We witnessed one-half of the previous chapter Bobert doing business with Mrs. Jotunheim. Let's check out the chapter before returning to the current events.
Chapter #17 ~ The Observation
Inside another section of the neighborhood...
In an almost untouched section of the city, Larry hurriedly towards his house in search of safety, taking cover in the bushes to avoid being spotted by infected pursuers. Exhausted, he leaned against the porch, gasping for breath, allowing himself a moment to recover.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, a result of the intense running. The oppressive heat that had overwhelmed him began to subside as he traversed the neighborhood in his regular clothes. Placing his hands on his knees, Larry turned his head, observing the scene before him.
Despite his attempts to escape with the help of the police, Larry heavily sighed that he had managed to flee from the ongoing chaos in the background. However, he reminded himself that the situation he found himself in was far from resolved.
'Man, that was a long run... Thank the cops for giving me a chance to escape.' He thought, trying to rejuvenate his breathing after resting for a few seconds. So glad those perverted freaks didn't distinguish me in the shrubs. It sucks that my ice cream truck collided with the traffic jam when trying to escape, but even if I did, my ass is grass regardless.
Larry wasted no time as the cashier took a brief break. He swiftly retrieved his keys and unlocked his door, eager to start preparing for his escape. Without hesitation, he began organizing his supplies, pulling out a large bag and gathering necessary items from his condiment cabinet and storage containers.
The worker hurriedly moved through the house, coming to a halt in the hallway and opening a series of doors. To his surprise, each room was empty except for a few missing belongings. Among these rooms was the master bedroom, adorned with a fusion of dark grey, white, and pink hues on the walls, shelves, a lamp, a desk, and a bookcase.
A pink-colored chamber is present with a bed, multiple pairs of shoes missing, a backpack, photographs, sketches, and artworks affixed to the wall, and a portrait of the laborer, Karen's offspring, and her sibling.
The final room is identical to the previous room, except adorned with a magenta hue and grey swirls, accompanied by rhythmic musical beats. The eldest individual is shorter than Larry and maintains a lighter shade of pink. She's dressed in a dark blue shirt and hat.
On the other hand, the youngest sibling is slightly shorter than her sister, donning a darker shade of pink and a light green dress. Interestingly, she bears a striking resemblance to the cashier, particularly in terms of facial features.
As Larry glanced around, he noticed footprints scattered across the floor, prompting him to follow their trail. Eventually, his curiosity led him to the garage, where he opened the door. Inside, he spotted his original black car parked alongside a space.
After closing the door, Larry advanced to the kitchen, only to discover a small note attached to the fridge. Intrigued, he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head as he retrieved the letter from the magnet. With anticipation, Larry directed his gaze downwards and began to read the message.
'Dear Lawrence, if you received this note from the refrigerator, it means the girls and I have left. We knew about the infestation nearby, so we managed to collect everything and headed to the sanctuary. I figured this would happen after watching the news. Also, I left out some weapons and first aid supplies for you in case you wanted to leave instantly. So I pray you'll reach us and not get infected by those hooligans. Karen.'
Upon finishing the reading, the cashier's arm fell to the ground, his head tilted upwards, and he gently touched his chest as he closed his eyes and knelt down. A deep sigh escaped his lips before he reopened his eyes, stood up, and returned to the room. Lawrence meticulously packed various precious items into the bag Karen had mentioned, swiftly adding appropriate clothing.
Lastly, Larry extended his arm to grab the photograph above him, capturing the moment of himself, Karen, and their children.
Swiftly, he sealed the bag shut and hurriedly made his way towards his nearby vehicle, meticulously arranging his packed pouch onto the car seat. As the worker secured his house door, a sudden noise caught his attention, causing his heart to race and his instincts to kick in. Reacting swiftly, he swiftly retrieved his firearm and defense baseball bat, his body trembling with adrenaline.
Larry's eyes darted from left to right, his gaze fixed on the source of the disturbance. With each passing moment, his pupils constricted, intensifying his focus as he detected a faint trembling sound nearby.
Larry simultaneously rushed inside the car, placed his bag inside and ignited the engine. Suddenly, a series of rumbling noises could be heard in the distance, causing him to turn around. From the bushes emerged infected creatures from the shadows.
