into a steady jog towards it.
Just past the small arch leading away from the huge nothingness of the Labyrinth was another, smaller room, containing no large boulder. It was a vertical shaft, much like the room Quote had awoken in, although they were already at the top of the shaft, and the bottom was beyond their field of vision, fading into the darkness a few stories straight down. There were no makeshift platforms suspended by chains like before: a drop down was a one-way trip.
Across from the ledge they were standing on was another. Three metres away or so; it'd be quite the jump to make, although he was confident that he could clear it. There was a wooden door on it, although what was beyond it was anyone's guess.
"I'm willing to bet that's where our way out is," Curly said, already stretching her legs and knees. "So all we gotta do it make this jump, right? Okay, that shouldn't be too hard." With little warning, she began sprinting towards the edge, pumping her legs and swinging her arms wide as she neared that edge, ready to spring forward and put her life in that one long jump–
Quote managed to grab her by the shoulder just as she took the first few steps, stopping her before she could even get close. He looked really anxious, and sighed heavily when he managed to stop her. "What?" she asked curiously. "We have to make this jump, you know. There's no other place left for us to go, unless you want to wander in the Labyrinth some more." He shook his head – he knew that this was where they needed to be. He glanced downwards, towards her ankles, and then turned over his shoulder, looking down into the seemingly bottomless pit. "Oh, I get it, you're worried that I'm still hurt and that I might not make it." He nodded once slowly, confirming her suspicions. "That's really sweet of you, Quote, but don't worry about me. If my ankles were hurting me that badly, do you think I would have been able to walk all the way across the Labyrinth on my own two feet? That tiny little doctor, as rude as he was, was right – I'm feeling fit as a fiddle. I can make that jump, don't you worry."
He glanced back towards the pit, and then back at her, pointing his thumb towards himself. "You want to jump first?" He nodded determinedly. "Still no, Quote. Don't get me wrong – I know you can make it. You seem to be way better at the whole 'being a soldier' thing than me, moving and shooting the way you do. But, aside from my clothes, all I'm carrying is the tiny Polar Star. You're carrying a machine gun, a missile launcher, a sword, and I don't even know what else. I want to be on the other side first so I can catch you in case, you know, you need catching." She raised a good point: he was carrying quite a bit of equipment, and he took it all off when he first woke up in the Labyrinth specifically to make his movement easier. He didn't have that luxury this time; he wasn't sure what his limits were with all the weights.
She smiled, winked, and flicked him on his steel nose. "Haven't you learned to never argue with the girls yet? We're always right." She laughed to herself when she saw his dumbfounded expression as he tried thinking up different scenarios and possibilities, all so he could go first. "I'm making this jump first, Quote, and I'm not taking a no for an answer."
With no further objections, she took a few steps away from the ledge to give herself running room. Taking a deep breath and giving each of her ankles a quick twist – man, she thought to herself, now Quote's made me nervous – she turned around and gauged the distance between her starting point and the ledge. Backing up just a little bit more, she sprinted forward, pumping her legs and swinging her arms wide as she neared that ledge, and this time Quote didn't try to stop her, against his better judgment.
Just as her right foot hit the very end of the ledge, she sprung forward with everything she had, flexing her knee and her ankle as she left the ground. Her arms still swinging and her legs still kicking as she soared through the air towards the other side, it was clear to them both when she made it halfway that she was going to make it. She didn't let up on her movements, though, and landed on her left foot gracelessly on the other side. She tripped and faltered a bit as she rode out the last of her momentum, but managed to stay upright as she finally came to a stop, safely on the other end of the gap.
Just as she landed, a peculiar humming sound filled the air just above them both. It sounded familiar to Quote – not quite the sound a teleporter makes when it's active, but still oddly similar to it. He looked up, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound–
A man quickly fell between him and Curly, going straight down the gap between the ledges. He was hollering in fear, his limbs flapping and his body spinning as he flew down the pit, unable to grasp anything that might break his fall. Quote almost didn't recognize any features on the man, but he managed to catch a few tells as his spun and fell. That relatively short figure; the white lab coat that flapped loosely in the wind; the white Mohawk; the rose-pink glasses as the man managed to catch a definite look right at Quote on his way down…
Professor Booster yelled nothing in particular as he fell – just a single, flat tone as he careened out of control straight down for who knows how far. Quote had no idea what had led to this, or how Professor Booster had even appeared there in the first place, but his first instinct was to jump down after him and see if he could be saved before anything happened.
