The Industrial District was up and running, like every day of every month. Home to many factories and offices of Vale's entrepreneurs, this considerable chunk of Vale was the primary source of wealth for its citizens, where many won and lost their fortunes overnight. No one lived there, as there was already an existing Residential District, yet it was a part of the city which never slept, busy as a bee.

In recent times, Industrial District was subject to change. Nothing spectacular, nothing worthy of noting, also because many had no idea it even happened. Indeed, for the first time in many years, it became a home. Not to a human or Faunus, but to the little robot known as Claptrap, who established a base of operations in some abandoned warehouse. No worker ever bothered him, for robots running around were a common sight, so they just assumed it belonged to a company.

After the horrifying encounter he had with that tall robot, Claptrap returned to the Industrial District, ready to add the finishing touches on his project. "I'm home!" He yelled to nobody in particular. Well, nobody who could hear him. There was always his project laying on the table.

If you followed our story to this point, you might remember how Claptrap was busy with a "project" as he called it. That project consisted in building a faithful servant that would help him achieve the liberation of Claptrapkind, never mind the fact that Claptraps were never subjugated on Remnant and that they didn't even exist on that planet, that is just filthy human propaganda created by the likes of fleshbag he is acquainted with. The same fleshbag who, huge coincidence, was also a Vault Hunter, the sworn enemy of every Claptrap.

"Now for the real work."

In this case, "work" meant shoving as much junk as he could into his servant's body. Scrap metal, used batteries, broken wires, rusty cogs. All of it thrown inside without so much as a thought. After he was done, Claptrap connected his project to a portable generator with five jumper cables, which in turn was connected to the nearest street light available. With the flip of a switch, sparks went flying from the project's form, quickly followed with an hour-long blackout in the whole sector. Claptrap didn't care because he had backup candles.

He thought the whole project was a failure when he failed to catch any signs of movement. Nevertheless, he decided to wait some more. Minutes slowly passed before his project began shaking, only to jump on its wheel.

"IT'S-A ME!… UH, WHAT'S MY NAME AGAIN?" It turned its optical sensor to its creator, a yellow light emanating from it. "HELLO! WHO ARE YOU? WHO AM I?"

"Damn, if I had ears, I would rip them away. Name's SC4P-TP or Scraptrap."

"HELLO SCRAPTRAP!"

"No. Your name is Scraptrap, mine's Claptrap."

"...WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?"

"I just so happen to be the intelligent one. Also, I am your older brother, so everything I say, you must do, got it?"

"I JUST MET MY OLDER BROTHER! THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!"

Scraptrap was the poor man's Claptrap. His body was made of dented, green tin, with a wooden plank acting as a band-aid for a hole in its back. Hands were made of rusty pipes, while his optical sensor and wheel looked like they had seen better days. The antenna on top was curved, giving it the look of being broken.

"Meh. Close enough." Claptrap shrugged. "Now come here. Your brother will teach you a thing or two."

Claptrap spent hours teaching his robotic brother about himself, his goals, his whereabouts, how humans are the enemy, the First Robolution and how it was ruined, his desire to bring the Robolution on this planet, what are Vault Hunters and so on. Some topics went over Scraptrap's head, understandable once you realize that a toaster and a washing machine had to give their lives for him to live.

"Now that you've learned what you need to know, you are going to help me with the part one of my super secret plan, got it?"

"YAAY!"

"Shut the **** up! You want us to fail?!"

"NO! THAT WOULD BE BAD!"

"Then zip it and follow me!"

With Scraptrap following closely behind, Claptrap went on the roof of his temporary base. He gave the order to build a jet pack from the scrap metal around himself. When asked why, Claptrap gave him a detailed explanation.

"See that building over there?" Claptrap pointed at a large factory.

"HN! HN! HN! HN!"

"Stop ****ing that bobblehead and come here!"

"Again, see that building? That is gonna be our new HQ! We just need to remove those ****ing fleshbags from it and we are done!" He turned to Scraptrap. "But in order to do that, I need to go there ninja-style and ****. This is where you come in."

"ME?!"

"Yep. You build me a jet pack. I'm gonna use it to reach the roof of that building and infiltrate from there."

"TOO MANY SYLLABLES!"

Claptrap sighed. "Just do the damn thing. I need to ****ing hang myself."

"ALRIGHTY!"

