To Save Us All
Chapter 11~
When 9 reached the base of the half-demolished building that was remarkably still standing, defying the laws of physics, he just stood still, gazing at it sadly.
He knew he should'nt be out here just looking at it, but 9 could'nt help it. He could'nt help knowing something important was in there, something so important his life would change. But his life had been changing. It had been changing ever since he had been created here. This is where is started, could this be where it ended?
He snapped out of his trance as a strong gust of wind came upon him, so strong it almost made him fall over. He regained his balance and started climbing the rubble that covered the bottom of the staircase that wound around the hardly-standing building, reaching the second floor.
9 pulled his way up the pile of concrete slabs that had been crumbled by the machines, wincing as he realized that he did'nt remember the pile of rubble being so big. Maybe it was only because he had been going down instead of up, and his aim was to find 2, not how big the rubble pile beneath him was.
9 stopped at the start of the real stairs, his gaze starting from the first step and slowly trailing it's way to the second floor, his destination. He furrowed his eyebrows, sighed quietly, letting his complaints go, and started the climb.
Ten minutes, an exhausted rest, and a breif realization he needed to get in better shape later, 9 found himself on the second floor of the Scientists home.
The First Room.
9 felt a swell of pride grow inside of him- he had made it to the top! He looked around him, eager to explore what he had'nt had the time to when he had heard the Scientist last words, captured in the box that still lay near the decaying form of his creator.
His creator.
9 found himself staring at his Scientist, a sick feeling of dread and realization that this was a human body- decaying flesh just barely holding in the bones of what was once a healthy, full-of-life person together. He had no more muscle- it was all skin and bones- his skin being white and waxy, and... eerily fragile. 9 had the impression that his skin must be paper thin, and if he were to try and touch his molded copper hand to his creator, the dead and fragile skin would rip under the pressure. 9 surpressed a shudder and a feeling of dread.
He looked around, anywhere but at the decaying body of the human that he hardly belived was still his Scientist. His optics landed on the desk he was "born" on, after scanning the room's many books and glass experamenting flasks and folders that lined the shelves on what was left of the walls. Piles upon piles of stored documents and files and inventions lay in messy unorganized heaps on the window side of the desk. 9 was sure there was more to see when he reached the top of the desk- if he could.
Jumping down from the desk was one thing- climbing up it's vertical surface was another. He walked over to it, to examine any other way he could get to the top, hopefully to answers. He saw the desk was'nt solid, it had a hollow belly, making 9 wonder how the desk could hold up the huge contraption that he had been attached to before he woke. The desk was only four legs and a slab of porportioned wood, how could it not collapse into itself as 9 watched it?
Then 9 saw the stairs. It looked just like the set 9 remembered seeing at G's home, the set that had lead under the tunnels, made for stitchpunks.
The staircase did'nt lead directly to the desk, it lead to another, topped with even more books, a few that lay open, spilling their information and begging for someone to come read them, to learn something. 9 saw the set was rusty, due to it's positioning: directly under a hole in the roof. Rain must have gotten in before all life ceased to exist, since 9 had come back to a time when water was'nt alive. Nothing was.
With further examination of the staircase, 9 saw the reason they did'nt go directly up to the desk. They did'nt need to, there was a wooden ruler positioned so the two desks could be connected, and curious stitchpunks could dash from one desk to another. 9 suddenly made a connection, and he examined the room more closely to test his hypothesis. Sure enough, little rulers had been placed all along the room, connecting desks and shelves to each other.
The Scientist had "stitchpunked" his home, just like "Mike" had to his for G's group. 9 smiled, it was like a playground, the twins must've had much fun when they were'nt playing around or cataloging, or being cute.
He suddenly thought of the twins, and 7, and the others. Were they all safe? Had G reached his family in time? Had 5 managed to not let anyone escape for the night? Was 7 keeping an extra close optic for the twins? He was sure 7 was fulfilling her duty, because she was 7, and she would'nt let anything happen. But what about the others? 9 had so much to think about right now, all he could do was sit down right where he was and rest while his head swam with uncontrollable thoughts and worries. He had so much responsibility...