A horde of Richwood College students appeared from the shadows and bushes, with infamous slime oozing from their mouths. Larry was taken aback by the sight of them, recognizing them from the attack earlier, and his world went dark as he screamed.
He turned back to the wheel, pressed down on the pedal, and steered his car to the right. As he drove away, the infected students chased after him, rushing towards him as they each tried to grab the polygon man's car. As he's getting skillfully dialed his smartphone and activated the speaker function, ensuring a hands-free conversation while driving.
'Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up!' His phone has rung for a few seconds; only to receive no call from the police force. Unfortunately, the students manage dot reach up the the vehicle, and tried to jump onto it.
'Great, no calls from the military! So I have to deal with the same people who damaged my truck! Larry sighed as his face contorted with distress as he grappled with the conflict. Just as he attempted to switch lanes, a group of students suddenly boarded his vehicle, catching him off guard and prompting a startled scream to escape his lips. As the students clambered into the automobile, he quickly grabbed the pistol he had left on the seat and attempted to shake the students off.
As the chaos ensued, a few students resorted to using their claws to try and break through the windows. In response, Larry gritted his teeth, lowered the windows, aimed his weapon at their limbs, and fired, causing the bullet to pierce through their skin and leaving a trail of mixed blood and virus in its wake.
The force of the gunfire caused some of the students to lose their grip and fall off the vehicle, adding to the already tense situation. In his desperate attempt to fend them off, he swung his arm forcefully, using the defense bat as a weapon. The sound of the bat connecting with their limbs echoed through the air, causing them to wince in pain.
With each swing swung, he aimed to protect himself, striking with all his might. The intense determination on his face showed how far he was willing to go to defend himself. Some infected fell from the ground, whereas others managed to avoid the harm and attempted to apprehend him.
Lawrence attempted to concentrate on the terrain, but the diseased beings obstructed his way, compelling him to glance out the window and shoot them down. However, he was careful to avoid the slime as they tumbled down. As they did, the virus sludge almost entirely covered the windshield, and he grunted in anticipation.
The driver surveyed his surroundings, panic mounting as he witnessed the chaos unfolding around him. The air was thick with tension, and infected beings roamed the streets. Spotting a water hose in the distance, a surge of hope shot through him.
Without hesitation, he deftly maneuvered his vehicle towards the sidewalk. Parking adjacent to the house, he leaped out, urgency guiding his every move. The driver's hands closed around the hose, his fingers gripping it firmly as he recognized its potential as a tool to cleanse the virus that slithered malevolently on the ground.
Time was of the essence, and with a determined resolve, he prepared to unleash the cleansing power of water against the encroaching threat. The force of the water staggered them, buying Larry precious seconds. Seizing the opportunity, he swung his defense bat, delivering powerful blows to fend off the disoriented assailants.
The combination of water-based defense and well-timed strikes became Larry's makeshift survival strategy in this post-apocalyptic world, where every encounter with the infected was a battle for survival.
In the desperate struggle against the encroaching infected, Larry's quick thinking proved to be the saving grace. As he attempted to turn off the hose, the urgency of the situation heightened, the infected closing in with relentless speed, their insatiable appetite driving them forward.
Larry's gaze darted downward to the hose. Amidst the chaos, a brilliant idea materialized. Without hesitation, he deftly manipulated his finger, redirecting the stream of spring water toward the approaching horde. The powerful jet hit its mark, temporarily blinding their eyes and drenching their clothes, slowing their advance.
With a palpable sense of accomplishment, Larry swiftly shut off the hose, the abrupt silence contrasting sharply with the recent frenzy. The infected, now disoriented and soaked, stumbled in confusion, providing a fleeting window of opportunity. Seizing the moment, Larry wasted no time and hastened to his vehicle.
The engine roared to life as he made an escape from the scene, leaving the drenched and bewildered infected behind in his rearview mirror. The echoes of his improvised defense lingered in the air as he raced to safety, a testament to resourcefulness in the face of a relentless and hungry threat.
"That's for destroying my truck!" Larry shouted with gritted teeth, a mix of anger and determination in his vocals. As he reloaded his gun, he moved swiftly back to the driver's seat, his eyes fixed on the pursuing horde of infected students.
With a surge of adrenaline, he accelerated away, leaving the disoriented and soaked creatures in his wake. However, the relentless pursuit continued, the infected shaking off the water and closing the distance with eerie determination.
