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Impulse knew he’d made his last mistake, even before he turned around.
He had just entered the room, the door slightly ajar, with the plan to look around. Skizz had to be somewhere around here, right?
Unfortunately, it wasn‘t Skizz who was hiding in that room. Impulse realized that too late, as he turned around on his stubby robot legs, facing directly into the barrel of the gun.
He didn‘t scream, that much is to say to save his honor. But the gap where his head was attached, something that could be read as a mouth would a robot have the need for one, trembled a little.
Apparently that slight clatter was enough. Impulse didn‘t even register it, really. He didn‘t hear the sound. The barrel of the gun lit up momentarily and Impulse realized this would be his last moment.
Until then their mission hadn‘t been going too bad.
It was their third as a team, not that that said anything. Mission success didn‘t really have anything to do with how skilled the robots were. It was mainly a stroke of luck whether or not you would run into the worst monsters immediately, or if you could get most of the valuables out before even seeing one.
Frankly, Impulse had seen both.
Or, no, wait, he hadn’t. This was only his third mission…
He must have been misremembering something he learned. Maybe an information update he got?
Anyway.
Their third mission had started easy enough. Not many monsters around. Even though easy was always relative in a team like theirs…
Honestly Impulse was surprised it took all of five minutes until the first fight broke out.
Gem had just shown him her new wings, which she got as an update after their last mission.
“Did you see me?“ she asked, getting up from the floor just as Impulse walked into the room.
Guilt pooled where his chest would have been, would he have been human. Which he wasn‘t, clearly. But somehow, the emotion still snuck through.
“Oh, no, sorry,“ he said softly, turning towards her. „I haven‘t.“
“Impulse,“ Gem screeched, clearly disappointed. Then, smaller, as if talking to herself she added: „My dad doesn’t love me.“
Her legs trippled a bit, as if she was unsure what to do. Then the voice from her modulator cheered up. „I‘ll just do it again! Look at me, now!“
Struggling to reach it with her short legs and arms Gem managed to climb one of the crates and from there on top of one of the shelf boards.
“Are you looking?“ she yelled down, peeking over the edge. Her voice modulator frazzled and pitched in excitement, making Impulse‘s core buzz with fondness.
“Yes I am looking!“ he confirmed.
Without another word she disappeared from view, leaving Impulse to stare up at the shelf for only a few seconds. Then she reappeared, the fairy wings on her back softly glowing in a similar faded pink as the paint of her shell.
She sailed through the air, a little wobbly at points, before crashing down with a loud clanking noise.
Impulse waited for her to stand up again, arms pointlessly scrambling over the rough flooring for a moment, before he praised: „I saw it, that was very good, Gem!“ His voice took that soft edge again as he said it. Skizz had made fun of him for it, only to turn around and use the same voice while talking to their youngest team member.
No, wait, she wasn’t the youngest. They were robots, all created at the same time.
Impulse shook his head, as if getting rid of an annoying buzz.
He was about to say something else to Gem, who was standing in front of the doorway, looking very pleased with herself now that she had shown off her new wings, when Grian came barreling through the doorway.
The cart in front of him not only cut an edge in both sides of the doorway, it also crashed into Gem, sending her flying again with a warbling screech.
“Grian,“ Impulse scolded, underlining his feelings with some angry steps.
“Oops, sorry,“ Grian provided, not sounding sorry at all.
“Grian!“ Gem shrieked as well, getting up from behind the crate she got catapulted onto.
“I said I‘m sorry,“ Grian whined, redirecting the cart. He parked it on one of the walls and started looking around the room.
Gem gave a dramatic sigh, looking between Impulse and Grian as if expecting something.
Impulse answered in his best attempt of a shrug, which was harder than expected without shoulders to carry the motion.
“Did any of you see Skizz?“ he asked instead.
Grian looked up from the pocket watch he was balancing down from one of the shelfs. „I saw him just a minute ago, I think he was looking for the extraction,“ he provided, before focusing on the trinket again.
