The Shiny City

[Proto Man]

In the end, the prototype Robot Master had opted to go with the group heading toward Corusant. While he didn’t trust the sleazy-looking man in the suit and the helmeted policeman, Proto Man knew he’d fit in even less if he traveled to a realm of knights, wizards, and peasants. Plus, Nanoha had left ahead of their contingent, which meant that he’d at least be able to locate her on the other side of the gate. She had said something about visiting their library, but if this city was half the size King Bradley made it out to be, then there had to be several dozen of them… right?

Then again, Proto Man knew he shouldn’t jump to any conclusions about where he was going with the group of storm troopers and the other ‘Primes.’ With a sigh, the robot retrieved his whistle and played a melody as the transport finished its journey. Dredd spoke some words near the front of the vessel, and everyone began to file out onto the landing pad. The android was one of the last ones out of the vehicle, and almost immediately, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near Monsteropolis any longer.

The buildings stretched up and out into infinity, and for all intents and purposes, it looked beautiful in a modern, urban kind of way. Near the far end of the platform, Proto Man spotted Dredd and a group of his troopers carting away the Joker, who still seemed to be amused by the whole situation.

“Hello there.”

Proto Man looked up to see a six-foot humanoid robot standing over him. Although it spoke through a voice box on the end of its strange, cylindrical head, its tone was pleasant enough. “Hi,” the preteen android remarked as he took note of similar robots assisting the other Primes gathered outside the transport.

“I am CR-216, and I am here to welcome you to Corusant.” The droid’s joints twitched occasionally as it spoke, giving it a rather awkward appearance. “Would you like to follow me to your quarters?”

The Robot Master nodded and watched as the droid performed an about-face and started toward one of the nearby structures. In silence, the two robots made their way through a network of stairwells, weaving hallways, and elevated platforms that dangled over busy streets full of hover cars. At the end of it all, Proto Man was certain they were still in the same place they’d started. If just one building was so enormous, what significance did he have in any of this?

“You should find your quarters sufficient for your needs.” CR-216 reached out a twitching hand and poked one of its ‘fingers’ against a pad near what seemed to be a locking mechanism. After a beat, a melodic hum issued from said pad, and the doorway slid into the opposing wall with a pneumatic hiss. “If you require anything, you should not hesitate to contact me using the intercom on the other side of this door.” With that, the jerky droid turned its ‘head’ to look down at Proto Man. “Do you need anything at this moment in time?”

“Yes,” Proto Man responded as he pressed a gloved hand against a scar on his other arm. “Do you guys have welding kits here? And maybe some sandpaper and spray-paint?”

The droid’s head jerked harshly to the left as a bunch of strange noises issued forth from its voice box. After a few moments, it returned to its normal glance and nodded its head. “We have appropriate equivalents of the devices you desire, but you are aware that you could summon these tools given your status as a Prime?”

Proto Man shrugged his shoulders. “I lived five years on borrowed time without snapping my fingers for supplies, so I’m pretty sure I don’t need to start now. Will you help me or not?”

“Of course, I am programmed to do so. I will return as soon as possible, kindly remain in your quarters in the interim.” With that, the droid executed another twitchy about-face and started off down the hallway.

Now left to his own devices, the Robot Master slipped into his room and pushed the pad on the other side. The door slid back into place with another pleasant hiss, and for the first time in weeks, Proto Man was alone. With a heavy sigh, the android reached up and removed his visored helmet. Setting the scorched piece of headgear onto the thin mattress, he turned and looked at his reflection in the mirror that hung in front of the bathroom door. His hair, normally somewhat embarrassing, was matted down and still clung to his scalp.

Fortunately, large, angular sunglasses he wore beneath his helmet were in perfect shape. At least some things remain the same.