The engine's roar matched the pounding of Larry's heart as he navigated through the desolate streets, each turn and acceleration a desperate bid to outpace the relentless threat that pursued him.
As Larry accelerated, a relentless horde of infected individuals unleashed a barrage of projectiles toward his fleeing car. Suddenly, numerous pillars forcefully emerged from the windows of nearby houses, creating cracks in the structure.
Despite the chaos, he desperately tried to maintain his composure and concentrate on the road ahead. Regrettably, a few projectiles hit the wheels, resulting in explosive destruction.
The unexpected jolt caused Larry to stumble, and as he regained his balance, sparks of electric fire erupted from beneath the vehicle. He struggled to control the automobile as his jaw dropped in disbelief. Swerving left and right, unable to steer, fiery marks appeared on the street, adding to the chaos.
Larry left with no alternative, turned off the engine, retrieved the keys, grabbed his bag, and hastily exited the vehicle.
As the car drove off, stumbling and flipping over the road, it collided with the ground. Fragments of the automobile disintegrated, the remaining wheels ablaze, and oil leaking out ignited a fire that caused it to explode. Larry stood up from the ground and surveyed the wreckage of his car, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He turned to see a group of infected college girls and frat boys hurrying towards him.
Each girl had unique features, such as ponytails and long hair. Two girls had blonde hair, another girl with raven hair, and finally, a girl with fuzzy hair. The men adorned in jackets bearing the label 'Richwood' on their backs showcased their individuality through diverse hairstyles.
Some sported lustrous blonde locks, boasted sleek black hair, and a few embraced trendy dreadlocks. Some preferred a carefree and tousled look, while others inherited distinguished goatees, adding a touch of sophistication to their overall appearance.
Larry's face contorted with anger as he ran away from the group. They chased after him, and he aimed his firearm menacingly toward the infected students. His teeth clenched tightly together, displaying sheer determination.
Larry made several abrupt halts, forcefully striking their shoulders, causing a slight sensation of pain for some while others stumbled. Regrettably, despite being hit, numerous individuals managed to recuperate and continued their relentless pursuit.
The chase continued through the chaos-ridden streets, each turn and dodge a desperate bid for survival in the face of an unrelenting and diverse infected horde.
With beads of sweat forming on his forehead, Lawrence quickened his pace as the group of enthusiastic students closed in on him. The persistent chants for ice cream and the playful banter from the frat boys echoed through the air.
"Come on, man, don't be such a buzzkill! We want some ice cream!" One of the students called out, a mischievous grin on his face.
Ignoring the pleas, the laborer continued to move away, glancing over his shoulder with a blend of fear and frustration. The girl who had sensually licked her lips earlier now laughed, her voice carrying a teasing tone.
"Just a little treat won't hurt anyone, will it?" She said, winking at her friends.
"Stay away from me, you're sickos!" Gasping for breath, the laborer shrieked while increasing his pace, desperately trying to distance himself from the approaching students.
Out of nowhere, an explosion erupted, hurling the group away from the worker. Startled, the worker spun around, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head in confusion, desperately searching for the blast's origin. His heart raced as he scanned the surroundings, left and right, vigilant for any signs of danger.
Abruptly, a noise echoed nearby, drawing closer. Larry gazed skyward in astonishment as Bobert and Mrs. Jotunheim soared and descended rapidly.
Larry's breath caught, a smile lighting up his face. Without hesitation, he swiftly positioned himself behind the descending figures, crouching low to observe the robot with its cannon and the witch wielding her staff.
His heart pounded, sweat beads forming and trickling down his forehead. With a quizzical expression, he arched an eyebrow, the smile fading from his face.
"Only you guys?! I thought the army was coming! Larry screamed.
"Calm yourself, Lawrence. I have requested assistance, and we will transport you to safety with utmost haste," Mrs. Jotunheim assured as the infected chased after the two.
"Okay, but watch out!" Larry cried as he pointed his finger at the upcoming infected students.
Bobert skillfully aimed and elevated his cannon. With precision, the robot launched a relentless barrage that decimated each opponent. Concurrently, the infected students attempting to approach the robot faced calculated torso blasts, skillfully sparing their clothing from complete obliteration. Some stumbled to the ground, while others tumbled into nearby backyards. Despite the setback, they swiftly recovered and resumed their charge toward the mech.
