Day 3 Evening

[Proto Man]

Another day was drawing to a close.

And just like the others, Belle had managed to cap off her experience by suffering another head injury. While the girl had managed to shrug or limp off the first few, the most recent injury had here mumbling in her sleep following an incoherent and rambling stumble from the most recent battle.

How much gas did Belle have left in her tank?

For that matter… how many more lives did Mickey and he have left? With the threat of multiple relics in the vicinity, they’d opted to use the earrings. Much like before, the metal mouse had been enough to deal with the situation at hand. In their controlled withdrawal from the scene of the battle, they’d accumulated one of the relics—a pair of bracers that sat near the edge of what would become their fire pit in a few hours.

“She’ll be okay,” Proto Man whispered as Mickey sat down next to him. A glance over at their slumbering partner revealed that the mouse had set the shield over her form like a blanket. “Something tells me she’s probably experienced worse than this before.”

Although he nodded, it was clear that the mouse wasn’t exactly buying the argument, and Proto Man wouldn’t hold that against him—it was in his friend’s DNA to care about others above himself. It was that very trait that drew the preteen machine to the mouse, and it would be that very trait that would allow their trio the best chance of enduring this adventure.

“Where do you think the rest of the pieces are at?” Proto Man asked as he stared at the circle of stones on the ground. “Aren’t we running out of island? I feel like we’ve been walking nonstop for days.”

Mickey nodded his head. “Something tells me that the other pieces aren’t camping for the night… you know what I mean?”

Proto Man frowned. “They’ll be out there, looking for blood, won’t they? Like that Kopaka thing.” The mouse scowled at the mention of the large machine’s name. “You said the Empire sent that thing after you?”

The tiny monarch shook his head, causing his ears to flap back and forth. “Something tells me he’s just in it for the money. Sure, the Empire put out that bounty, but I think he’s a freelancer.”

“People make a living off of that?” Proto Man asked, and the moment the question left his lips, he felt like the largest idiot in the entire Omniverse.

Of course they do. People like Samus Aran.

The preteen machine scowled. Samus Aran only fought the bad guys, right?

Mickey wasn’t a bad guy, though, which made Kopaka something far worse.

Even though he’d been here longer than many of the primes he met, Proto Man still didn’t wholly understand the Omniverse. He knew that most of the people ‘selected’ to join this place weren’t nice, despite the fact that most of the native population tended to be decent folk. The citizenry of Darkshire, while gruff and paranoid, had been a sturdy, hard-working, and diligent people at their core. Those who lived in the slums of Coruscant who didn’t try to make money from tech- and drug-smuggling were some of the kindest folk that Proto Man had ever met.

Heck, the people of Nippur had nothing wrong with them. Their only fault was that they had a gilded monster for a ruler. And with the Endless Dunes as it was, the android couldn’t hold it against them that they’d rather live behind the walls of a tyrant than try their luck in the wasteland.

“If he shows up again, we’ll be ready,” Proto Man whispered to his friend as he leaned forward and picked up one of the bracers. Since he’d already discarded his own useless bracers days ago, the machine found it simple to fit the metal over his hand. Once the arm guard was in place, he was able to tug on a few straps until it fit snug onto the limb.

“I don’t think that one’s going to fire giant lasers,” Mickey smiled as the robot fitted the other bracer.

Proto Man turned and smiled beneath the shadow of his visor. “You never know.” He said, eliciting a soft chuckle from the mouse, who took another moment to glance over at Belle. Their companion had stopped mumbling in her sleep, but her breathing was still somewhat erratic.

“What about you?” Mickey inquired as he placed a palm on his own shoulder. “How’s the injury?”

The machine shrugged. “It’s still sore, but it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Lucky,” the mouse shot back.

“Yea, I’m pretty sure the warlock didn’t zap all my mojo when we came here. Just…”

“Just enough to make you doubt yourself, right?” Mickey interjected.

“Something like that.” Proto Man lifted up one of his arms and looked at the relic. The piece of metal and leather exuded a comforting warmth. “I’ll be happy when we can find the rest of these. I think I’ve had enough camping to last me a few years.”

Although he’d been rather somber the last few hours, the remark caused Mickey to throw his head back and chuckle.

At the sound of the mouse’s somewhat goofy laughter, Proto Man found himself laughing too, and just like that, they were two pseudo-kids just trying to laugh away their fears, frustrations, and doubts.

They had a lot going against them, but for just that moment, they had something stronger than anything their opponents could throw at them:

They had each other.