Upper Level, Competition Zone
Everett Arena
Everett Arena, Upper Level, Competition Zone
Late into the night, another arena match comes to an end as spectators stream out in droves.
The crowd buzzes with excitement as people enthusiastically discuss the fierce battle they just witnessed, completely oblivious to the bird-shaped drone silently circling overhead.
But the bird drone's cameras aren't focused on the people—they're systematically locking onto the exit corridors and the various mechanical ushers guiding the human spectators.
Dozens of meters beneath the bustling spectacle, in the lower level of the arena, Serra clutches her controller with nervous hands as she carefully pilots the mechanical bird drone.
I hope the anti-detection chip actually works... God, please make sure everything goes well this time...
She stares intensely at the tiny display on her controller, but all she can see is static snow—no video feed yet.
She carefully adjusts the dial on her controller until, finally, the static clears, revealing a blurry image that gradually sharpens into focus.
Whoa—it's working! I knew we'd get it right this time, Hammer! It worked!
(Circles around Serra as the indicator light flashes.)
Under Serra's guidance, the bird drone hovers and maneuvers, streaming real-time footage from various areas directly to the mini screen in her hands.
Lemme see... There are three exit corridors for spectators leaving the arena, and they all come with identity verification systems.
Five cameras positioned at different angles, which leaves virtually no blind spots... And several guide robots are permanently stationed in the area, too.
I can't get footage of what's beyond that point, but I'm guessing... once you get through that corridor, that should be the exit. There's no way they'd have surveillance cameras outside.
Serra mutters to herself as she studies the footage, ignoring Uncle Roko's incoming call on her personal terminal. When the call persists with no sign of stopping, she finally gives in and answers.
Hey, Uncle Roko, cut me some slack, will ya...
No, you cut me some slack here! Where the hell did you run off to?! The management system has already flagged you three times for overdue work orders!!!
Holy moly, easy there, my ears are about gonna pop!
Uh... I'm just testingDlook, I'm in the miDDle of something important, okay? We can talk about those work orders when I get back. Bye!
One more thing, and it's importantDDid you take apart my work drone?
You troublemaker! What in the world are you up to now?!
Uh... well... Hello? Hello? Hey, what was that? Sorry, I can't hear you...
Hello? Connection's really bad on my end...
Serra puts on a show of responding while deliberately tapping her terminal to create fake static noises, then promptly ends the call.
Alright, back to work!
She pulls out an intricately designed chip from her toolbox, gestures for Hammer to come closer, and installs it onto Hammer.
That should do it. If everything goes right, this will completely block the identity recognition signals at the exit.
Hammer, I need you to leave through that exit we just saw, go to the main entrance, then come straight back the same way. Don't do anything else and stay absolutely silent—got it?
(The indicator light blinks slowly and rhythmically.)
Well, this disguise is the best I could manage... You should pass for a dog, more or less!
Anyway, looks don't really matter—this anti-interference chip is the star of the day. With this, those mechanical guides won't be able to tell what you really are.
Serra examines Hammer with its new pet dog disguise. The camouflage is obviously crude, but it's the best she could cobble together with her limited resources.
The identity-blocking chip and disguise camouflage are precisely what Serra has been secretly developing as her "secret plan."
She's kept this secret tightly under wraps, not breathing a word of it to anyone—not even to Uncle Roko.
Serra isn't certain where Uncle Roko's loyalties lie. Instead of taking the risk of having her plan exposed, she's decided to go through with it first on her own and only bring him up to speed on everything when she's ready to get out of here.
This, at the same time, would help to keep Uncle Roko innocent if her plan ever falls apart.
Under Serra's command, Hammer embarks on an adventure with an uncertain path ahead.
Through the bird drone's camera feed, Serra watches Hammer move silently along. The spectators, still absorbed in the aftermath of the match, pay no attention to the little machine hugging the walls.
It creeps closer to the identity scanner. When a cluster of spectators passes through the checkpoint, Hammer seizes the opportunity and successfully slips through behind them.
Yes! Breakthrough successful! Now you've just got to...
Before she finishes what she has to say, several guide robots suddenly appear on her screen, surround Hammer, and corner it.
(The indicator light flashes frantically.)
No—p-please, don't! Don't hurt it!
But there's nothing she can do. Moments later, her screen shows only a scattered heap of parts, occasionally spitting sparks, where Hammer once was. The hurrying spectators pass by, completely oblivious to the scene.
Lower Level, Staff Quarters
Everett Arena
Everett Arena, Lower Level, Staff Quarters.
Several hours after her "secret reconnaissance mission" ended in failure, Serra sits dejectedly in her room as she stares at the disassembled remains of Hammer.