The tension in the atmosphere was palpable as the infected students, who were once menacing but now elusive, faced off against Bobert's cannon. Despite their frustration, they quickly adapted to the new resistance and began to grab nearby objects with otherworldly determination. They hurled these objects at the mechanical sentinel.
Some infected students, driven by an unearthly force, led them to grab garden tools scattered around the street. Armed with shovels and rakes, they charged at Bobert, their movements guided by an unseen power. Bobert's sensors worked overtime as he dodged the incoming projectiles and skillfully deflected the garden tools.
Bobert exerted maximum effort to avoid getting too close to the infected or the slimy substance on the ground. Despite their spectral attacks, the infected students found themselves unable to overcome the mechanical agility of the sentinel.
However, they refused to give up and intensified their assault, their otherworldly cries echoing across the street. The once-innocuous garden tools had become weapons of ghostly retribution, but Bobert remained resilient and continued his relentless barrage, adapting his strategy to counter the spectral onslaught.
At the same time, Mrs. Jotunheim summoned a protective barrier around herself and Larry, shielding him from the approaching infected individuals as they neared the chaotic scene. Utilizing her mystical abilities, she swiftly repaired the scratches on Larry's attire before shifting her focus to his vehicle.
The witch effortlessly lifted the car and cast a powerful spell, restoring its appearance and rectifying all the damages. Once the transformation was complete, she carefully set the car back on the street. Larry, visibly relieved, quickly pursued it, inserting his keys into the ignition and starting the engine. As the car came to life with a roar, Mrs. Jotunheim's shield dissipated, momentarily exposing them to the chaos surrounding them.
In the aftermath of these events, Mrs. Jotunheim conjured a portal, revealing a lively highway with numerous vehicles in motion. A smile lit up Larry's face as he absorbed the bustling scene. The car accelerated toward the portal after Larry pressed his foot on the pedal. Leaning out, he shouted his gratitude at the witch and the robot.
"Thank you!" Lawrence screamed, refocusing on the road with military trucks nearby as Mrs. Jotunheim closed the portal.
Meanwhile, Bobert unleashed another barrage on additional infected adversaries, who quickly regained their strength. He maintained a focused gaze, anticipating the witch's signal. As soon as she whistled, he took flight upon seeing her bring out her broom.
The two soared away, leaving the dumbfounded and groaning infected students behind. Sensing further destruction elsewhere, they hurried toward the source. In the air, Bobert retracted the cannon in his arm as he flew close to the witch.
"Our second task with Lawrence is complete," Bobert announced.
"Very well. Now that Larry's out of the way, let's proceed to set up the generators," Mrs. Jotunheim responded.
"Of course. On another note, I humbly request permission to investigate the nature of this mysterious ooze once the generators and the security system are operational," Bobert inquired, seeking approval from his mother.
"I assume you're proposing a scouting mission?" Mrs. Jotunheim questioned, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes, Mrs. Jotunheim. It's evident that the evacuation focused on resisting an attack from an unknown source from the unidentified being. I suggest conducting a constructive analysis of this phenomenon in case the situation deteriorates, pending your permission," Bobert explained.
"Hmm... I haven't received updates from the reconnaissance team yet, so your insights could prove valuable. Alright. Once we finalize the operation, you can explore the results further. However, I advise maintaining a safe distance to ensure you don't put yourself at risk, harm or infection, Bobert."
"I'll incorporate that into my database, ma'am," Bobert acknowledged.
The outskirts of the town held its breath, wrapped in an uneasy calm as Mrs. Jotunheim and Bobert embarked on the meticulous task of reviving generators scattered like sentinels on the fringes. The endeavor unfolded as a choreographed dance, blending technological finesse with mystical prowess. This fusion echoed with purpose beneath the dim glow of the street lamps.
"The first generator is operational. Moving to the next one," Bobert announced upon completing his task.
"Excellent, Bobert. Keep up the pace. We need them all online," Mrs. Jotunheim declared, examining the unfolding operation through a blueprint given by the nearby military.
Bobert, the mechanical artisan, moved with a calculated efficiency. His metallic fingers delicately manipulated the intricate components of each generator, coaxing life back into their dormant forms. Yet, as he approached a particularly worn-out generator, a sudden surge of energy crackled through the air, prompting him to jerk back instinctively.
