[Exemplary] Family of Steel - Carved from the Blighted Oak

[Proto Man]

Unbeknownst to Proto Man, a darkspawn had been eying him with hungry eyes from the shadows. But as the creature had moved to jump upon the seemingly absentminded preteen, a hand wrapped around its neck. Before it could voice its rage at being grabbed, the darkspawn’s neck was broken. As the creature collapsed against a nearby tree, a snake-themed android brushed off his hands and set his eyes on the red machine a few dozen feet away.

Why is he turning around? Snake Man pondered as he slinked back into the darkness. The reptilian machine had watched from the darkness as the Prodigal processed the data from the puck, but after taking a moment to mutilate himself, the other machine was now reversing his path. If only I could just speak with him. The serpent frowned. Why did his brother have to be so stubborn? They would be better served traveling together, where they could defend one another.

Snake Man looked down at his hands, which were dirty with grime and blood alike. It hadn’t been easy protecting the Prodigal from ambush, but whether or not he supported Proto Man’s decision to ‘go it alone,’ the serpent knew he had to protect his brother. It was only through the red robot that they would be able to unlock and decipher Wood Man’s knowledge. I just hope this is worth it…

***

A few miles away from Wood Man’s previous cache, Proto Man found himself reaching the top of a valley as the sun started to crest over the horizon. He remembered this valley too well, because it had been the scene where the night elves had been camped out in an attempt to intercept him.

“You saved a few of them,” someone spoke from behind the robot, their feminine voice a faint whisper.

With a yelp, Proto Man spun around, dropping the leg and hoisting his hands up in an attempt to defend himself from a certain ambush. When no such initial attack came, he lowered his arms and found himself looking at someone who certainly had some night elves in their family tree. The attire she wore, although slightly modified, was similar to that of the other Sentinels Proto Man had encountered. Aside from a different style of bow, the woman’s skin was also closer to the color mauve than violet.

“Have you been following me?” The preteen inquired as he glanced at his surroundings to make sure there wasn’t anyone else lurking among the trees.

“Yes, since you came exploding up out of the Animus. You could say I was curious about a youth with that type of power, but now I’m interested in what exactly you know about the Blight. Are you trying to heal the woods?” Strangely enough, the woman spoke with an accent that sounded familiar to Proto Man. She sounded just like the Spanish-speaking populations on New York’s Lower East Side. The robot had spent six months living in Loisaida.

“Who and what are you?” Proto Man asked without acknowledging the woman’s own question.

“Mireya Vasquez.” The night elf responded. “I’m what you might call a ‘hermit.’ Whoever summoned me into the Omniverse wanted me to be biracial, and as a result, I haven’t made too many acquaintances that can speak a whole sentence. Such is the life of an unwanted, unintended secondary,” she grinned at her own joke, revealing imperfect teeth closer to a human than those of the night elves.

“I’m sorry,” Proto Man muttered. “I understand what it’s like to feel unwanted wherever you go.” The sentiment was true, reflecting the red robot’s entire existence up until he discovered his siblings in the Omniverse.

“So are you out to heal the woods? Or are you just lost in the Green?”

The android smiled faintly. “One of my half-brothers came here and became infected by the Blight. He left a video record, along with all his notes and analysis.” Proto Man lifted his arm to show the banishment circle etched around his wrist guard. “Once I collect his last entry, I’m going to the Pale Moors to destroy the source of the Blight.”

“The source?” Mireya asked. “There’s a source?”

“Yes,” the machine responded with a wider smile. “There’s a prime called an Archdemon that created the Blight, and Wood Man’s belief is that the Archdemon’s banishment will prevent the Blight from spreading.”

The half-night elf’s eyes light up at the idea of an end to the Blight. “Do you mind if I accompany you?” She asked, her tone sounding genuine as she reached around her back and retrieved her bow. “I know how to handle myself, and while you certainly don’t need the firepower, you could probably use an extra set of eyes and an extra pair of fists.”

Proto Man nodded his head. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would have had her along just for the sake of company.

“So you going to tell me your name or should I call you Little Red?” Mireya asked with a smirk.