“You are unbelievable,“ Gem muttered. She squeezed past Impulse to get out of the door without another comment.
Grian ignored her, but his movement went a little more rigid.
Again, Impulse prepared to say something, when he got interrupted. This time, though, it wasn’t someone running over their own teammates, it was a panicked scream from one of the rooms further into the warehouse.
Grian sighed. An exasperated sound that confirmed Impulse’s first assumption. Still, without a second thought he turned around and started towards the sound. He heard Grian follow behind him.
The museum they were clearing out was rather twisted at points, so Impulse had to stop several times, unsure where to go. Every time he did, Grian completely ignored him, barreling through the doors, leaving Impulse no choice but to follow him.
Another panicked scream sounded, this time way closer, just as they rounded a corner. A gunshot followed shortly after, making Grian stop and Impulse run into him with a soft clank.
Grian didn’t turn around to avoid making any more noise, but Impulse could imagine what kind of look he was wearing. Silently he was glad the red robot didn't turn around.
After a few seconds of silence Grian took another step. “Scar?”, he hissed.
No one answered.
With a nervous scuttle, Impulse looked up and down the hallway, staring into the dark corners as if determination would make any difference. The walls, once probably white, were grayed and at some points smeared with something that Impulse believed to be dark paint. Or maybe dirt. Definitely not blood or motor oil.
“Is he in there?” Impulse whispered, as Grian didn’t attempt to go further.
“Scar!” Grian hissed again, a little louder.
Still no answer.
Grian made a little step, as if bracing himself, then he hopped through the doorway.
Another scream, another gunshot, and Impulse was close to throw himself into hiding when he heard Grian’s angry screaming, warbling by the way his loudspeaker couldn’t hold the volume. “Scar, what are you doing?” he demanded.
Scar’s answer was high-pitched and just as loud. “You scared me, Grian!”
That’s when Impulse decided to also enter the room.
“Okay, what's going on?” he said, stepping around the corner, trying to sound at least a little authoritative.
“Scar shot me!”, Grian accused. He didn’t even care to turn around, just staring angrily at Scar who had shrunken down under the intense attention.
“You scared me,” he repeated flatly.
Impulse sighed. Or rather, his loudspeakers mimicked the sound usually connected to exasperation. Scar, if possible, shrunk even further. Immediately Impulse felt bad. He didn’t mean it like that, actually. He was more exhausted than anything else, surely not blaming the orange robot for being scared, and maybe a little bit annoyed with Grian’s attitude today.
He didn’t know what else to say though, so he decided to change the subject. “What’s that?” With one stubby arm he pointed towards the glowing purplish orb behind Scar. Of course he knew what it was.
“Oh yeah,” Scar turned around as best as he could while shrunken down. “The baby head came in here and scared me, earlier.”
“You killed the baby head?” Grian sounded on guard about it, maybe a little impressed even.
“With my gun, yeah,” Scar answered, almost flustered.
If robots could blush, Impulse was sure Scar would have done so.
“Good job!” he praised. “You should get the soul orb to the cart then, Scar!”
“Oh, yes, I should!” With a metallic pop Scar extended himself to his usual height again. He shuffled over to the orb, to pick it up deliberately. Grian observed him for a moment, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I’ll help you,” he offered. Then he seemed to decide that this definitely sounded too soft, because he added: “To make sure you won’t mess this up as well.”
Scar seemed to have overheard the shade in his voice, because his voice was light and beaming as he answered: “Oh, thank you G!”
They left the room, leaving Impulse behind, slightly shaking his head and forcing himself to not let out another sigh.
He took a quick look at his map. Looking for Scar they had advanced quite far into the twisted maze of rooms, and he still had no idea where Skizz was.
Not that he had any reason to look for him, other than making sure his fellow robot was alive. For some reason Impulse felt like he should make sure.
Skizz had been looking for an extraction, right?
Impulse turned left, turned right, and eventually decided to follow the hallway further down.