"Error detected! The energy surge was unexpected," Bobert shouted.
"Ah, Bobert, these generators are older models. They require a bit more finesse. Let me show you," Mrs. Jotunheim offered.
Stepping forward, her enchanted staff radiating a gentle glow, Mrs. Jotunheim chanted an incantation with fluid and precise movements. The mystical energy flowed from her baton into the generator, guiding Bobert through the delicate process.
"You see, Bobert. It's not just about the physical components. You attune the magic within, coaxing it to harmonize with the machinery. Like so," Mrs. Jotunheim responded.
Bobert observed as Mrs. Jotunheim expertly balanced the mystical and mechanical aspects, taming the unruly surge of energy. Gradually, the generator responded, emitting a steady hum of reawakening power.
"Ah, I see. It requires a more delicate touch. Thank you for the guidance, Mrs. Jotunheim," Bobert nodded.
"You're welcome, Bobert. And thank the inventors for showing me a few things. It's a unique synergy, But once you get the hang of it, you'll find it fascinating. Now, let's continue. We have more to cover," Mrs. Jotunheim conveyed.
Together, the duo resumed their intricate dance between magic and machinery. The outskirts of the town gradually came alive with the hum of rejuvenated generators. The night unfolded with each generator's successful revival, a testament to the harmonious collaboration between the advanced technology of Bobert and the ancient mysticism wielded by Mrs. Jotunheim.
As their collaborative effort progressed, Mrs. Jotunheim's enchanted phone buzzed with the urgency of incoming calls from General Callahan. Each conversation added layers to the complexity of their mission, a staccato rhythm of commands and updates.
"Mrs. Jotunheim, what's the status of those generators?" General Callahan's voice resonated through the phone.
"We're making progress, General. Bobert is adeptly handling the technical aspects, and I'm reinforcing the security spells. We'll have the generators fully operational soon," Mrs. Jotunheim assured her words carrying the weight of determination.
"Good. Time is of the essence. The reconnaissance team is still unaccounted for, and we need those defenses up. Keep me informed," General Callahan directed, the urgency palpable.
Returning to the generator, Mrs. Jotunheim and Bobert synchronized their efforts, the ebb and flow of magic and mechanics converging seamlessly. The hum of reawakening generators echoed through the quiet streets as the duo crafted a shield against the unknown threat looming over the town.
Amid their endeavors, Mrs. Jotunheim received another call from General Callahan.
"Mrs. Jotunheim, we're taking control of the areas you're securing. Military personnel will be on-site shortly. Once the operation is complete, we'll handle the defense from there."
Acknowledging the orders, Mrs. Jotunheim relayed the information to Bobert. With the generators fully patched up and the security system intricately calibrated, the duo stepped back, witnessing the military's arrival to take over the fortified areas.
With military personnel assuming control, Mrs. Jotunheim and Bobert watched the transition unfold seamlessly, hidden in the shadows. General Callahan's voice crackled through the phone once again.
"Well done, both of you. We'll take it from here. Stay vigilant, and be ready for further instructions."
With that, the military presence took hold, and Mrs. Jotunheim and Bobert faded into the background, their duties fulfilled. The town's outskirts, once vulnerable, were now under the vigilant watch of both mystical and mechanical guardians, standing united against the enigmatic threat that lingered in the event.
Amid the roaring wind, Bobret's metallic voice cut through the air, addressing Mrs. Jotunheim as they soared through the sky.
"Mrs. Jotunheim, I'm initiating the reconnaissance mission now. We need to gather intel before we proceed."
"Excellent, Bobert. Remember to be cautious in your task. Meanwhile, I'll locate any remaining escapees with the magicians and reunite them. Then, I'll head to Mom-Unit to check if the upgrades are ready." Mrs. Jotunheim, her witch's hat firmly secured against the gusts, responded with assurance.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Bobret veered off to another part of the neighborhood. Mrs. Jotunheim continued her flight, assisting more escapees while reaching for her radio.
"Mom-Unit, this is Mrs. Jotunheim. Bobert and I have completed our objectives, and he has initiated a reconnaissance mission. Any updates on the status of our upgrades?"
A crackling response echoed through the radio.