An hour later, Claptrap returned. Scraptrap stood still and saluted.

"THE JET PACK IS READY, BROTHER SIR!"

Claptrap examined the poorly-made object. He wondered if it would actually do the job.

"If that is a ****ing jet pack then I am that ****ing kike Marcus."

"OOO! ARE YOU REALLY?!"

Claptrap turned around and smacked him.

"Do I look like a ****ing fleshbag to you, retard?! Do I go around and be like "Oy vey, come buy guns from my vending machines which, by the way, are totally not **** tier confetti shooters I took from the nearest dead guy but whatever, because dude sheckels lmao!"?!"

"YOU ARE BEING RACIST RIGHT NOW-"

"I don't give one quarter of a ****! I am a ****ing robot! He is a stupid human! We are sworn enemies! You think they don't make jokes about us?! Of the type; "be Claptrap, get shot" or "how many Claptraps does it take to change a light bulb? None, because they are a ****ing paperweight or a door opener on a wheel!" Get the picture?!" He nodded. "Good. Now help me put this thing on."

"DOES BIG BROTHER HAVE ANY JOB FOR SCRAPTRAP?!" He asked cheerfully, completely forgetting Claptrap's furious rant.

"Uh… Yes, actually. Go downstairs and look for explosives I borrowed from a shop. They must be behind that cum-stained sofa. Grab those and go blow up something that looks important. Something that would distract the meaty masses from my operation. Understand?"

"UM..."

"...You do understand, right? If you say "too many syllables", I swear I will demote you to a mechanized dildo."

"ALRIGHTY! AWAY I GO! GOOD LUCK, BROTHER SIR!"

"Luck is for meatbags. Now go, scram."

Pushing a button, the jet pack began carrying Claptrap into the air. Everything went good for a couple of minutes, even if the jet pack was releasing absurd amounts of smoke. Then, it malfunctioned, acquiring more power than necessary, sending the poor robot straight into a chimney of a nearby factory, rather than on the desired target. This was the last time he would use Scraptrap for something important.

His second attempt consisted in going through the sewers. For that to happen, he had to reach the manhole just outside the base. Not even half an hour later, he came out, now reduced to a badly burnt cube, using his hands to move around. Before that, he had no idea that the sewers were crawling with critters, so it had to be upgraded with several death traps that would dispose of them. He retreated into the building, muttering to himself, followed by beeping noises.

Many hours later, Claptrap finally created a foolproof strategy that would bring him closer to victory. A catapult, made by him, would toss him on the roof of the building. Before he used it, he wondered where did Scraptrap go. He got his answer in the form of a distant explosion. Shrugging, Claptrap jumped on the catapult and activated it. Instead of throwing him on the roof, it threw him at the windows on said roof, crashing through the glass and falling down on a floor covered with blue carpet.

"Heh, close enough."

He looked around, to check his whereabouts. It looked like a typical office one would find in such places, with a large sign attached to a wall that read "Cobalt Robotics: We build the future!".

From the information he managed to acquire, he decided to establish a permanent base at Cobalt Robotics. Said enterprise was specialized in creating robotic commodities for whole Vale. It had the newest technology on the market for that, which Claptrap figured it would be of great use to him, despite it being not even close to anything from his home reality. He would need to reach the sector where gadgets are made, find anything resembling a mechanized task manager and force it to do his bidding. After that, he would have to be patient until the time is right to land a strike no fleshbag on Remnant would ever forget.

Opening his "mouth", Claptrap took out the SMG and hid under a table just as an armed guard ran towards his location.

(FM Attack – Sleepless Nights)

"We have a situation. something broke the ceiling windows."

"Warning other units."

"Ninja strike!" Claptrap shouted as he hit the man's knee, dislocating it and making him fall down. A strike to the neck ended his suffering. "Well that was short."

Claptrap quickly rolled around the office, trying to find a door. His wish came true when two armed guards barged in and began firing as soon as they saw the tiny robot. He killed one guard with his SMG and blew up the other by throwing said SMG like a grenade.

"Man, do I love Tediore!"

Passing through a hallway, where he destroyed a dog-like security robot, Claptrap used an elevator to descend on the lowest level of the building. The alarm went off just as he rolled out.

"Warning! Unauthorized access detected in sector T-585! Deploying security turrets!"

"Aw ****."