He and Curly were looking nervously straight down the pit, watching Professor Booster fall and slowly disappear into the darkness. There was no heavy 'flump' noise of him hitting the ground, and his yelling seemed to continue into infinity, echoing off the rocky walls back up to them as he fell. Quote began searching for a way down – some rocks that he could use as a ladder and climb down, or something. He had to get down there!
"Quote?" Curly asked, noticing him looking around the room for something frantically. He turned back to her, looking her in the eyes – he was terrified, and was panicking over needing to find a way down there. After losing Toroko and King, he wasn't looking forward to talking with Sue and Kazuma over losing their mentor. "You're not seriously trying to find a way down, are you?" He nodded a few times quickly, scanning the walls: the rocks and boulders were all too smooth to make for good footholds. There had to be something!
"No, Quote, don't do something that stupid!" He looked back at her, his eyes wide and his mouth open dumbly as he tried to coherently drum up a reason why he had to. "I don't know who that guy was, but come on, Quote! We don't know how far down this thing goes. We haven't even heard him land yet!" Professor Booster's yell continued to reverberate off the walls, although it was extremely faint by now. "And I don't know why it's so important to you, but think about it…I'm sure you've made some other friends since you woke up. If you chase after that guy, you might just wind up losing yourself too." He was listening, and he looked like he didn't want to.
"We'll come back for him later, I promise," she said soothingly, trying to appeal to him on a softer scale. "But right now, we need to get out of this Labyrinth. And I'm not about to go on without you, Quote." She paused, seeing him calm down a bit after she had made that promise to him. "Just…come on. Make the jump, and we can get out of this place."
He looked down the pit again, and he couldn't deny that she was right. Like in the shaft he woke up in, it extended so far that he couldn't see just how far up it went, and if this shaft was the same height, falling straight down would definitely be a death sentence. Since there were no clear footholds in the walls either, he had to agree that it'd be suicide to attempt it.
Defeated, his conscious heavy and his mind clouded with the idea of simply leaving Professor Booster there without making any real attempt to rescue him, he backed up to give himself as much room as he needed, like Curly had. Eyeing the edge of the ledge, he sprinted forward, mimicking Curly's actions exactly, and sprung forward much like she had off his right foot. He continued to make the movements in the air, getting as much distance as he could with the jump. Even with all his equipment weighing him down, he still managed to clear the jump without Curly's help, although not with as much leeway as she had. Regardless, she stood on the edge, her arms outstretched to catch him, just in case.
He collided full force into Curly's open arms, the both of them tumbling over each other from the momentum of the leap as they hit the rear wall hard, Quote on his back, and Curly on her stomach. They both moaned a bit as they pulled themselves to their feet; Curly dusted off her clothes, though Quote didn't bother. Having gone this far without a fresh set of clothes, he figured he was just going to get them dirty again soon anyway.
"Try not to let it get you down, Quote," she said as she reached for the knob of the door. "I know what it's like to lose friends and loved ones…believe me, I do." He had nearly forgotten about how she lost her four young Mimiga when she was brought here. She did mention how she had 'adopted' them shortly after she woke up – it must still be eating her up on the inside, knowing that the Doctor had them wherever he was keeping Mimiga, and there was nothing she could do to protect them from him now. She was putting up a brave face as she turned the knob, trying to convince Quote that it wasn't bothering her as much as she wanted him to believe, but he could feel that she was as close to breaking down over it as he was.
Past the door was a small room, barely the size of the warehouse at the beginning of the Labyrinth. In it was a single massive boulder, covering an obvious hole in the wall – they could see the outline of the way out peek out from the corners of the boulder, and there was also a steady breeze coming from the cracks. The boulder was adorned with a string of paper charms, although their purpose was lost on them both. It looked as though it would have required at least two, healthy people to move the boulder, but even then they had doubts.
"So, that Gaudi was telling the truth, alright," Curly narrated, placing her hands on her hips as she eyed the giant rock over. "If we can just get this big rock out of the way, we can get to the exit." She hummed to herself, judging all the numerous ways they could try to get the boulder out of the way. Lifting it? Rolling it? Quote was at her side, considering their options as well. "You know what's on the other side?" she asked, turning to look him in the eyes. He shook his head no. "Well, I heard some Gaudi mention a rumour about a monster nest that lies just beyond here. But you heard it yourself: none of the Gaudi even bothered to try and move it for whole generations. So a rumour's just a rumour, you know?" She rubbed her palms together. "Anyway, let's get this thing out of the way. You hold that side." She pointed to the left side of the boulder as she made her way to the right.