"Mrs. Jotunheim, the upgrades are in progress. I'll keep you informed. And if Bobert's online, advise him to stay vigilant and ensure his safety."
"No need to worry too much. I've already informed." Mrs. Jotunheim reassured.
In the boundless skies, the youthful mech danced through the air with grace and purpose. High above, his robotic gaze caught sight of troopers engaged in reconnaissance work below. An enigmatic question mark flickered on his visor, only to return to its usual state. He witnessed the militia had learned from past events, adopting a similar strategy. Bobert steered toward a towering building, ready to stand sentinel. As he touched down, his mechanical eyes meticulously surveyed the sprawling megalopolis.
From his vantage point, the android witnessed civilians engaging in voracious procreation and assaulting one another. A wave of revulsion washed over him, distorting his features. The remnants of police cars, military vehicles, and weapons strewn across the avenue told a tale of a failed struggle between patrols and rangers, a haunting reminder of a past school disaster. Despite his disdain for the unsettling scene, Bobert adjusted his sonar to scrutinize the infectious virus clinging to their skin.
The substance mirrored the original Joy Virus, a fact not lost on the mechanized observer. Despite his attempts to identify the specific virus in his database, the results remained elusive. A puzzled expression materialized on his optic. However, curiosity about the sludge's origin overpowered him. Its only apparent purpose was to plunge victims into a state of relentless licentiousness.
"Hmm... this infectious bacteria, with a DNA structure identical to an amoeba and the previous infestation, induces rampant sexual activity akin to Carrie's entanglement. Research at the school library is imperative to grasp the intricacies of this strain," Bobert concluded as icons appeared on his visor, collecting the DNA sample among known diseases. He contemplated the potential consequences of documenting his findings.
Before departing the building, the young mech spotted familiar faces in the distance using his sonar. Classmates and their families, infected and recovering from an explosion, came into view. Consideration filled the android as he realized that one recording might be enough to understand the mysterious strain, but it also meant witnessing their departure. Below, noises hinted at the infected relocating within the establishment, prompting Bobert to record hastily and blast his afterburners.
Stunned by the unfolding events, Bobert marveled at the mysterious advancements in his classmates' anatomy.
"What's this? My classmates' anatomy mysteriously advanced?" he mused, recording the bizarre transformation.
As he continued, the mech noticed Gumball's absence on the radar. The Wattersons were known for causing incidents in the megalopolis, and Bobert, no stranger to malfunctions, wondered about his friend's fate. Spotting the events ahead of him, he strategically positioned himself away from the infected's gaze, allowing him to record without being seen.
"Interesting. The hosts have recovered and undergone expected anatomical changes. My classmates and teacher have been in this territory and survived," Bobert observed, relief evident in his words. "But my task takes precedence; I must relocate before attracting attention."
With the conclusion of his camera recording, the mechanized observer noted the hosts' movement and swiftly left the district, soaring toward the school on thrusters.
At the school grounds...
With the grace of a celestial dancer, the young mechanical marvel approached the local school, halting in the heart of the sidewalk. A rapid scan confirmed the fortress-like security measures surrounding the building. His optic sensors flickered to life as he meticulously sought an entry point among the sealed doors, his focus unyielding.
Abruptly, a signal danced across his radar, threatening to distract him. With unwavering determination, he swiftly cut it off. Unwilling to lose focus on the task.
The android, christened Bobert, effortlessly ascended toward the towering structure, a ballet in metal and circuitry, hovering above the ground with a grace that belied his purpose. Pausing before the unlocked classroom door, he surveyed the area, confirming the absence of vigilant hallway cameras.
An undercurrent of anxiety coursed through the automaton as he contemplated the impending infiltration of the library for research, a mission fraught with the discomfort of breaking into an empty school. Yet, Bobert's resolve remained unshaken, his sights set on the archives and the mysteries they held.
"Hmm... a seamless entry into the classroom is essential," he calculated, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. Identifying an air vent on the ceiling, he cast aside hesitation and entered the labyrinthine ventilation system, determined to find a path to the coveted library.
Peering through openings in the mechanical arteries of the building, Bobert identified various locations—gym, boys' locker room, and Principal Brown's workroom. Despite finding entry points, none guided him to the hallowed library.
"Finding the library opening is proving more challenging than anticipated," he muttered, a quiet vow against discouragement echoing through the metal confines of his being.