And that’s where his big mistake lay. He should have just trusted Skizz to hold his own, should have just stayed with the others collecting valuables. He should have done so many other things but instead he rounded the corner, looking exactly into the barrel of a gun.
The small clatter of fear was enough to alert the blind man to his presence, the gun barrel lit up, and his sensors went static.
Skizz had spent the whole of their job scouting for extraction points, avoiding monsters and lifting heavy valuables from shelves for easy collection. So naturally he didn’t really have a good overview of what was happening with the rest of his team.
That, in all means of the word, didn’t sit right with him.
Still, he wanted to find the second extraction before he made his way back to go check on everyone. Knowing his surroundings was the first step to actually keep his team safe. Something that almost felt hard coded into his consciousness.
If, of course, a robot had something like consciousness in the first place. Skizz liked to believe he had.
He wasn’t sure why he cared so much for his team members. Even before their first mission he had felt the tightness where his chest would be if he was a human, whenever one of them was in danger. He had felt the guilt pooling behind his metal cage whenever one of them got destroyed and he couldn’t prevent it. It didn’t make sense, really. To care so deeply for robots he had never met, but also, Skizz was no one to disregard his gut feelings, so he just rode with it.
Deep in thought he almost missed the big smiley face that signaled the deactivated extraction point.
“Yeah babyyy,” he cheered.
Skizz entered the room with a little celebratory jump, activating the point with no further delay. The loud alarm buzz was music in his ears, if he had any ears of course, but even now he had a little skip in his step as he made his way back to the entrance. His team should be there still, collecting valuables for the first checkpoint.
He had barely left the corridor when he heard the distant sound of arguing. He rounded the corner, just in time to get hit with the cart.
With a loud metallic clank Skizz found himself propelled backwards. He let out a warbled scream, before another loud clunk cut him short as he bounced off the wall.
“Careful,” he accused. “What was that for?”
“Oh my gosh,” Scar rounded the cart, his voice dripping with anxiety. “I’m sorry Skizz I didn't see you there!”
Grian hopped onto the cart, cackling loudly. “That was great, Scar!”
Skizz grumbled as he got back up. That was easier said than done, since his short arms and stubby legs weren’t really any help. Scar on the other hand only stood there, shifting his weight and staring at Skizz with a sorry expression.
“Don’t mention it, Scarface,” Skizz sighed. Then he took a look at the cart. “Looks like you guys are good to go for the checkpoint, good job!”
Skizz noticed how Scar seemed to get a bit taller under the praise, while Grian just stared at him, thinking.
“Yeah, we’re heading there,” Grian finally answered, with a voice too small for what Skizz had expected. “We’re just checking if anyone needs revival…” he hesitated. “We haven’t seen Impulse or Gem in a while.”
Skizz felt his core grow cold in worry. Still, he tried to sound reassuring as he answered: “Good thinking, how about you get the cart to the first extraction and I collect Gemstone and Dipple Dop?”
Scar turned to Grian, as if waiting for him to decide. Grian on the other hand shifted as if he was unsure about this. Looking at him, Skizz got the gnawing feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.
“Alright,” Grian finally said. Carefully, as if the words could cut him if they were said too fast. “Come on Scar”
They left towards the entrance, the argument not picking back up. Somehow Skizz felt a chill creep over his metal casing. It wasn’t logical or possible for him to feel the temperature, still he felt as if someone had turned air conditioning far too high.
For a moment he stared after the two robots, then he made himself move again. Towards the doorway they had come from.
It didn’t take him long to find Gem. He might have missed it, if he hadn’t been looking for her. But when he entered one of the hallways he heard a small clatter. Metal on metal, like a trembling robot.
Skizz looked around, but the hallway seemed clear.
“Gem?” he whispered. When there was no answer, he tried it louder. “Gem? Gemstone? Are you here?”
The clatter stopped and for a second nothing happened, then one of the cupboard doors on the end of the corridor opened.
“Skizz?”
Gem’s voice was small and scared, in a way that made Skizz's chest tighten. He wanted nothing more than to have her be tucked away in the truck and leave this place.