After a few minutes of rest, he decided he had to stop worrying and start moving- or his worries will come true, nothing having been discovered only because he was worried about not discovering anything.
He looked to the small stair case, they looked rusted over and well-worn, but 9 still wanted to try climbing them, it was in his nature. He walked over to the set and put his right foot cautiously on the first step, not putting too much pressure just yet. He gulped, though there was nothing to swallow, and he slowly leaned in his weight on the first step, willing it to hold. He heard a groaning sound, and for a fateful second the entire set swayed dangerously, and 9 held up his hands, unable to word his pleas for the only way up the desk not to topple over. As it swayed, his hands tried to push it, as if the staircase would listen to him if he demonstrated his pleas physically. When the staircase swayed toward him, he held up his arms and hands, like a rider controlling his scared horse. When the staircase swayed away from him, he shook his head and willed it to stop, like he was trying to make as little noise as possible while doing this and the staircase toppling would only ruin everything.
But it never toppled. Probabaly because it was bolted to the floor. Of course 9 had'nt realized this until after the whole thing was over and done with...
And then it stopped. 9 let out the breath he had been holding. He did'nt need to breath, really, so he did'nt have to hold any "breath", but it was merely an instinct, so he and the stitchpunks continued to do it, like it gave them a feeling of being human, rather than machine.
9 knew there was no way up to the desk beside this heavily rusted staircase, so he had no choice but to try again. He placed his foot of the first step again, and gently sprung himself onto the next one, to see if it could hold his weight, already knowing the positioning mattered. The set of steps, much too small for a human to step on, swayed, as 9 had expected, but it did'nt collapse or break with his added weight.
The set of stairs continued to sway only a moment more, until stopping, as if agreeing with 9 that he should climb up now. 9 smiled and began to cautiously move up the stairs, only the slightest wobble at his shift in wieght. He was getting the hang of this, all you needed to remember was that this thing would'nt topple if you administered your weight evenly. In other words, you had to be careful. Don't run up these stairs.
When he reached the top, he smiled triumphantly and took a look around him, the room he and the others had been made in, and made alive in. It was sort of peaceful, the sun flitering gently through the shutters that acted as the window and had closed again. Probably due to the wind. Even if the room was disorganized, papers and books and instruments piled everywhere in sometimes unidentifiable heaps, 9 felt an affection for it. It was is home after all.
Welcome home, he thought to himself.
Behind the desk where the shelves of flasks, each one a different size and seeming to have a different purpose, some even having been twisted in weird forms, perhaps because of whatever liquids the Scientist had experamented with before the BRAIN had even been thought of. Books lay in between the flasks every once and a while as well, leaning gently on the heavier flass as if as old and tired as their pages must be. Some had writing 9 could hardly understand on the spine, labeling what the book was about, but 9 did'nt have too much time and he wanted to take in what he thought were more important things than old books.
And again he stopped in his tracks.
6. He had underestimated 6. He knew what had happened because of that mistake... and here he was doing it again. This time with the book. He turned to face it, having stopped on his heel, and took the little time that he thought was so precious to actually read what it said. Only now he realized that there were no words -not words he could read, however- on the spine of the book.
They were the talismans symbols.
9 rushed over to the book to get a better look at what he had almost missed entirely, due to almost repeating his one of his mistakes.
It would indeed have been unfortunate if 9 had missed this find. The leather book had no writing 9 could read on the spine, but he could definately identify the shapes.
They were talisman symbols.
9 instinctively opened himself and tried to search for the talisman, only to be reminded the BRAIN still had it. The book was all he had for clues.
He carefully pulled out the book, noticing how fragile and worn it was. It was'nt as heavy as he would imagine, but that was'nt the mystery he intended to solve here. After making sure he had the book safely on the desk, 9 moved to open it.