Quietly, she takes the tools Uncle Roko hands her from across the table and carefully tries to piece together the scattered components, one by one.
I'm not gonna be able to cover your tracks if you pull a stunt like this again. I spent half the day arguing with Overseer until the big guy finally believed you were just running an experiment to test the sensitivity of the identification system...
What kind of harebrained scheme were you thinking of? Did you really think you even had a chance of... Forget it!
And another thing—would it kill you to give me a heads-up before you take my stuff?
Looking irritated, Uncle Roko holds up the mechanical bird drone.
That's because... I tried to reach you before I borrowed it, but I couldn't get through... and I really love this thing, so...
Well, you can have it, then. Today's your birthday, isn't it?
Yay! Thank you, Uncle Roko!
Roko hands the mechanical bird drone to Serra and takes on a serious look.
Why did Overseer dock all your work hours yesterday? And you're bruised all over... What happened to you exactly?
If you're in trouble, you need to tell me. Don't shut me out like I'm some stranger.
I-it's nothing...
Serra pretends nothing is wrong as she looks down and fiddles with the mechanical bird drone, avoiding Roko's gaze entirely.
Kid, I can always tell when you're lying. The moment you can't look me in the eye is the moment I know you're hiding something!
Hide all you want, but I know what happened. I saw your overtime logs from that day. You were delayed at that... Veron... whatever it's called. That place with the long-tailed mechanoid.
Her name is Veronica! Not just some "long-tailed mechanoid"!
And she's my friend. It's really rude of you to talk about her like that...
...
The moment Serra realizes she's given herself away, she knows it's too late to take back her words. Sheepishly, she sits back down.
But once Serra starts talking, she finds it impossible to stop. In one breath, she pours all her heart out.
I don't know why, but the moment I saw her, I just felt this connection with her.
Part of it might be because she's this strong, cool big sister type. Whenever I see her, I can't help but admire her.
But more importantly... I feel like she has this certain... how should I put it? I guess it's that "courage to rebel."
Whenever Overseer shows up, I'm too scared to even speak. All the other mechanoids fall in line, too. But Veronica? She actually has the guts to stand up to it. That's just incredible.
Anyway... I guess she's got "something" that I don't. I'm nothing but a coward who's too afraid to do anything I want to do. But when I'm with her, I feel this strange sense of safety.
I know this sounds a bit weird, but that's honestly how I feel...
Looking embarrassed, Serra bows her head with a blush.
...
Roko stares at Serra, looking as though he's looking at some weird creature he's having trouble making sense of.
Nope, you don't have a fever... Bet it's all the overtime, then?
Irritated, Serra swats away the old man's hand as he tries to check her temperature. She puts away her mechanical bird and continues her desperate attempts to repair the battered pieces of Hammer.
You know what. You can talk to my hand from now on.
Sigh. Look, I know times are tough, but... could you please stop being such a child?
Those metal things... these mechanoid gladiators, no matter how powerful they are in battle or how well they can communicate with humans, they're not "people," Serra. They can't be your "friends."
Let's be real—they're just slightly more advanced versions of smart vehicles or household robots. How do you fail to see that when you work with them every day?
Open one up and what do you find? Just parts and chips and whatnot. When they break, you fix them. When they're obsolete, you replace them. How is that anything like a human being?
They might be friendly today, but after a module upgrade tomorrow? They could suddenly see you as an enemy.
But you, kid, you go around treating them like "people," spending all that time repairing and upgrading them, and saying nonsense like "I hope they can all fight their way to freedom..."
Look, I'm being real here. If I were you, I'd do the bare minimum just to get by with those repair jobs the system assigns us... Kid, can't you take care of yourself for once? Cough, cough...
C'mon, why are you always so negative? I'll say it again—they. Are. My. FRIENDS!
At least I'm not like a certain boring old dude who spends his free time trading work hours for cigarettes and booze, then stands around criticizing everyone else...
At that moment, Hammer, now fully repaired and coming back to life, regains functionality. The robot's indicator light blinks a few times, signaling that it is now in normal operating mode.
(Bumps against Roko's leg with moderate force.)
See that? They're nothing like those "emotionless machines" you keep talking about.
Alright, alright, Hammer, time to behave yourself. Go back to your charging station.
(Returns to the charging station and enters sleep mode.)
Sigh. Forget all this nonsense... You know how many work hours you're behind already... Cough, cough...!!
The old man can't speak anymore. He clutches his chest and wheezes violently, his face growing contorted with pain by the second.
Oh no! Hang on, Uncle Roko... Let me get you your med!
Serra rushes to Roko's bag to find the medicine bottle she's retrieved for him countless times before—and yet there is nothing in it when she picks it up.
