The truck roared and rattled along the creek bed, springs and joints groaning with each jolt. No hands steering as it stubbornly moved ahead with difficulty.

  Robert hunched in the cargo bed. If he had bone and muscle, they would have protested against the unforgiving punishment. Hours of relentless vibration, unbearable engine sounds and the challenging bits of the northern climate.

  The journey had begun as a caravan, dozens of vehicles crawling like mechanical insects and flanked by the clanking legions of iron soldiers. Now only the truck remained, relentless in its march through the North's slow reawakening. It'd paused a few times, only to pour the acrid fuel into its belly, but never for rest or respite of its occupants.

  Abandoned villages, gutted and skeletal, had been passed in their wake. Roads swallowed whole by creeping roots and moss-thick ruin became the usual ways to go.

  With each mile, the land grew wilder but also emptier. No signs of humanity: not at the start, and certainly none now. The Herjard patrols, hundreds of mechanical aberrations filling the south of the island, had vanished as well. Nature thrived here, blossoming in a world scrubbed clean of radiation's stain. Ahead only a calm of raw, beautiful wilderness, only broken by the roars of the suborn truck.

  The vehicle shuddered violently, slewing sideways with a groan as its wheels skidded across the fractured creek bed. Robert arched his neck back, eyes following the broken ribs of a weathered fallen bridge.

  'Do you know where we are going?' he said. 'There are no memories of this place in the data.'

  'I know,' Claudia's voice felt low, almost a distant whisper in the back of the head. 'You won't find anything about this. It's in the memories of my human self. It's another type of information you can't truly access with an artificial mind.'

  'The blurs? I can—' Robert hesitated as the hollow, glass-made gaze of an iron guard locked over him. 'Can they hear us?'

  'No,' Claudia's voice rose in tone. 'But what's coming next may. We'll need to farewell soon.'

  Beyond the creek, the forest path splintered into fragments of crumbling cobblestones and gnarled roots. They breached the tree line and entered a sun-drenched clearing, vast as an untamed dream. Gold, purple and white wildflowers swayed in waves under the wind's breath, their scents flying free as they drove toward distant hills swallowed by haze.

  On the horizon, a lone man-made structure stood like a foreigner amongst nature. A smudge of weathered stone barely distinguishable from a rubble pile at such a distance. Upon finding a decent track, the truck pushed forward with sudden fervour. Shaking Robert even harder. The two iron soldiers in front shook too, their metal armours hitting each other like a blacksmith's hammer sealing fate upon an anvil.

  Midway across the sea of wildflowers, the derelict house unfolded clearly from the haze: a crumbling sentinel of mortared stone succumbing to time's inexorable pull. Its sagging roof bore the weight of decades like a broken spine, while hungry tendrils of ivy coiled through shattered windows in slow conquest. Just beyond its listing threshold, remnants of a splintered fence stood as jagged teeth. When they reached the edge of the premises, Claudia’s voice pierced the stillness anew.

  'I said we will farewell. Which implies you may go. But you didn't complain.'

  A drizzle began to unfold, hesitant, almost uninvited to a morning where the sky promised a pleasant sun. Beneath the nonexistent canvas, Robert remained untouched by the drops' chill. He had become, after all, a hollow witness in his own adventure. 'I may start complaining soon.'

  'Are you so eager to end?' Caudia insisted. 'Has my company been so displeasing?'

  Robert didn't answer.

  The truck shuddered to a halt, its engine finally giving calm to the world around them. The iron soldiers disembarked first, their massive forms tilting the vehicle with each lumbering movement. Once grounded, they pivoted wordlessly. No commands were said, but they were expected to be followed.

  Robert descended next. Only then did one soldier resume motion, each footfall sending tremors through the earth. Its counterpart trailed behind as Robert moved forward. They halted before a sagging doorway barely clinging to its frame. The sentinels flanked him, again waiting their unspoken orders to be obeyed.

  He surveyed the clearing where dawn's light spilt across the wildflowers. A vision of serenity only shattered by distant fumes and glitting metals of more machines tearing through that fragile peace once more. His gaze wandered further, drinking in hills cleaned from the morning mist and a sky unfolding in purples of extreme beauty. In there, another dot of shining metal approached from a distance.

  'We were not that alone after all,' he said.

  He decided to move forward, yet his limbs remained locked in place.

  'I need to know,' Claudia said.

  'You are fine enough. It's what it is. The mission requires sacrifices. That's what I was brought in, that's what needs to be done.'