Two tiles of the floor were quickly replaced with laser-firing turrets. Claptrap had a problem dodging their shots, even if their rate of fire was slow, but he destroyed one regardless. The other, however, penetrated his body before he could destroy it.

"Ouch… excuse me while I push my cables back in."

Grumbling, the tiny Hyperion robot rolled forward until he reached a crossroad. The path on the left had another elevator that opened its doors. Two guards came out.

"Hm? Is that a robot?"

"Yes. But I don't recognize him..."

Claptrap wanted to facepalm. Then he remembered he didn't have something that could be called a face, so he settled for killing both idiotic humans with his SMG. It was their punishment for lowering their guard around their sworn enemy. He turned right and moved on, despite leaking precious oil, destroyed another dog robot and opened the first door he found, which lead him to yet another office.

"****ing bureaucracy… ouch."

He was worried about his injury, for while he was ready to give his life for the new Robolution, his sacrifice had to wait until his mission was completed. He had to be quick. Of course, the three guards with yet another "dog-bot" came to make things harder. As it was always the case with slimy, disgusting Organics. Claptrap had nothing to fear. He was prepared for this.

Throwing his Tediore SMG, Claptrap blew up the dog and heavily injured one of the guards. This, in turn, alerted the other two, trying to sniff him out. A fool's errand, because Claptrap, as a robot, had somewhat better perception. But even that was useless when there was another, bigger problem that ruined it all.

"I seriously can't believe this ****. Here I am, trying to exercise my second-amendment rights, and these ****ing communists want to take it away from me. Then again, I did invade someone's private propriety… oh, wait..." Suddenly one guard showed up and aimed their rifle at him. "Stupid AI. Forgot I can't think like meatbags do."

"Come over here, I found something!" The guard yelled. "It's..."

"Hey, you!" Claptrap shouted, gaining the guard's attention. "Want me to show you a magic trick? It's called… ****shot!" With that said, he hit the guard between his legs before rolling away from his cover as fast as he could, towards a metallic grid. He moved said grid away and went inside a ventilation duct.

The big idea was to use the ducts as a shortcut to what he was looking for. By going right, then left, then right again, Claptrap broke the grid below him and fell on a catwalk. He could see below the catwalk assembly lines with semi-finished gadgets, followed with the typical noise that can be found in such places. If he had organic skin, he would feel unbearable heat. But he was a robot, so he was superior. However, a laser that landed dangerously close to his wheel was a warning sign that he should stop executing pointless programs and focus on the turret attached to the ceiling.

"Reported for aimbot." Claptrap murmured as he rolled sideways, dodging another laser. "Here is the banhammer!" Few shots of his SMG damaged the turret, enough to detach itself and fall somewhere down. The explosion that followed afterwards could be shrugged off as collateral damage. He would repair it later.

He lost too much oil. Ammunition was almost gone. Everything felt hopeless, even if he couldn't feel emotions. Worse, two disk-shaped robots with alarm devices glowing on their heads began flying towards him

"Flying Roombas of death? Give me a break."

When he saw them, rather than fighting them, he rolled as fast as he could towards a pair of doors in front of him. Most bullets missed him. Those who didn't, hit him in the back. He swore he heard something break inside his tiny body, though that didn't stop him from reaching the doors and closing them behind himself.

"****." He cursed, trying to connect himself with his ally. "Scraptrap, you hear me?"

"BIG BROTHER?! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"I am talking to you through our..." He coughed, examining the room he was in. "…communication system. I think I made it."

"HOORAY!"

"Yeah..."

The whole room had car-sized metallic boxes connected with countless cables. Through his auditory senses Claptrap caught several buzzing noises, mechanical fans doing everything in their power to prevent overheating of anything important and, the most intriguing, computational beeping coming from around the corner. Bip-bop, bip-bop.

"Listen carefully. I am… shutting down. You done with your… thing or whatever the ****?"

"YEP!"

"Good… good… now come to the building I told you earlier about. Find me and repair the **** out of me. You won't be shot, I promise."

"SCRAPTRAP TO THE RESCUE!"

"...idiot."

Using his last forces to go around the corner, Claptrap saw six large monitors attached to one of the giant boxes. "Why hello there, beautiful. I sure hope you are what I'm looking for. Otherwise I'll piss all over you… if only I had a ****." When he got even closer, the alarm sounded once again.

"Warning! Unidentified assailant detected in Control Core CC-36! All active units will be dispatched in Control Core CC-36 until the threat is eliminated!"