The robots were on either side of the boulder, their hands firmly held onto some part of the boulder's craggy notches and grips. "Ready?" asked Curly, readjusted her own grip. "On the count of three, we push. One…two…" They both pushed on the boulder with all their might in one direction, trying to get the obstacle to yield under their collected strength. "Three!" Curly groaned as she flexed her arms and legs, prying her fingers across the stone as she put everything she had into getting the rock to move. Quote was putting in just as much effort, sliding his feet across the ground, trying to find a catch for him to gain leverage with as he put every ounce of strength into moving the rock. However, despite all their efforts, the boulder didn't so much as budge. It remained firmly in place, unmoved a single inch.
They rested a brief few seconds to catch their breath. Their fingers remained locked in place on the boulder. "Again!" Curly grunted as they tried once more to get the boulder to move. This was their only way out of the Labyrinth; if this failed, they'd have no way to get back to the Mimiga village, or to Sand Zone, or anywhere else on the island. Regardless, the only thing that moved in the room was the dirt under their heels as their feet slid across the ground when the boulder would not.
Curly sighed, letting go of the rock and dropping her hands to her sides. She looked the boulder over some more, unsure of what they should do. "It hasn't moved one bit," she lamented. "I'm not sure if the two of us are strong enough…what do you think we should do? Should we try going back through the Labyrinth and ask some of the Gaudi for help?" Quote shook his head no – the walk back would cost them too much time, and there wasn't even a guarantee that the Gaudi would even be willing. He had another idea, though: he slipped his new missile launcher over his shoulder, readying his sights squarely on the centre of the boulder. He had used missile to blow open a rusted, reinforced door before; there wasn't anything to suggest it wouldn't work on a boulder.
They were both stepping away from the boulder, giving themselves as much space as they could before Quote pulled that trigger to unleash a flurry of missiles right into the boulder. "Huzzah!" they heard just before Quote could do the deed: a huge 'bang' filled the room from just outside the door, and just as quickly, Balrog came bursting through the door – destroying the frame with it.
Quote quickly changed targets, aiming his missile launcher right at Balrog's giant, flat face. The stab wounds King had given him were patched together, although it looked fairly second-hand and poorly done. Seeing Balrog only reminded him of the whole episode in the storehouse, and he wasn't above just unloading everything he had right then and there, to vent his anger and frustrations at the Doctor into Balrog, without giving him the chance to explain himself like he normally had in the past.
"You!" Curly shouted – and she didn't sound the least bit livid about seeing him. Quote took his eye off the sight just long enough to look at Curly, to see if he could decipher would she was thinking. She was grinning widely, like she had when she first saw Quote in the warehouse a few hours ago. She couldn't really be happy to see Balrog, could she? Wasn't Balrog one of the ones who beat her to a bloody pulp? Wasn't Balrog one of the ones that took her adopted children from her? She should be just as infuriated at seeing that huge, empty grin on the briefcase's face as he was.
Balrog laughed cheerfully when he saw the two robots, and almost totally ignored Quote's missile launcher, as if he almost expected him not to fire. "You're both alive, I see! You, boy soldier," he said, pointing his right stub at Quote, "how's that lump on the head treating you? And you, girl soldier," he continued, moving the same stub to Curly, "I'm impressed you're even out and about after how badly me and Misery whooped you back in the Sand Zone!"
That's how Quote fell unconscious after he left the storehouse? Balrog managed to slip behind him and knock him out? He just felt more and more vindicated against him the more he spoke. "Heh, yeah, you sure got me good," Curly replied, obviously not sharing the ire. "Water under the bridge, though." He nearly gagged on his own breath when she said that; was she serious?!
Balrog seemed unfazed from Curly's open understanding of the situation and her passiveness towards the whole ordeal. "And you're also trying to get out of the Labyrinth! Now, we can't have that, can we? Shouldn't you be staying put like good little robots?" Balrog eased his giant grin as he approached a more mutual topic. "You can't stand up to my master any more than I can, you know. As long as he's got that Demon Crown on him, he's no mere human; his power is even greater than Misery's! And you think you can fight that? I'd like to see you try!"