“I’m Blues.”

“…You sure you’re not called Reds?”

The android furrowed his brow behind his visor. “It’s a genre of music that my creators enjoyed.”

“Creators?”

“I’m a robot… it’s a long story.”

The half-night elf grinned. “Well we’ve got a lot of time between now and the gate.” With that, the two started their trek back toward the entrance of the Tangled Green.

***

Time had slipped by without either traveler really paying much attention to it, and while neither bothered to say it out loud, they had appreciated the other’s presence. For Mireya, the robot allowed her to get some of the best night’s worth of sleep she’d had since her last failed attempt to integrate into Camelot society. On the other hand, Proto Man found himself not having to neurotically glance to his peripherals as they crept along.

Over time, the tropical jungles of the ‘outer Green’ had given way to the temperate forests of the interior. Once they were back over the Animus River, Mireya started to discuss the various quirks of the forest, highlighting all the animal and plant species that populated each particular stretch of woods. From the rambling manner in which she discussed things, it became quite apparent she probably hadn’t spoken with another individual in quite some time. While her tales of forestry and animal husbandry were quite interesting, her accounts of the various societies in the outskirts of Camelot left Proto Man with a scowl. He knew that people could be terrible, but he figured that sort of xenophobia wouldn’t exist in the Omniverse, where everyone is technically and immigrant.

“How much longer?” Mireya inquired as the pair crested over a small hill and glanced down through a thinner patch of oak trees. “We’re only a few miles away from the Nexus gate.”

“It’s down there,” Proto Man muttered as his internal display focused him on a particularly tall tree. The fleeting happiness he’d accumulated on their trek through the Green withered away as he drew closer to the final cache. Glancing down at the severed limb still cradled in his arm, the robot was once again forced to wonder what awaited him.

“So you said this was your brother who left these recordings?” Mireya asked as the two made their way over to the tree.

“More like a half-brother, I suppose,” Proto Man replied.

“He’s one of… Doctor Wily’s creations?”

“Correct,” the machine responded, eliciting a grin from the biracial woman. “You think he’s still alive?”

“I hope not.”

The two carried on in silence until Proto Man reached the tree that housed the puck. There was no elaborate hatch. Instead, someone had torn their way into the pulp and jammed the tiny piece of technology inside. With a frown, the android plucked it out from its resting place, brushed it clean, and activated the holographic record. After a slight pause, a grainy image of Wood Man’s upper body appeared.

“End of the road,” the sylvan machine wheezed as he scratched as his ashen flesh. His eyes glowed with a faint red as he scanned his surroundings. “My data has been properly squirreled away, and this will be the last th…” He sagged forward for a few moments before lifting his head back up. “How… how do humans tolerate pain? Fear? How do they handle any of it? I’d give anything to go back to that empty shell of existence I was when I had Wily feeding orders into my brain.

“…anything.” Wood Man slumped forward for nearly a minute before popping back to his senses with a weak gasp. The robot picked up the recording device and walked it over to what was undoubtedly the same tree Proto Man now sat in front of. He jammed it into the heart of the tree but failed to cut the feed. The sylvan machine turned around and made it all of two steps before collapsing to the ground. The feed continued that way for close to five minutes until Wood Man’s still form started to convulse.

When he rose to the ground, the android on film turned around only once. All that remained of his eyes were burning red orbs, and the expression on his gray visage conveyed nothing but rage and malice.

Proto Man reached out and deactivated the puck. Once he had it tucked into his pouch with the others, he turned to look up at his elven companion. “Do you think you could track him?”

The night elf shook her head. “I can try, but I doubt it. How old do you think that recording was? Over a month? The tracks would probably be long dead by now.”

Before the robot could open his mouth to offer a rebuttal, the two were torn away from their conversation by the sound of a nearby tree toppling over. Both turned just in time to see a battered Snake Man come stumbling out of the woods. Proto Man had been acquainted with the ‘old’ and the new Snake Man, and neither of those iterations of the serpentine android had displayed anything like the mask of horror and confusion that the red android now saw.

“Fall back!” He screamed as the tree line behind him tore apart.