The path to the crevice wasn't long in distance, maybe ten or fifteen meters, but navigating it felt like crossing a minefield designed by a scrap artist with a grudge. With [Audio Dampener] active, signified by a small icon humming quietly next to his rapidly depleting Energon bar (EN: 42.5/150 and ticking down), Xen moved with exaggerated care. The skill was effective; the usual clinks and scrapes of his metal feet on the rusted surfaces were muted to faint ticks and whispers, easily lost beneath the low moan of the wind funneling through the junk canyons.
He traversed a landscape of discarded automotive skeletons, their empty engine bays like gaping mouths, and climbed over thick bundles of brittle, cracking electrical conduits. Once, his foot slipped on a patch of slick, unidentifiable residue coating a warped metal panel. He pin-wheeled his arms, his internal gyros screaming silently, managing to stay upright but landing heavily on one knee.
Another point of damage. He gritted his teeth – or the Cybertronian equivalent – frustration mixing with the constant, low-level anxiety fueled by his low energy and damaged state. This body was agile, yes, his DEX stat attested to that, but it was also fragile. Every hit point felt precious. He scanned the slick patch – [Unknown Chemical Residue - Mildly Corrosive - Avoid Prolonged Contact] – another hazard logged. He made a mental note, a process that felt like saving a file to a specific folder in his mind, to try and scan everything before touching it if possible.
As he drew closer to the crevice, the sheer scale of the two massive objects forming its entrance became clearer. One was a colossal engine block, easily three times Xen's height, cracked and stained with ancient lubricants. The other was a slab of bent, reinforced hull plating, thick as his arm was long, likely torn from some large vehicle or structure. The gap between them was narrow, perhaps just wide enough for him to walk through without turning sideways, and plunged into deep shadow. No obvious sounds emerged, save for the omnipresent wind.
He stopped a meter away from the entrance, the [Audio Dampener] still draining his precious Energon (EN: 39/150). Time to use his primary tool again. Scan the entrance. Target: inside the crevice.
The familiar blue pulse emanated, this time focusing its energy into the dark opening. Wireframes flickered within the gloom.
The scan results popped up: [Narrow Crevice - Depth Approx. 3 Meters], [Composition: Dense Ferrous Metals, Trace Silicates (Rock/Dirt)], [Atmosphere: Stable, Minimal Airflow], [Energy Signatures: Negligible], [Organic Material Detected: Trace - Non-Threatening (Inert Biological Matter - Dried Moss/Fungus?)].
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Empty. Or at least, empty of anything the basic scan registered as a threat or significant energy source. It seemed deep enough to offer concealment and relatively stable. The "Non-Threatening" organic trace was reassuring; probably just some hardy Terran life clinging to existence even here.
He used his optical sensors, zooming in slightly. His low-light vision pierced the shadows to a degree, revealing smooth, worn surfaces inside, likely rubbed clean by wind and time or previous inhabitants. It looked... safe? Safer than out here, anyway.
The need for shelter, a place to potentially assess his damage or just hide from the unknown dangers of the scrap heap, outweighed the lingering uncertainty. He had to get out of the open.
He moved to the entrance, the dampener still active. The air inside the crevice felt still, slightly cooler, and carried the scent of old, cold metal and faint dust. He stepped through the gap. It was a snug fit, his shoulders almost brushing the sides. The moment he was fully inside, the oppressive sense of exposure lessened dramatically. The wind couldn't reach him here, and the towering walls of metal offered solid protection on two sides.
Okay, safe for now. He mentally deactivated the [Audio Dampener].
<[Audio Dampener] Deactivated.>
The skill had consumed nearly 5 Energon just for that short, cautious walk. He couldn't afford to keep it running constantly. Inside the crevice, the ambient sounds of the scrap heap were muffled, distant. It was strangely peaceful.
He took a moment to just... exist. To process. He was Xen, maybe, but he was also this small machine. He was on an Earth that was simultaneously familiar and terrifyingly alien. He had a System interface only he could see, guiding him like some cosmic tutorial. He was damaged, low on energy, and hiding in a gap between giant pieces of junk. It was overwhelming.
A soft chime drew his attention back to the System interface.
Well, that was something. Not exactly fast healing, but finding this spot actually provided a tangible, if tiny, benefit. It reinforced the idea that interacting with the environment according to the System's logic yielded results. 0.1 HP per minute meant it would take... ages to fully heal, but it was better than nothing. Maybe VIT influenced this? Or perhaps specific skills or items could improve it later.
He settled down in the cramped space, leaning his back against the cool metal of the engine block. The crevice was just long enough for him to sit with his legs slightly bent. It wasn't comfortable, not in the human sense, but it was secure.
Now what? He had 60 XP towards Level 2. He needed more Energon. He needed repairs. He needed information. That [Fragmented Core Integration] skill felt like a crucial piece of the puzzle regarding his own existence, but [Effects Unknown] wasn't helpful. Could he analyze it somehow? Or did he need to meet some condition for its effects to manifest?
And then there was the question of his [Cybertronian Frame] skill mentioning [Transformation Capability - Locked]. Could he turn into something? He remembered giant robots changing shape on TV back home – cars, jets, even cassette players. Could he do that? What would someone his tiny size even turn into? A fancy drone? A tool? And the bigger question remained: how did one unlock that capability?
So many questions, so few answers. But for the first time since waking up in this metallic nightmare, Xen felt a tiny sliver of security. He was hidden. He had a minuscule amount of passive healing. He had the System. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
He decided to try the [Basic Scan] again, this time on himself. Maybe it could tell him more about the damage or that fragmented core