the garden within the wasteland

act 1, part 1

A panic, a sweat, and a clank of metal.The old, rusty machine was now active after lying dormant, awaiting and begging for an order from the father for a hundred years. The last time this machine was active, nature bloomed, animals fed on the grass, and birds nestled in trees. The machine turned its head with a slight struggle, fighting against the rusted gears. It peered outside the broken wooden shack it had found itself in, Nothing but a desert, an empty land, the land gray with slight hints of a golden glow, almost like sparkles to it, the horizon empty; even the clouds seemed few and far between.
 It turned its head in front of it again, noticing the man who stood before him. The man was dressed from head to toe in armor, with an obnoxious cape wrapped around his neck. As it flew gently through the air, you could spot the image of the silhouette of a deer's head on it, drawn in a calm baby blue color.
 "You don't look like any machine I've seen before."
His voice was stern; it echoed in the shack as he stared down at the machine, awaiting a response, his hand resting near his revolver.
"Neither are you!"
The machine replied, its voice cracking and glitching, attempting to remember how to make noise, yet his voice still remained slightly human.
 "I'm not a machine."
"Then what's with all the steel?"
"Protection."
"Do you even have flesh under there?" The man stretched out his left arm, showing his piercing pale skin.
"What model are you? You don't look like a G.O.P or comforter."
"Model? Let me remember." Before the machine could count, it bolted upward, its camera-like head glowing a bright orange as a mechanical female voice replied for him,
"MODEL TH-21007 KNOWN AS 'BRUSH.'"
"Brush?"
The "Brush" slouched back up; its perfect posture now broken. He rubbed the top of his head and looked back at the man as if experiencing a headache. "Well, what do you call yourself, armored boy?"
"Ereo. That's what I was named. "The Brush, now seemingly recovered, peers outside the window again, scanning the area. "If you can be of help, I am in a hurry." "I'm going to have to wait. "Ereo follows him, peering outside the window alongside him, noticing a group of four machine skeletons marching aimlessly, standing near the shore, the bright sun sinking behind them into the endless ocean.
"Is that it? Four machines is not a threat." Ereo peeks his head through the broken gap in the wall, staring up at the sky, noticing a dragon flying across, circling them like a vulture. "A-a dragon? They're a rare sight; they don't even appear in the west, where I live."
"Is that what a dragon is supposed to look like?" They begin to observe it, pointing out each small mistake: misshapen eyes, differently shaped teeth, pupils of different shapes, the left eye blinking vertically and the other horizontally. They point out its flaws like children playing a game, sharing a small laugh.
 Interpreting the moment of silence, gunfire opened from the three marching machines. Ereo dove, avoiding the gunfire, while Brush stood there unaffected by them.
"Do you have a coin?" asked Ereo. "For what?" replied Brush, confused as his "brain" began to race around, attempting to figure out how a coin could be used now.
Ereo let out a loud sigh of disappointment. He dashed out of his cover, brandishing his firearm and firing at the three machines, slowly piercing their chests and deactivating them. He stood up slowly, spinning his firearm with the bleak moon behind him as the three machines slowly fell to their knees, the sounds of gears and the hums of wires beginning to slowly stop. He held his pose before returning his gun, as if a crow were watching him perform.
"And the dragon?" asked Brush.
Ereo turned, seeing the dragon still in the sky and now preparing for a landing. Ereo slowly walked out of the way as it landed.
 Its breathing was labored; you could feel it fighting and suffering, barely letting out each breath. Its eyes frantically kept searching the air, as if on the hunt for a predator bigger than it was.It was massive, yet looked starved. It looked more like an overgrown lizard than a mystical dragon. It had red scales that appeared to be drawn on. Its tail was jagged and crooked, one shade darker than the rest of its body.
Ereo stood admiring the beast. He wasn't sure what to feel staring at this "thing." There was disappointment—a dragon is supposed to be the top of the natural order, yet this looked like a failed replica of a real, alive dragon. And there was the ever-present feeling of pity. This thing was in pain, as if it wasn't bred to live but to serve a purpose. But most of all was the overwhelming feeling of fear. A fear that held onto him like chains, a fear that removed his ability to think steady thoughts or keep his body steady. Not of the dragon; the dragon invited more pity than fear. But the dragon was afraid. Of what? Was it terrified of the machines? Of me? Or is there something I can't see at play? He kept pondering these thoughts, running them one at a time like a carousel inside his brain.