As he continues, Bobert's optic sensors eventually fixed on a distant opening, leading to a haven of knowledge—aisles of books and computers. Satisfied, he navigated to the archives, poised for the impending research.
Before immersing himself in the pursuit of knowledge, Bobert scrutinized the surroundings for cameras. The absence of electronic guardians heightened his analytical focus, turning joy into a steely resolve.
"I see the school library is equipped with a security system," Bobert thought. "A note for later, but for now, the priority is the search for relevant books."
As he maneuvers around the library shelves, the mech hunted for microorganism-related tomes, evading the watchful eyes of motion detectors. A creative solution emerged as he crafted a makeshift cover from cardboard and tape, enabling access to the forbidden knowledge below without triggering alarms.
"Excellent. Now I can glean information without arousing the system," the mech affirmed, delving into textbooks on microorganisms. Yet, the elusive connection between the mysterious strain and available information persisted.
Comparing the strain with the original Joy Virus, Bobert uncovered striking similarities, even in their digital signatures. His curiosity piqued, he stumbled upon a mysterious glowing book, its presence illuminated by a seven-pointed star and hearts circling like a protective ring—a celestial enigma in the town's rainbow hues.
As he scanned further, the mech's initial interest evolved into a question mark on his optic, sparking a search through his database. Finding no familiarity, he examined the edges, discovering a stack of pages akin to a book.
"This data is already causing curiosity in my processors," Bobert muttered, realizing the gravity of the situation.
As he prepared to unveil the mysterious object, external noises shattered the silence, signaling the presence of ominous entities outside. With urgency, Bobert carefully secured the enigmatic book within himself, exited the library, and silently returned to the classroom, his every movement a dance of stealth.
Observing the chaos outside the classroom, he received a discreet call from Mom-Unit, seeking analysis.
"Did you manage to analyze the situation?" Mom-Unit inquired softly.
"Yes, and I've obtained an item that may unravel the mystery of this outbreak," Bobert replied. "Any word from Cody and Jaden?"
"Negative. No word or the other civilians at the shelter," Mom-Unit responded. "Our equipment is near completion."
"Excellent. I'll be heading home cautiously," Bobert said, ending the communication. With the vent secured and thrusters activated, he departed the school, vigilantly avoiding detection. Suddenly, a new signal sprouted on his radar, interrupting his flight.
He stopped, connecting to the signal, and with a glance around, discerned its origin. His optic scanned left and right until he caught it on his radar. Once clearing the call, Bobert received a response.
"Sergeant Major Lucia Simian reporting! Is anyone in the area?! Over?!"
A feminine yet masculine voice resonated from the console, and Bobert responded, resuming his flight across the sky.
"Bobert 6B Alpha reporting! Over!"
"Bobert?!" Lucy asked through the communications.
"It is! Thank goodness! Perhaps he can help us!" Another voice, Gumball's, sounded through the communications.
"Greetings, Gumball and Ms. Simian. Has anyone been infected during evacuation?" Bobert asked.
"Just me and I'm sickened for what the monster did to me!" Gumball cried out.
"And we're escaping from Carrie's house behind us! We need your help right away. Where are you?!" Mrs. Simian demanded.
"I'm airborne. Recently departed Elmore College after salvaging a peculiar item, investigating, and saving fellow citizens," The robot replied.
"Peculiar item? What item?" Gumball inquired.
"Never mind that! Bobert, get the troops and head to our location now! We're inside a humvee!" Mrs. Simian ordered.
"Affirmative! I'll contact my brethren and Mrs. Jotunheim to rendezvous with me to receive you while Mom-Unit prepares our upgrades. We'll arrive shortly. Bobert out!" The mech reported before the radio frequency turned static. After this, Bobert used his radar, and Mom-Unit and Mrs. Jotunheim icons popped out. Ceasing his flight, he looked upward and witnessed destruction, dust clouds, and hordes of infection in the distance. His optic shrunk, but determination took over as he narrowed his eyes, called his mother and the witch, and detected codes from a nearby vehicle.
"Mom-Unit! Mrs. Jotunheim! I request rounding up our brethren and the magicians! Zachery and Lucia called for help, and I have them on my radar!" Bobert said as he transformed into his combat mode.
And that's the end of this chapter.