Two screens stared back at each other, the greener one flickering a bit, trying to check if her optics were fooling her. After a long time, she took some steps forward. "Cyan, is that you?"
A weak smile flickered back as the blue-screened bot chuckled and shrugged; the pain kept her from moving much as she leaned against Whitney. "Who else? I told you I would come back."
Beryl's eyes welled as she closed the distance and embraced her twin sister. Only Cyan's detriment of pain made Beryl ease up on her embrace.
"Careful, careful, OW! I have scratches that need fixing."
"I'm sorry." Beryl's voice rose in pitch. "I got too ambitious; I ruined your birthday."
Cyan silently thanked the creators that it was impossible to cry actual water-based tears; otherwise, the hug would have stung more. She pushed the pain aside, wanting to make her twin's pain a priority. "We both made the decision Beryl. It was about time you pushed me to find something new."
Beryl lifted her chin from her sister's shoulder. "You found something?"
"Those numbers did lead somewhere?" Beryl's husband interjected.
Cyan untangled herself from her sister's embrace as another bot approached. Benzo made no hesitation. "Dr. Mike is on his way, tools and everything. Do you want me to pack your bags?"
Her screen dimmed. "No, it's not like there is anything to pack." She nodded to her beaten and torn backpack behind her. "Besides, got these."
Sweat marks emoted on the scruffier bots screen. "Oh yeah, your apartment is infested..."
Wood clinking on the ground nearby brought everyone's attention toward the elevator. The Guardian stood with a grocery bag of items extended in his hand. "That is quite alright; we have already packed some items for you."
Cyan could make out the items in it by silhouette alone. There were two cans of spray paint, some brushes, and a rectangle brick-like device. "My tablet?" she asked, taking the bag.
The Guardian tipped his hat. "I had given myself time to grab something when the Zurks attacked; I knew one of my favorite students would have been heartbroken if she had just lost her new prize."
Blush lines glowed on Cyan's face. "Sifu, you are too kind."
"And you are barely walking!"
Everyone turned to see the surgeon's approach. He was barking orders when he came closer. "Whitney, pick her up and place her on the lawn chair I have set up near the elevator. Those sentinels are giving me the creeps; best to show them that Cyan is not lollygagging."
"You got it, boss." Whitney scooped his sister-in-law up and hustled to the elevator without hesitation, Dr. Mike in tow. Beryl followed the two, trying to speak up over Cyan's detestments of needing to be carried.
"Wait, what are we talking about here? What's going on?"
Her husband turned around, breaking his stride briefly. "The elevator is coming down."
"And I need to get on it."
The group did a double take on Cyan's response, exclaiming "WHAT?!" all at once. The dark blue-screened bot's only response was to roll her eyes as she let herself continue to be carried to the lawn chair. Settling down in it she sighed. "Where do I even begin? I do know that someone in a place called Midtown wants me to work for them."
"What is a Midtown?" Beryl asked with a question mark screen.
"Town, my love. Like what we live in now." Whitney corrected her.
YOU ARE READING
Automatic Heritage
FanfictionBeryl's daydreams tend to nag at her nowadays. As a resident of the slums of a sealed city, she seems to be one of the few who thinks it is worth thinking about the outside. But why, why does this thought seem so ingrained in her code when a majorit...
