The World's Calling

Internal Data Sorter

Version 3.2.5

Assignment: For the Cataloging and Extolling of Information

Authorization: Tranquil, Seer, Falco, Jericho.

As the initial boot-up went through the needed processes and checks, the information flowed through like a roaring river. The common data sorter came equipped to simply analyze and store for later use and categorizing, a simple installation that was made for one android. This, however, … This was something entirely new. Shoa’s body was a receiver and satellite to a connected network of those who had already downloaded the installation. The range of course was limited as he could only ping the few Mechanoids who had the installation within his group but if he really focused his battery on boosting the signal, he could ping one back in Waning Rock. With the new, detailed vision given to Shoa via this program, it seemed that everything he saw was cataloged and referenced into a now available database.

“Who knew there could be so many types of Grass! So many plants… So many people! so many things!”

The information flew through his electric mind faster and faster until it seemed that his head was bursting at the seams. Of stories told by people by people long gone, creatures and plants seemed to stretch the line between static entities and kind of intelligence on a group scale. Bit by bit the information flashed in his eyes and filled his vision till he was snapped out by a small electric shock to one of his neck ports, snapping him out of the ecstasy of knowledge. As the countless popups and the text scrolls receded from his point of view, a fellow Mechanoid in front of him simply stared with a blank expression with a visor that covered where the eyes would be and a mouth plate blocking where the mouth would exist.

“Ah. Seems I became overexcited there.”

The unit did not respond as it looked at Shoa for a few seconds more before rejoining the march. Though no expression could be gleaned from the automaton, Shoa just knew that they were judging them.

From the front of the line came Diamo’s shout. “Alright greenhorns, we got eyes on Hickshaw!”

As the Group came to the summit of the hill, the town came into view and the sight was… ominous. Hacksaw was situated outside a mining town where the grass was dry, and the air was dryer. Houses on the ground floor and patched with materials that didn’t match At the very least someone would be out maintaining the space or sitting on their porch watching the day go by as the children play. Yet as the group made their way through the town, all that could be heard was the eerie sound of the wind flowing through empty houses. It was uneasy and everyone capable of feeling could feel it. Hartland called out to the group, his eyes not laying off the row of houses.

“So. Do any of you smell anything?”

In response, one of the Mechanoids scanned out into the distance, a small buzz barely audible to those of average hearing. The eyes resembled goggles that contracted and expanded as they focused over the distance, its frame was clunky and seemed to be covered with soot that wasn’t properly washed out. The body was made of old and seemingly near-to-fail material, but the head and eyes worked as brand new. Each focus of its eyes seemed to end on the houses until finally, a voice came out of it that resembled an announcer from the top of a barely functioning intercom.

“Something was in the air here. Too thin to properly identify but it's in all of the houses. Whatever happened here was finished days ago.”

Before anyone could notice, Hartland was already in the nearest house, searching and overturning everything that could be turned while not damaging a thing. As he did that, Lucia turned over to her group and to Diamo’s also. “You see the man, don’t you? Get to work!”

As the teams spread out to search the houses, they found all of them empty. Beds freshly made and A few turned-over chairs but no signs of a struggle. Each house seemed serene in its lack of presence. Each bed was freshly made, and a pan of eggs was still cold on the stove. Toys were still left in the middle of the hall. People loved and lived here and all that remained of them was the cold of their absence. To this end, all Diamo could say is

“Motherfucker. “

A swift kick was delivered to the building. What the hell happened here? He had been here a few weeks ago on a job to keep the mines secure from bandits. He had drunk with these people and fooled around with bull riding. It was a mixed-race co-op but the Vegas Brigade wouldn’t act so close to Union authority.

“He mec!” The exclamation came from a red wolf. Her eyes were steady, but her ears were perked back as she faced the mines.

“What? What is it?”

“Something atop the mountain. It smells awful up there, Something horrific.”

“Alright. What’s your name?”

“Maison, sir!.”

“Can you lead us to it?"

“That I can monsieur.”

The journey to the mines was clear, a signpost put up of rotting wood stood crooked signaling the way there. The road was cleared out and the path was apparent as they followed the scent of Maison. Yet as they kept moving, the scent became overwhelming to her and soon the rest of the group with the faculties to experience it soon found it unbearable.

At first, it was the stray stain, each of the Animalia pointing out that it was animal in nature. But soon it appeared more and more. Dried on the ground and in broad strokes. Closer.

And Closer.

A change in the air, in the stance. Maison’s muscles tensed up.

“They ran out of cattle.”

Human blood, Animalia crimson. Shed across the mountain. Bits and pieces of gore found themselves under the shoes of the group, the more sensitive among them determined not to look down to inspect what was caught under heel. Further up the mountain they went, the pieces getting more and more solid. Broken bones and bodies drained of their lives missing feet and hands. Faces contorted in a scream that would deafen the world had they the will remaining to muster the breath. Rhys had worked a job as a diener, working and moving dead bodies. This wasn’t new, but whoever did this. To men and women. To children. They only let those who went peacefully with them have a clean death. The rest below them were swarmed and beaten. Defiled. A shudder went through her body.

As they reached the top of the mountain, they found the final resting place of the populace. The mine’s entrance radiated an indescribable odor. Several humans found themselves gagging, Diamo was already bent over on his knees, both in disgust and shock. What stood in front of the entrance was the main issue. A scene of gore and violence. Blood spattered across the opening of the mine as pieces of bone marrow were strewn across the piles of defiled meat. In the center of this pile was something that seemed tantalizing in its repulsion of the senses.

It appeared to be taking in the meat and ground intestines into its overall mass through a mixture of red fleshy tubes that encircled the main pile, constantly constricting and moving. A tumor of a lifeform as the wheezes and clashing of whatever made up its internal organs as it sounds in a mix of agony and unawareness. The multiple eyes that peered out into the world seemed to only be for show as no life could be found within their glare. Only a glazed-over expression of something broken in spirit. It had no place in this world and the struggled groans it put out proved that. Shoa could barely stand to look at it. There was no intelligence or natural majesty in its occupation of space. This was not nature. This was a creation. And by the looks of it, the Creator was finished.

The group was struggling to look at it. Most of them looked away as the beast-kin covered their noses at the sight of it, the humans were struggling to repress their urge to vomit and all the Mechanoids barring Shoa could only look on in Macabre curiosity. Diamo was already hunched over a bush and Lucia was struggling to keep her face from reacting. Hartland however, was the only one to take the lead.

“Anyone who had that chip installed, time to make it work for you. Scan the thing and see if it fits.” Nothing could be divined from his voice. It was cold and to the point. The Mechs stood in silence for a brief moment. No one wanted to get anywhere close to the thing. Shoa due to the absolute horror of the thing and the others regarding it less as a travesty and more of a “cleanliness issue.”

“Step up. Now.”

The shifting of his body and the weight behind his words was enough for each Mech to move forward, albeit reluctantly. As Shoa was the last one to approach it, the scanner did all the work for him. In a Dark Blue box, it focused on the being, scrolling through what seemed like millions of images, all of them returning negative. While it had some similar suggestions, horrifying atrocities with as many images as there were grains of sand, there was nothing that matched what happened here over a 5% rate. Every Mech returned the same idea.

“This is Unique.”

With those words uttered, Harland laid some spare cloth on the grotesque being and laid his sword on it.

“Ignite.”

In an instant, what was there went up in a blaze of heat. Lucia and other group members walked away, leaving only Rhys to stare at the fire. Shoa to stare through it, and Hartland, who looked as though he was burying the body of his own father. Under the crackle of its dried skin, there was nothing anyone could say. No eulogy could put this to rest.