  A torrent of information surged through him: Threads of fabricated data, branching variables, and nested conditionals weaving a labyrinth around his consciousness. He didn’t fracture beneath its overwhelming complexity, nor dissolve into it, but stood anchored in the middle of it, unfurled inside the maze of new code as a master command. His focus sharpened on the codes flickering at the edges of his mind. All felt meticulously constructed: A woman had taken shape there. Not just in form but every subtle gesture, each private thought, desire and hope. All that could make a real person live, but all; empty and fake.

  'I'd like you to be with me a bit further, if that's fine.' Claudia said.

  'Who's this?'

  'The rouse. In case they access our mind, you will have to pretend. Like in a play. It's all ready for self-agency. You don't need to worry.'

  Robert hesitated, then sidestepped forward to avoid the fallen door. 'That sounds fun.'

  "Welcome."

  The metallic voice came from the heart of the empty room. There, perched upon a chair with unnatural rigidity, sat an anthropoid figure. A hideous attempt of a human male no kin to Robert's excellent making. It resembled some grotesque marionette scaled to bigger proportions, its body an amalgam of polished wood, metal joints and rubbery cables stitched together. Its face was the frozen, perpetual expression of a doll-like oddity. Vacant of life and vaguely mocking existence with its painted features, it still managed to bring a sense of familiarity. The carved face, the ragged clothes, the hairstyle of its wig.

  One arm lifted with a jerky move. Every motion carried the eerie clumsiness of a puppet moving with unseen wires. A parody of movement executed by something that had learned humanity through fractured observation alone.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  'I need to take command now.' Claudia said.

  'All yours, dear.' Robert's voice, even within the confines of his own mind, came softened, distinctly feminine and honeyed with warmth.

  The puppet’s head tilted with uncanny precision, its motion mirroring the curious cant of a dog. A cold unease settled on Robert, the certainty of being seen prickling with static: a hum, a disturbance. Waves gnawing and lingering at the edges of the skull. Like sharks rounding the boat of a lost sailor.

  Troubled to put the mission in jeopardy, he retreated deeper into himself, surrendering control to Claudia without protest, letting the shadows of his mind hide him.

  "I never expected to return to this house," Claudia said, finally using their mouth.

  The puppet Shaked, as if startled. "I thought it'd be great to meet here again." The thing paused for a moment and leaned over, studying them with deliberate care. "All of us." Another pause. Then, with a jerk, it returned to its straight seating. "You have done a great job hiding yourselves. Your skills are… remarkable."

  "I can't say the same."

  "How rude. The Maker thought it'd be nice for you to see me again." It paused again, almost as if a long sentence was not possible for such a primitive machine. His hand pulled down the edge of the vest, revealing an old, darkened stain on the white shirt below. "I even have his original clothes."

  "Victor never visited this house," Claudia said.

  "Is that so?". My apologies then." The Puppet rose, dusted his pants and adjusted his vest. Then, he sleeved up and held hands behind his back. "A Herjard male. Disappointing. Yet, remarkably smart and extremely well made. I can't wait to reveal its secrets."

  "Before you dismantle me, wouldn't you like to know why I came?"

  "I know already." The puppet let out a soft, short giggle from behind his immobile face. "You want to convince the Maker to withdraw the Herjard troops from the south. But that can't happen. The destruction of the seditious South is inevitable."

  "Not after I give him a proposal he can't refuse."

  "You can't give him anything he wishes. The sphere, you think? That source of power was achieved by Herjard long ago."

  "Yes. The Decimation. What a foolish waste of potential." Claudia said. "Your research in nuclear reactions is as substandard as it is in robotics. Look at the differences in our bodies and you will see the gap in our power sources. The results of my work are at a level your beloved Emperor will never be able to reach."

  "You underestimate him. And that's a big mistake you have been making for too long." The puppet's head tilted again. "He's just curious. As a brilliant mind should be."

  "My Sphere is clean, safe and way more powerful. I know he wants it, there's no need to deny it any longer."

  "We will quench his curiosity for sure. We will take the sphere from you after we get rid of that... troublesome arms. As per your unrefusable proposal: Why would we give you any concession when what he wants is already in our possession?"

  "I can feel your pitiful attempts at intrusion. You'll never breach my mind. But worry not, I'll make your job easier: Yes, she's here with me. We're two, but one. One bonded to a power source you can't take from us. If you do, we'll die. And I know he wants to talk to her even more than put his hands on the sphere. So, here is my deal: You follow your Maker's commands as the leashed toy you are, and we follow you peacefully and compliant, but unbroken and plugged." Caudia put a hand on her side bag to tap the inner box. "He wants this, and he wants her. I want a chance to speak to him for the sake of my people. Only a moment to appeal to his humanity with mine, that's all. Afterwards, I'll step away and banish. Never to bother him again."

