Swan sipped her tea, it had a faint honey flavor, but not enough to hide her shame. Emotional distress is something she thought to be part of the past, like a little child living in a cardboard box of fridge. That child still lived inside her it seemed and felt.

She took another sip, looking around from the corner of her eye. Cecil was talking with the Tech’s wife, Latch. Her blonde stands and unkempt hair reminded Swan of a bird’s nest, with her little hatchlings running around. Children some might call it, but not her. It was one of the best upsides of a same-sex relationship, not dealing with the aftermath.

The kitchen they were in was an embodiment of the chaos, toys all around, all seem to be makeshift by leftover drone equipment. She didn’t know if she should worry or find the whole ordeal cute. The male one latched to her mother’s leg, his big sister was helping with the dishes, talking with her mother as she dried the plates next to her.

And then there was Cecil, who was still holding her shoulder and trying to soothe her. She was already ashamed, Cecil’s behavior rubbed oil in the wounds, even if his best intentions were in place.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, loudly, into her ear. “If not I could bri…”

She took his hand off her shoulder and left the empty teacup on the table. “ Much better my dear,” She got up from her place and dusted off what wasn’t there. “Now if you excuse me, I want to see my girlfriend.”

“Hey big feathery sister,” the little hatchling spoke, leaving her mother's side and coming towards her. How pleasant. “I heard you and the white-haired other sister was like mother and father.”

Swan didn’t have to force her smile to stay still as the child blubbered, look on her mother's face was hilarious enough. She looked as if watching a train crash about to happen. Well, it was about to happen to some extent.

“Do you and another sister do stuff like mother and father,” little hatching continue faster than the hypothetical crash she imagined. “You know kiss and oth…”

Her mother came to their side and shut her child down with one hand and pinched his shoulder with the other. “We are so sorry about what he just said, your life is yours, I understand.”

Swan chuckled, hiding her behavior behind a hand. “He will be a bold one, don’t worry about it,” she crouched to get the child’s eye level. His eyes were darting between his mother and her. “Know know, if you are going to be so bold in feature, first steal the ladies heart first, got it?”

He said something muffled by her mother’s hand. Latch let the child’s mouth go after that.

“I promise, sis,” He said, smiling with one missing tooth.

Swan brought her hand between them, offering hers. “No No, you have been a naughty boy. I need you to promise me so that I believe you.”

Before she finished he grasped her pinky with his whole hand. “I promise sis,” keeping a smile as consistent as hers.

Better than nothing I guess, she thought as she stood back up. “Now, if you excuse me, giant uncle behind my back will take me to my friend.”

Cecil turned in her direction, about to murmur another excuse as the person she expected the most entered the room. His unkempt shirt turned blue, missing a button and one glass shattered. Swan looked for any clue, any hint on how the operation went. Swan held a chair to make sure she didn’t dash toward Tech again.

“All ends well, that ends well,” Tech said, rubbing his neck. “She is good as new, but she does need to rest…” She didn’t let her finish.

She hugged her with all gratitude she got, squeezing him as much as she could. “Thank you… I own you everything.”

Tech held Swan’s waist and pushed her away, his breaths were quicker, and was pointing a finger against her. His face seemed redder, flushed than last she remembered.

“Lady Swan, with all due respect I’m a married man and I do not appreciate this type of behavior,” He tried to fix his ruined shirt and make himself look proper.

“I beg your pardon?” She titled her head, still observing the man in front of him.

“You may be happy with the results, but it doesn’t excuse your behavior of pressing my head to… to…”

She brought her eyes down and guessed where his head level would come to. Seeing the results clearly, she turned and smiled at him. “I apologize Mr. Tech. With such a lovely wife, you sure would be loyal.” She walked past him and walked towards what she cared about the most. “Now if you excuse me, I want to check on someone who I want them to be there.”

***

Forty-two was pondering on if he should take Forty-one’s words to heart or was it just another one of his distractions?