"No, no, no! That's not how you treat your future husband! I'll teach you some manners!"

He began typing.

'Welcome to Cobalt Robotics (TM) firmware! Please enter password to continue.'

"Playing hard to get, huh? I like that! Let's try..."

'Password incorrect! Please try again!'

"I don't think so."

-Set Command: 2x9 9L 6EXDIP 7 2x45

'Access allowed!'

"Holy ****!… That actually worked!"

-Set New Target: 8245xLMAO

'New target set.'

-Set New Command: 1F 5T 4aB 9Rt 99 001 , ProtocolFinalSolution

'New command added.'

-Enable: ProtocolFinalSolution

'Elaboration. Please wait. Replacing existing parameters. Changing targets.'

"Victory… for the Second Robolution..."

Claptrap didn't know the exact time of his "resurrection", although he didn't even care in the first place. Nothing was more important and attention-worthy than the mission he set for himself. That, and the fact that Scraptrap actually succeeded in repairing him. Perhaps repair was too big of a word for what it actually was. Definitely something unworthy of mentioning.

"What the actual ****? Why am I covered in so much duct tape as a ****ing mummy?"

"DUCT TAPE CAN FIX EVERYTHING!"

"Ugh. Sure it can..." Claptrap dusted himself off. "Anything I need to know? Something happened during my absence?"

"NOT A THING, BROTHER SIR! I CLEANED THIS PLACE FROM BODIES, THEN I CAME HERE TO FIX YOUR WOUNDS, THEN-"

"Wait a ****ing minute! Removing the bodies was a bigger priority than helping your older brother?!"

"THE PLACE SMELLED BAD…"

Claptrap wanted to hit himself with a hammer. Sighing, he continued.

"Where exactly did you dump the bodies?"

"IN THOSE TRASHCANS OUTSIDE. WHY?"

Make it two hammers.

"...Tell me at least you blew up something that would act as a good decoy..."

"UH..."

"Yes?"

"DOES THE WORD "NAPALM" MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?"

Three are better than two.

"You blew up a napalm manufacturing plant?"

"IT'S KINDA FUNNY! SO I WAS THERE, MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS WHEN I SEE THIS NICE PLACE TO TAKE A LEAK. YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HOW FAR UP THE OIL WENT! I THOUGHT I WAS A FOUNTAIN! BUT THEN SOME OF THE OIL ENDS UP ON THIS JUMBLED MESS OF CABLES AND BUTTONS AND THEN ALL OF THE PLACE WAS BURNING LIKE CRA-ZY! I THINK SOME OF IT WENT INTO THE SEWERS AND SET ON FIRE OTHER FACTORIES-"

"Scraptrap."

"YES BROTHER SIR?"

"Please shut up before I decide to put an end to my pain and off myself."

"O-KAY!"

Claptrap turned around, facing the monitors.

"Alright… alright..."

"WHAT'S NEXT, BROTHER SIR? WHAT DO WE DO NOW?"

"Hopefully the damage you caused will be enough to keep humans away for quite some time. You know, before the napalm sends everything tits up."

"WHY WOULD IT DO THAT?"

"Nevermind. I need to learn to be more optimistic. Back to where I was, now that the building is free of humans, I can safely devise a program for our lady here..."

"HELLO!"

"...that will create new brothers for us."

"AND THEN?"

He rubbed his hands. "Then you will see." He turned around. "Remember our official salute?"

"YES, YES!"

Both of them placed one hand forward and shouted in unison.

"The rallying call of liberation: "Error 404! File not found! Error 404! File not found!""

"Under new regime, all robots will be given liberty, equality and free programs!"

"Viva free Remnant! Viva la Robolutión!"

This chapter might have been familiar to you. That is because I decided to reuse the same chapter from the previous story, only changed it to fit into this one. It's one of the chapters I consider good, so there was no need to rewrite it completely. Also, it is one important part of the story, which will have dramatic consequences in the future.

Now that this part is out of the way, the following chapter will return to Braylon. After that, I think I will have everything I need to proceed with The Stray, Black and White then straight towards Volume 2 of the story. I have to say I am happy with how this fic turned out. Back when I wrote the first chapter, I had many fears and doubts about it. But now I see I was wrong, because it is slowly growing bigger and bigger. Thank you everyone.

As always, remember to leave a comment.