"Is this what you were looking for?"
 The voice of Brush made him shift his attention from that thing to the machine. The machine was holding up a small pamphlet.
It had brown poles it was connected to and a collection of green oval shapes that seemed light, as if wind were to touch them, it would carry them away, rustling in the air. Their body seemed hard and powerful, yet they appeared so inviting. He read the title of the pamphlet: "How to Care for a Narrowleaf Cottonwood Tree."
"That's not what I'm searching for. Give it to me, however."
"Then what are you searching for?
"Ereo snatched the pamphlet from Brush's metallic grasp. He read the text on the first page: "Written by Saint Uriel." He continued to read frantically, flipping through the pages with amazement.
"First time seeing a tree, metal head?""A tree?" Ereo replied curiously."A tree?" The reply was sarcastic, almost joking. The Brush moved past him, spreading its arm south beyond the massive dragon.
"THOSE ARE TREES," Brush continued with false excitement in his voice before slowly dying down. "There used to be a forest here. What happened?"
"You keep saying words without giving meaning, machine."
Brush looked around in shock, searching the area for any sign of plant life, only to find none, not even grass."I don't know what you're getting at," Ereo continued, approaching the machine. "I'm searching for a yellow tablet. It's supposed to help me identify any life form. The deer god wants it."Brush didn't respond but reached inside its chest cavity and pulled out the same tablet, handing it over to Ereo.
"You've had it this entire time?" Ereo hissed as he yanked it.
As Brush turned back to face Ereo, seeing Ereo quickly become occupied attempting to work the tablet, the dragon began to panic and roar, its voice almost sounding distorted. It began to flap its wings violently as it took flight. The massive crimson wings pushed the two of them down. The ground began to shake, and the water began to hiss and fuzz. A single bubble appeared near the shore and began to rotate faster and faster with each cycle, expanding its range. It began to form a massive sinkhole in the middle of the ocean as Brush and Ereo got back on their feet. The dragon continued to fly wildly in the air, as if frozen by indecision on where to escape from or attempting to scare what was spawning from the water.
The sinkhole suddenly turned into darkness as the water split in an instant, almost allowing passage.
 A massive serpent erected from the water, its body covered in massive, heavy-looking scales. The area became too dark to see their color. It stood tall, almost 60 meters. Its mouth had no eyes or features other than its massive open mouth that split the clouds in the sky. It opened its mouth wide as a long albino arm popped out, followed by a thick red nerve. The crimson-aged blood inside it slid as it moved out of the serpent's mouth. At the end of this nerve was an eyeball with bright blue eyes, as bright as the moonlight that illuminated this serpent.
It quickly moved its nerve around the dragon's shoulders, slamming it into the ground as it yelled in agony and fear. The albino arm moved slowly, almost seeming to try to remember how to move joints around the arms.
 It forced the fingers into four straight lines while the thumb was tucked into the palm, pointing downward. It raised its arm slowly like a rope being pulled upwards, then fell down as quick as lightning, decapitating the dragon's head from its body before grabbing its limp body and pulling it back to its mouth, hiding the appendages alongside it. It didn't chew or swallow; it simply went down directly to the stomach without extra effort.
Ereo and Brush, both paralyzed with fear, had the same thought after witnessing the events: "This is my only chance to leave."

Ereo checked the tablet to see if it had cracked. In his panic, he grabbed it from the wrong side, so the screen faced the serpent. The machine spoke in a light blue before speaking:

                                                            "the one in the blue,"
                                                         "heavenly class demon,"
"a demon tamed from the depths of hell by the heir of the throne in her attempt to seize control in this land."

The tablet continued to state the facts in a monotone voice as Ereo flipped the tablet the correct way and began to tap on it, attempting to silence it. The serpent's head twisted towards the pair, opening its mouth as a horde of eyes slithered out like a pack of snakes. Around 30 eyes stared down at the two of them.

Without wasting a moment, Brush grabbed Ereo by the arm and ran—no direction or plan, just running east. Ereo quickly regained his senses and began to run next to the machine. The sea serpent gave chase, quickly catching up with them as it traded its eyes in favor of arms, preparing to crush them on sight.

Brush came to an abrupt stop, Ereo behind him. Before them stood a small temple.