"So, hey," Curly interrupted, stepping forward a bit. Quote didn't know we he didn't just start exploding the briefcase when he first got the chance. "You're just who we were looking for. We need some extra muscle to move this boulder; could you take the middle? You look pretty strong. We should be able to get it out of the way with your help, easy!"
Balrog was caught off-guard from that sort of request, and it showed. He had an incredulous look, pausing before responding for a moment. "Are you even listening to me? Why would I help you?" he asked seriously. Quote was pretty surprised by her suddenness as well, and just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that she wasn't absolutely fuming at him. "You're keeping up with everything happening around you, right, girl soldier? You are aware that you and I are supposed to be bitter rivals, right? You two are the shining heroes of justice and virtue, and I'm a stout advocate for all the evil and bleakness in today's world, and all that jazz. We're supposed to hate each other."
She openly laughed at his aggrandized version of their positions. "Yeah, I've been keeping up," she managed to say between quick giggles. "I haven't forgotten what you've done to me in the Sand Zone. But here in the Labyrinth – in 'the island's trash heap', remember – I think we can make an exception. That witch woman that you were paired with must have ran out of uses for you, and that's why you're here, right? So we're all in the same boat, and I'm sure you're here, in this chamber, because you want to get out of here just as badly as we do."
Balrog was left speechless again, although for different reasons; he hadn't thought of things from her perspective, and she managed to drill a hole in his entire verbal defence without any effort at all. He thought Misery was just being a jerk, as always, but…could she really think he was useless now? What about the Doctor? What if it was his idea?! She was right about him wanting a way out of the Labyrinth, but now she had brought up all sorts of different possibilities and scenarios for him to seriously evaluate later.
"So, how about it?" she asked again, waving her arms towards the boulder. "Always room for one more. We would appreciate the favour." Quote kept his missile launcher aimed at Balrog, although her words had just as much an impact on him as it did on Balrog, and he was easing the tension in his arms. He still had a heated disfavour for Balrog, but, like she said: here in the Labyrinth, they were refugees looking for a way out before they were enemies.
Balrog stood still, processing his thoughts, before giving a soft, defeated chuckle. "Listen, girl soldier…hey, what are your names?"
Curly's expression beamed when he asked. "Well! My name is Curly, Curly Brace. And my friend with the itchy trigger finger here's name is Quote."
Balrog returned the smile, and it almost seemed genuine to Quote. "My name's Balrog, although boy sol– Quote, and I, are…well, we know each other." Balrog took a few steps backwards as he continued. "Listen. You've made a good point, Curly, and I'd rather not fight if I don't have to. That one Mimiga in the storehouse did a real number on me, and I'm hardly in any shape to keep going, see?" He tried to motion to the patches on his face, although it was a particularly difficult action for him, given the shapes of his arms. "But my allegiance is to whoever wears the Demon Crown, and I can't go against whoever wears it, no matter how much I want to."
"Why not?"
"I just…can't. Misery can't either. You wouldn't understand, Curly." Balrog widened his stance, looking as though he was about to charge forward. "I'll make you two a deal, though. If you can beat me in a fight – a fair fight. I'm not going to go easy on you – then I'll be forced to admit that there's nothing I can do to stop you, and I'll help you move the boulder."
"And if you win?" Curly asked, stalling while she reached for her Polar Star at her belt.
"Well…if I win, it'd be game over for you two. Not hard to imagine. Are you ready?" Before either of them could respond, he had charged forward, blindsiding Quote and knocking the missile launcher out of his surprised hands and giving him a hard kick to the stomach, catapulting him a small distance.
Curly quickly drew the Polar Star and began firing relentlessly at Balrog's body, aiming at no particular area. She had no strategy when she fought them both in the Sand Zone not so long ago, and her game plan hadn't changed a bit since then: pull the trigger and don't get hit. And like last time, Balrog responded to each shot with a flinch and a charge, changing his target to aim straight for her. She wasn't nearly as good at fighting as Quote was, but she had learned to dodge and counterattack since she and Quote had their fight.
Quote quickly pulled himself together and reached for his machine gun – before he changed his mind and unsheathed the sword instead. The chamber they were in was very small, naturally not lending itself to a lot of manoeuvrability, and he was worried he might get Curly in his sights in the struggle, so fighting with either the machine gun or the missile launcher would be uncomfortably risky. That, and, he was pretty confident he could fight Balrog toe-to-toe anyway, so it would be a good time to get in some practice with his swordsmanship.