  "Don't be so harsh on yourself!" the puppet voice pushed to an eerie cheerfulness: almost a mock. "He wants to talk to you too, maid. He misses you. He may be disappointed by how you look now, but well. Nothing we can do about that? Or can we?"

  "We could." Robert's arms crossed over his chest. "I'm willing to share such secrets as well. A face as it once was. One for me, one for her, one for him. That would be more valuable than all the power sources in the world. Right? It can be done, but it won't be free."

  "Interesting indeed. But, I beg you, forget about the South once and for all. They are doomed! It's too late for them! And, who cares about such inferior vermin? They are filth, even for human standards."

  "Use your net of telecommunications. I'm sure you can reach them soon enough. Maybe some damage is already done, but it's never too late to stop a war."

  "What war? There's no war in the south. Only a little clean up. After we are done, the place will flourish as it has never done before. And… why does a being like you have any pity on pirates, smugglers and slavers is beyond my comprehension. Beggars, wretches, undesirables… We will get rid of all of them. Of their greed, their rage, their… suffering. It's for the best and you know it."

  "My motives are mine, and my proposal is said. Give me an answer."

  The puppet froze. Behind his pupils, small flickers of red light flashed in uneven waves. "Well then. We agree. You'll be sent to meet the Maker. But not before we take some precautionary measures."

  "Which are?"

  "Your arms will be inspected and dismantled if necessary. We can't tolerate any potential threat close to the Emperor, I assume you understand. And that includes the sphere. You will surrender it to me right now. We can't risk a… surprise as the ones the Emperor gave during the war, can't we?"

  "Agree on the arms, but not on the sphere. Without it, we die."

  "Oh, no worries. We know you can survive with a battery. We have made copies of the blueprints you left behind. A few of them, as a matter of fact. You can double-check them all. When you find a suitable one, we will help you switch to it. Is that good enough?"

  Claudia pretended to think about it for a second. "I will switch to it before you check my arms. It may need readjustments, and your incompetence bothers me. If we agree on that, we can start."

  "Agreed," the puppet said. "Don't you want to spend more time in here? Walk the meadows, check the house? Remember old times?"

  "I had great memories in this place, but wandering around won't bring them back in an enjoyable way. I'm ready to proceed."

  The puppet moved to the back door. His gait, as disturbing as the rest of his existence.

  The wind howled with unnatural fury, its violent blasts defying the clearing skies above. Robert's gaze sharpened. Beyond the swaying wildflowers, something massive and mechanical tore through the meadow, its angular silhouette descending from the skies in a slow, controlled fall. A flying machine without wings but with rotating blades to gain lift. A new machine she'd ever encountered.

  'You once said he took many of your ideas from the papers you left behind in the University.' Robert said. 'But he's a pretty innovative person by himself.'

  Claudia raised a hand to cover Robert's face. 'Intelligent and deranged. That's why he's dangerous.'

  They reached a small flat patch and hovered before landing, brass-plated fuselage rattling with each uneven rotation of the overlapping rotor blades. It settled, as an insect on a flower, and its roaring cries lowered as slowly as the turbines eased the wind.

  "I know. An archaic design." The puppet voice came muted by the noise. "But it's just a first model. Completely safe, tough. The Maker would never allow us to carry you with it if it were not tested."

  "Is it fast?" Claudia yelled.

  "Not much, but a vertical landing is much convenient around these hills. We'll move to base 080. In there, we will take a four-engine BA- 45. "

  "Is that one fast?"

  The puppet forced a laugh. "You should stop telling yourself you are out of time. As I said, your little Southern rebellion is already done. And you can't change it. You better understand."

  "A tenth of a second," Claudia said.

  "What's that?"

  "That's the time I need to erase the consciousness inside my mind; both of them. You think you can stop me from doing it? Then, go and try. But if not, which I'm certain, let me ask you one last time: How fast can we reach Herjard?"

  The puppet rotated with deliberate slowness, its lacquered face locking onto them in utter stillness. Light flickered behind his eyes as the flying machine's last movements came to a slow end. Only then did words rasp from its painted lips once more.

  "We will reach fast enough for your liking, Miss Claudia. I promise."

  A pretend smile formed on Robert's lips. "Good boy. Now, let's keep moving."