Along with the empty medicine bottle, Roko's terminal tumbles out. The red text showing his work hour debt is painfully glaring—a number so astronomical it's clearly impossible to repay in one lifetime.
Uncle Roko, what the hell have you been up to?!
Cough... I didn't... have... cough, cough... enough work hours left to get more...
Just get me... some water... cough, cough... That'll do...
Having drunk some water, Roko starts feeling better. Serra, however, has never seen him as sad as he is now.
We gotta do something about this, Uncle Roko! Let me use my work hours to get you some painkillers!
It's fine... I'm used to it. Even if it hurts... it won't hurt for long... I ain't got too much time left anyway...
Heh... that sounds kinda nice if you think about it... I'll be free from being a slave in no time...
This old bag of bones doesn't matter anymore... But you... you're still so young... You shouldn't waste your whole life here...
Listen to me... Stop obsessing over those mechanoids, and don't... don't give Overseer any excuse to dock your work hours...
While you're still young... get out of here... as soon as you can...
And don't... waste your work hours... on this useless old man...
...
Neither Serra nor Roko can bear to continue this heartbreaking conversation, leaving the room suspended in a thick, suffocating silence.
I don't understand... Why do they treat us like this? Those people in charge...
Look at your condition, Uncle Roko! And they're still trying to squeeze every last drop out of you. It's beyond cruel!
When I was little, everyone said Everett's founder was a kind man who ran the organization with perfect order and gave to charities everywhere.
Just when in the world did this place become a place like this...
There's a lot you don't understand, kid. This world... it was never meant to make sense to someone your age.
I read the news. Everette's original founder died from a terminal illness many years ago. Nobody even knows who's really in charge now.
Could be some distant relative of the old founder, or maybe some butler or servant who wormed their way up. In corporations big and small, this kind of crap isn't anything new...
Whoever it is, they're scum—letting that scumbag of a mechanoid run this hellhole. Overseer is cruel to humans and machines alike.
We might be "mechanics" that do maintenance for those mechanoids, but... in the end, how are we any different from them?
Heh... If I'd struck it rich back then, I'd be sitting in those stands like all the other spectators throwing around wads of cash on bets.
Instead of rotting away like a "criminal" who's locked underground and counting my days down...
Sigh. I'm starting to understand why you want to "make friends" with those mechanoids. When you're trapped in a hopeless place like this, who wouldn't want someone to talk to?
What's your friend's name again... Veronica, right? I saw her season stats. Bet she's quite the fighter.
You've talked about her so much. I'd like to meet her myself someday.
Uncle Roko...
Sigh... Forget it. I brought this upon myself, and there is nothing I can do but surrender to whatever comes next.
Alright, alright, enough of that! Talking about these things only drives away your luck!
Let's look at the bright side. Whoever's running this place now might one day decide to write off all our debts when they've made enough money, right?!
Hey—once I'm out, I'm sure I'll be able to make a fortune as a professional mechanic! Every mechanical company out there would be fighting to hire me.
Within two years, I'd save enough for a house and car, bring my wife and kids back home, and make up for everything they've been through!
And you... you could go to school, travel the world, and make tons of new friends!
Uncle Roko slaps his knees with forced cheerfulness, his voice rising several pitches higher as though trying to chase away the invisible storm clouds hanging over his head.
Seeing Uncle Roko all cheered up now, Serra can't help but smile softly as she imagines those days of freedom she's seen countless times in her dreams.
Alright, you should get some rest. We've got plenty of work waiting for us tomorrow.
As Uncle Roko rises to his feet mid-sentence, a small, unremarkable object falls from his pocket—something he fails to notice.
Serra quickly bends down to retrieve it for him, but when she gets a clear look at the object, her eyes widen in surprise.
Uncle Roko, you dropped something... Wait, isn't this the latest version of the storage component? I've been requesting one forever, but they never approved it. How did you...
Roko suddenly snatches it back from her hands, a fleeting look of panic flashing across his face.
Oh, uh... this is... something I traded points for with one of the "senior staff."
Your old uncle's memory isn't what it used to be. I just... use it to jot down a few things... you know...
...
Roko quickly stuffs the object back into his pocket and turns to leave, but he doesn't take his usual path toward his quarters.
Uncle Roko... wait!
Hey, Uncle Roko, where are you going? Isn't your room the other way?
Oh! Right, right, right! See, my memory obviously doesn't serve me anymore. Haha... Well then, goodnight. Get some rest.
Just before Uncle Roko disappears around the corner, he casts a glance back at her—a look filled with emotions Serra has never seen in him before.
Contentment, acceptance, trust, reluctance... and even, perhaps, a hint of guilt.
She suddenly realizes that Roko—who she used to find tall and strong—appears to have thinned and walks with a hunch.