Holding the sword by the handle in both hands to his right side – like how he saw King hold it – he wordlessly barrelled towards Balrog's backside and made an overhead swing, bringing it down as hard as he could onto Balrog's top. It bounced off his hide with a powerful 'twang', and the vibration sent a painful shock into his wrists, causing him to loosen his grip and lower the sword. Balrog certainly felt the strike, however, and immediately turned around to swat Quote as hard as he could with his left stub. As flimsy as his hands looked, they packed quite a punch: Quote was lifted right off the ground from the strength of the swing, and landed harshly on his side, dropping the sword mid-flight.
Curly kept up her own offensive while Balrog was distracted, pelting him with more of those air-like shots the Polar Star fired into his back, the top of his 'head' carrying a noticeable divot on its edge. She kept her feet planted just a little wider than her shoulder-width, and her arms locked straight forward as she made every shot. Balrog quickly whirled back around and charged straight for her, taking each shot to the face as he ran. Well before he was close enough to do any damage, Curly leapt off the ground, flying over her attacker while keeping her Polar Star trained on him. She jumped as high as Quote could, easily; she effortlessly cleared Balrog, but as she came crashing back down to the ground, twisting her ankles and mistakenly locking her knees, she still hadn't practiced her landings.
Quote was back up, the sword back in his hands as he considered running back to Balrog and starting their melee again. He tried to imagine himself moving like King when he watched him fight in the storehouse: fluidly dodging and strafing every swing and punch, reading his opponent's movements and tells without a problem and responding to each attack with one of his own. King never tried to make a particularly powerful swing like Quote had, instead sticking with smaller and quicker slices and thrusts to whittle down his target. And if Balrog was telling the truth about King making those two wounds on him, he must have really put everything into it.
He ran forward, sword at his side and gripped tightly, ready to try and do some more damage. Balrog, well aware of the advance, leapt into the like Curly had, and began flapping his stubs to keep himself afloat. Quote had expected the trick, though, and was right in the air with him, the tip of his sword pointed forward to make another devastating thrust into the briefcase's other cheek.
What Quote hadn't expected was for Balrog's outer casing to suddenly flap open on the outsides, revealing a large array of armaments suddenly pointed towards him, each armed with a single large missile. Before Quote could extend his arms forward, the missiles each launched all at once, threatening to rip him apart – the memory of the damage his own missile launcher did to Balrog when he was transformed into that giant frog flashed in his mind as he saw each missile soar forward.
Thinking quickly, he swung his arms overhand, attempting to bat a missile or two away from him. He managed to knock one away, but before he could attempt a second underhand swing, another missile caught him square in the face, exploding on impact. His kept his grip on the sword, if only just, as he somersaulted backwards out of the sky from the impact, Balrog harmlessly flying over his falling body. Landing feet-first but his body limp, Quote's body bounced off the ground, doing another flip over his own feet before coming to a rest on his back. He was alive and conscious, but that explosion to the face did quite a number on his senses.
Curly, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity of the distraction and dashed towards the missile launcher Quote had dropped earlier, grabbing it and lifting it to her shoulders. She had no idea how to work the weapon, though: she stood straight up and she looked down the offline sight, the fingers on her right hand searching frantically for a button or a lever or something to push or pull or press to start firing. She was aiming in Balrog's general direction the whole time, trying to fire the stupid weapon at him before he could–
She found a button and pressed it. She didn't know and didn't care what button it was or what it did; she was panicked to find a way to fire the weapon before Balrog got close enough to hit her again. With the simple press, every missile the launcher had lit up and began to fire, one after the other, soaring in whatever direction she was facing. The thrusts from the weapon knocked her off-balance, quickly bringing her to her knees as she frantically tried to aim the weapon at Balrog. As she fell, so did her aim, causing several of the missiles to skim the ground and explode against the wall – missing the boulder as well. But she didn't miss a beat, and brought the missile launcher back up, carefully aiming at a very surprised Balrog with the remainder of its ammunition.