But that wasn’t an option so he shrunk himself and squeezed into the cupboard.
“Gemmy Bemmy,” he said, his voice almost breaking with care. “Hey, everything okay?”
Gem stared at him for a moment, before she said: “Yes, I’m ok.”
It sounded way too small to be genuine.
“What’s your health at?” Skizz prodded. If possible, Gem shrunk more. “I’m at two,” she whispered.
Again, the tightness threatened to crush Skizz. “Oh,” he said. “It’s okay, turn around, I’ll give you some of mine.”
Gem hesitated, probably about to argue that Skizz needed his HP as well, but then she turned around so Skizz could access the healthbar on her neck.
He transferred about as much as he could without getting himself into trouble.
“Feeling better?” He asked.
Gem bopped her head in a motion similar to a nod. “Thank you,” she said.
“Of course, Gemstone,” Skizz said. His voice sounded like he was smiling, even though he had no face that could do so. “I told Grian and Scar to get the cart ready at the checkpoint, maybe go join them, hm?”
“What about you?” Gem countered, the usual sharpness returning to her gaze. It was a welcome change.
“I’ll look for Impulse, then I’ll catch up with you,” Skizz promised. He waited another second, then he squeezed out of the cupboard. “I’ll be there in no time,” he promised. Then, he left to look for his only missing teammate.
Skizz was used to being alone during the jobs they’d done, he liked to check in with everyone so big chunks of his time were spent walking from one to the other, staying with them for a minute and then getting back to moving. So really, it shouldn’t bother him.
But something about this job made him grow anxious.
Maybe it was the high ceilings or the walls so devoid of color, he wasn't really sure.
“Come on, Dop, where are you,” Skizz whispered to himself as he crept around another corner. He hadn’t seen any other monster since he had activated the last extraction. Something told him they would return once they had turned the cart in.
For now, the silent chill of the empty halls was enough to give him the creeps.
Later Skizz would maybe wonder why he decided to turn into this particular room and take a look. The door was closed, the way was barricaded, no sign any robot had even passed there. But somehow he jumped over the bundled up wood even before realizing, taking the room in.
At first it was too dark to see anything, but as he turned his eyes caught the reflection of something underneath one of the shelves. A closer look proved his worries right, as he carefully picked Impulse’s severed head off the ground.
“Oh, Dipple Dop,” Skizz sighed. “Come on buddy, let’s get you back.”
For Impulse it felt like less than a second, as his main frame booted back up again and he extended himself to look over the crate. Of course he knew it was more than that.
To his surprise, he sat in the cart, right in the middle of an extraction point.
“Impusle!” he heard Gem cheer. Grian made a relieved noise, something between a sigh and a laugh.
“Good thing you’re back, Dop.” Skizz sounded like he was smiling.
“Yeah,” Impulse avoided their gaze, looking down while he got out of the cart instead. “Sorry about that guys,”
“Oh, it’s okay,” Scar said. He opened his mouth to say something else too, but Grian interrupted him with a tackle. “Both our dads are back, let's go!” With a manic cackle he picked the screaming Scar up and bolted out of the room.
“Grian,” Gem shrieked, following him with a start. “Wait for me!”
He heard Skizz sigh, and even Impulse felt a bit of amusement simmer through the guilt that was making itself at home at his core.
“Sorry,” he said again, this time looking up at Skizz. “Was stupid, to die like that, I-”
“Hey,” Skizz interrupted him softly. “No, none of that. You hear me? It happens.” He seemed to cringe a little. “Besides, sorry for not being there in the first place.”
Impulse sighed again. “You can’t always be there,” he said. “But, thanks for getting me back.”
“Always,” Skizz said and Impulse could have sworn he heard his friend smile.
But of course, robots couldn’t smile.
Another explosion sounded in the background and they both chuckled.
“Alright,” Skizz straightened up again. “Let’s get to our kids before they blow up the cart.”
“Right behind ya,” Impulse agreed. “Let’s get our kids.”