And then he noticed the writing he could read.
On the front cover of this mysterious treasure, 9 saw the word "June" typed neatly into the leather, underneath a chart of the talisman symbols.
"August?" 9 repeated outloud, as if hearing the word might bring back some memory he had looked over. "August... What happened in August?"
Nothing came to his mind, so he turned the page, pulling the cover gently over so the inner pages could be exposed. What he saw amazed him. Sketches of the other stitckpunks filled the pages, along with descriptions of them, and notes of what was going on at the time.
The first page started out with a drawing of 1. Just a few sketches of his joints, feet, and body designs, but that did'nt stop 9 from examining. He looked the paper up and down before reading the writing.
In the text on the next page, the Scientist kept mentioning how drained he was. 9 felt sorry for the man, he felt so much guilt he was willing to kill himself to make up for it.
But 9 was like that too.
9 looked at his hands in shame, though he was'nt sure why he felt it in the first place.
He was just about to turn the page when he saw it: the scribble in the upper corner of the page.
And it was'nt the Scientists writing.
It was 6's.
Why would 6 write something on the corner of the Scientists notebook? When had he done this?
And what did it say?
9 leaned in as far as he could go without throwing his balance off, in attempts to read to tiny writing on the corner of the page.
It said...
"To Protect Us?" said 9 out loud, as if his question could be answered that way. "How could 6 know this?"
9 took a moment to really think about 6. This had to mean something. He was on to something big, here. It was always big when 6 was involved. If only he knew how to explain his visions! If only, if only...
So what could this mean?... Where there more tiny messages on any other pages? 9 eagerly turned the page, trying to be as gentle as his curiosity allowed.
Sure enough, sketches of 2 were on the next page, and another... yes! Another message from 6! And this one said... again! Yes! It said...
"To Inspire Us." said 9 thoughtfully, thinking of 2 and how he could inspire them. He definately inspired 5, but 'us'...
9 heard a click as everything came together. 6. The messages. The 'Us' mentioned in all of them. He fully understood.
He began to flip through the pages, increasingly agressive, as he saw that he could be right. Each sketch page had a message scrawled at the top. And each sketch page was drawn by 6. 6 knew something. And 9 thought he knew what. he started pacing around the book, smiling and clsping his hands together, trying to focuse his thoughts.
Originally, 9 thought the "Us" was the stitchpunks. 1-9, A-H. Both of them. They were the "Us", all of them. But 9 had that part all wrong. It was what 6 wrote that made him understand it all.
"To Protect Us" was for 1. 1... 1 had saved 9! He had protected "Us"!
And 2! He had "To Inspire Us", and he had inspired 9 to get them to fight the machines- what they were made for! Not hiding! They were made to restore life by uniting with each other and overcoming the machine- not just hiding and waiting until it killed off every one of them!
And the twins! They had told 9 what they collected for years, and made a short projection of it! They were the ones who defined and taught him .
5 had been "To Guide Us"... and he guided 9 through the wasteland! 9! He had guided 9! "Us"!
9 was pacing so fast, you might as well call it running.
6 was leading him to this conclusion and 7 was defending him and 8 had guarded him, and 9-
9...
So if he was right about this... What was his true role?
He could'nt save... himself.
A:N:
yes... So if u don't understand. I made the "Us", as seen in all the catchy catch phrases for the character posters.
1~To Protect Us
2~To Inspire Us
3~To Define Us
4~To teach us
5~To Guide Us
6~To Lead Us
7~To Defend Us
8~To Guard Us
9~To Save Us (hence the title ppl)
Ok, so now that I feel like a braggin smart ass now that i've named something that I'm sure everyone already knows, here's what we found out in this chapter in case u did'nt get it.
9=US. That's it. That's all we learned. And now he's trying to figure out what his true role is, because u can't save urself... Or can u?... And he still needs to get the talisman... guess. ^^ WoW... this is getting increasingly fun to write(type)!!!
PLEASE COMMENT MAI READAHS!!!