Balrog was lit up as every missile made a powerful connection, their warheads detonating against his already damaged frame. He was lifted further into the sky as the cushion of the explosions levitated him, before finally collapsing right back to the ground after the last missile made its mark on his face. He landed on his back, motionless, his feet still and his stubs limp. Quote slowly brought himself to his feet, still recoiling from his own hit, his hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword. He didn't see what had happened to Balrog; he just heard a lot of explosions, all one right after the other, before all sounds suddenly ceased.
Curly lowered the missile launcher, allowing its front end to lean into the ground. The weapon wasn't particularly heavy, especially since it no longer had any ammunition to it, but it was still heavier than any other weapon she had carried, and her arms gave out after trying to keep it steady. She kept her eye on Balrog's body, her left hand gripped on the butt of her Polar Star, ready to draw and start gunning him down again at a moments notice. However, aside from her laboured breathing and Quote roughly trying to pick himself off the ground, there wasn't a movement or a sound in the chamber.
She waited a moment before calling out to Balrog. They needed him alive, after all. "Balrog, are you alright?" It was an odd question to ask, considering that anyone else would have bitten the dust after taking such a barrage of missiles right to the face. It was impressive Quote was even still conscious.
"Oh, just peachy," he replied – his tone was unexpectedly chipper, as if he wasn't even wounded. Quote thought that maybe keeping up a sarcastic personality was worth the pain to him. "I actually feel better, you know, after being exploded in the face a dozen times after getting sword to the skull."
"Can you stand?"
Balrog waved his stubs and feet in response; neither pair could reach the ground. "Does it look like I can stand? I need…some help."
Quote had his arms poised, ready to continue hacking into Balrog with the sword, although Curly had some other ideas. She placed the missile launcher to the floor and walked casually up to Balrog. "Come on, Quote, put the sword away," she said gently. "Remember, we still need his help to get out of here." He had a feeling that she knew how he felt about Balrog, and that, in his tired and emotional state, he'd love to just gut the thing right there, but nonetheless, she was right. He placed the sword back into its sheath along his left thigh – feeling unfulfilled, since he wanted to practice his swordplay and only really got in one hit – and proceeded to the fallen briefcase with her.
"You take his left arm," she said, already walking around his rather large, blocky form towards his other side. "Hey, big guy," she said motherly when she reached his side, leaning over his bulky frame to look him in his giant eyes. She raised her left hand and extended two of her fingers as far away as she could from his face, hoping to get past his blind spot between his eyes. "How many fingers do you see?"
He took a moment to answer. "Three? No, two. Two fingers."
"Good enough," she replied as she bent over to grip onto something. Quote took his place next to Balrog, reaching down and grabbing onto his left stub. There wasn't anything to grip: it was a perfectly flat slate of some kind of odd, flexible metal. There were no joints or fingers or anything to grab a hold of. He just had to wrap his hands around it was well as he could. He could hear Curly 'umm' and 'err' on the other side, sharing his confusion, before finally coming to a decision on how she was to accomplish pulling Balrog to his feet. "You ready, Quote?" she asked, looking over Balrog's perfectly flat face to his; he nodded in response. "Okay, then. One, two…" Just like with the boulder, they both began pulling as hard as they could the moment Curly yelled 'three'.
Balrog's body lifted off the ground slowly as they heaved him up. Both the robots quickly reached for the gap between him and the ground to push him the rest of the way, when their hands just had too much difficulty gripping his stubs. With some more effort and a few heaves, they managed to push Balrog back onto his feet. His face was scorched from all the detonations, and the bandage over the stab wound from the storehouse was half-disintegrated – he appeared somewhat dazed, and his left eye was half-lidded and, peculiarly, bloodshot.
"Are you okay?" she asked again when he finally stopped rocking about on his feet. He certainly didn't look okay.
"I think so," he replied seriously, waving his arms and kicking his feet as he spoke. "Everything's working fine, and I can see and hear okay. And feel, unfortunately."
There was an awkward pause before Curly asked the obvious question. "Are you going to hold up your end of the deal? We beat you pretty solidly in a fair fight. Do you think you can help us move this boulder now?" Quote had walked over to the placed missile launcher and wrapped the strap back around his right shoulder. It felt almost paper-light compared to how heavy it was with all the missiles, and even then it was only mildly weighty.
"Yeah…" Balrog sighed, more out of exhaustion than anything. "You win. I'll move the rock for you." He turned towards the huge boulder plugged firmly into the wall, waving his stubs up and down as if to loosen them. "Being a bad guy is exhausting work. First I get worked over by some Mimiga with a sword, and then I'm down here getting exploded just a few hours later. I tell ya, if I could say 'no', I would."
"Oh yeah, by the way," Curly asked as she took her position to the right of the boulder. "Where did you get all those missiles from? You didn't have them when I fought you two in the Sand Zone."
"I swiped a design from some warehouse in the middle of the Labyrinth," Balrog replied simply. "I figured, in this shape, I could use whatever edge I could get. It looked pretty unfinished, though, so I had to adapt what I could to myself and hope for the best." Quote recalled one of the Guadi mentioning that he had been burgled of one of his inventions recently, but he wasn't about to raise an objection since they had only just finished fighting. And he was particularly ready to just leave this dumb Labyrinth. "If I had the time and some stuff I keep back in my room, I could have disassembled it and applied it perfectly, but my job here was pretty mish-mashed, so it wasn't as efficient as I would have liked it."
"Hey, you sound like you know what you're talking about. Is, um, 'personal modification' a hobby of yours or something?" She had hoped that finding some topic for them to talk about would be a good start towards repairing their uneven relationship, always eager to make a friend over fighting an enemy – although she couldn't see herself ever forgiving him and Misery for what had happened in the Sand Zone.
"It's more of a necessity than a hobby," he replied. It was odd to Quote, to hear Balrog speak so seriously about a legitimately interesting topic over his 'witty' one-liners and grandiose boasting. But, considering the alternatives, he decided that it was also refreshing as he took his place on the other side of the boulder, to Balrog's left. "I mean, look at me. I'm a giant robot shaped like a bar of soap with little picks for arms. What with how dangerous this island can get, I gotta find a way to keep up somehow.
"Now, guys," he continued as he placed his arms on the boulder. Quote had no idea how he was going to grip it. "Remember, don't tell anyone that I helped you. The Doctor and Misery would melt me down for scrap if they found out."
"Your secret's safe with us," Curly replied happily.
"I'm serious," he continued, sounding very grim. "They would actually do that if they found out. So I'm trusting you two to keep a tight lip, okay?"
"You have our word, Balrog. Neither of us will say a thing about this to anyone."
"Well, as long as we're clear." All three of them were positioned next to the boulder, their grips firm as they readied themselves to try and move it once more.
"Ready?" Curly asked, readjusting her grip one final time. "Push!"
Quote and Curly began pushing the boulder to the side as hard as they could, their palms digging into the stone and their feet sliding over the dirt, just like last time. But suddenly, the boulder was simply picked up and tossed aside, thrown almost comically like a pebble against the opposite wall of the chamber when Balrog put his own muscle into it. It made a horrible crash as it collided with the floor and wall, the vibration sending shivers up the other two while the boulder rolled backward a bit before finally coming to a complete stop in the middle of the floor.
"You guys had trouble moving that?" Balrog mused, noting their stunned disposition and Curly's agape mouth. "I've been beaten to a pulp, and I still bench press things heavier than that each morning." Quote figured it was more likely how Balrog managed to fly just by flapping his arms that gave him so much power, but still, he wasn't at all prepared to see that. Balrog made his way back to the other exit of the chamber, leading back into the Labyrinth.
"Where are you going, Balrog?" Curly asked. "The exit to the Labyrinth is this way."
"Yeah, I know," he said, stopping and turning to face them both. "But I have some maintenance to do first. My plan was to let you two go on ahead and take care of anything that might be a threat for me." Curly laughed as Balrog turned back towards the entrance to the chamber. "Now remember. Don't tell a soul that I helped you," he grumbled as he walked past them both.
"We won't!" Curly shouted cheerfully as Balrog left the chamber through the hole he made when he entered, and made another of his powerful leaps right out of sight. "You know, I don't think he's that bad of a guy." Quote turned to face her again, surprised to hear her say that. "I believe him when he says that he doesn't have a choice when it comes to what he can and can't do. I bet he's just a big softie without that leash he says he and Misery are tied to." Quote furrowed his brow; he wasn't totally convinced, and still believed that Balrog was who he was because that's who he was. "I know what he's done to me, and I can only guess what he's done to you, but c'mon Quote, if he were really that bad, he wouldn't have helped us move the boulder, right?" He had to concede that point, but he still had his reservations. "Well, we can talk about it some other time. For now, let's just get out of here."