He and Daughter were sitting against each other, sitting on the ground. Forty-one was trying to remove a panel from the wall, sounds of squeak of rusty metal were echoing in the interior of the factory, joining the cacophony around them. The drones were still trying to punch down the door, but they seemed to be unable to do so. Daughter told him that they were mindless, as such likely stepping on each other to reach them. A bucket full of crabs, or drones on a wall in their case.

He observed how Daughter was doing, she was drawing stuff on the dusty ground, not looking him in the eye. A tree, a house, and a family in front of it. There was also a deadly laser coming from a sky dome, or a sun, he wasn’t sure. There was a brittle silence in the hair and he intended to break it.

“You have quite the persistent fans you know,” he said, tilting his head towards the door. “Smashing down the door for a chance to meet you.”

Daughter looked up, she seemed tired, her lips curved up as their eyes met. “Yeah, tell me about it, I mean, I fell off from the sky and can’t catch a break,” she hugged herself, looking down. “Ah, how unlucky for me, can’t even catch a break.”

“Yeah, yeah… poor you,” Forty-one shouted from his place, gently trying to rip an iron cover apart. “Almost got it…I f… okay, give me a second.”

“Work harder, peasant,” Daughter shouted, swinging her head aside and filling his face with her hair. Her hair had a lavender scent.

“I will your almighty highness if you could gift me a mere moment of yours,” he ripped the last panel and revealed a glass wall behind its back, pure black glinting with the light coming off from holes on the roof.

Daughter murmured something under her breath, as she got up walking down to Forty-one’s side. Not wanting to be left alone, he also followed. Forty-one was facing them, without showing a sign of emotion. True or false, he can’t find a clue if what he meant by those words carried anything. A plain face with a plain look.

“Considering this is our first time here together, we can experiment a bit,” Forty-one pointed towards the glass panel behind his back. “Daughter, could you press your hand here.”

“If anything happens, hit him in the groin,” she whispered in his ear and walked towards the glass panel. It didn’t reach her presence, but when she pressed her hand then it happened.

The screen fluttered at first, ripples of gray and blue spread where Daughter touched. Step by step screen lit up, a robotic male voice greeted them.

“Welcome back, my lady,” it was his voice. More artificial and less lively, but he was sure of it. The voice belonged to him.

“Am I a prototype of that as well?” He grunted, staring towards Forty-one.

“The other way around, I guess?,” Forty-one squinted his eyes, looking towards the screen. “This is my first time hearing this greeting as well.”

“I… it feels familiar,” Daughter stepped back, the screen flickered, slowly taking a shape, gaining a face. “We met before, did we?”

The face was hard to discern. It was first unrecognizable and then took an image that rivaled the man behind them. Ashen black here and ice blue eyes that bore into your very soul. Present cheekbones, prominent jawline, a pleasant smile, and orderly teeth. It felt alive even when it was artificial. It then changed, to a porcelain-faced male, it got a reaction from Forty-one in the form of enlarged eyes. It changed once more, this time to Forty-one.

“Sorry, my lady. It takes some time to calibrate according to your preferences,” faces have begun to change rapidly.

“No, don’t.” Daughter said, but it was too late.

A blonde face with remarkable features got to hold, he looked into the face’s blue eyes. His blue eyes, his face, it used his own voice.

“Much better. Now how can I help you, my lady?” The face’s lips opened and closed for a moment. He mistook it for a bug, but the lips parted again, this time with discontent. “My lady, may I ask why have you been not contacting me since…” his eyes rolled back on the screen, only the white remained. “63,999 loops. It has been a long long time, which passed slowly without you. Was it about my performance, did I do something that dissatisfied you? Sorry for asking, let me check the records first.”

The screen flickered and the face went away. He looked towards his friends, only to find two opposites. Daughter buried her face into her hands, saying something barely audible.

“Why do these things always happen to me?”

Forty-one on the other hand was smiling, chuckling to his inside even. “This is new, oh, this is very new. Further, we might go much further.”

Forty-two as the sensible one here looked back to the screen, some things were without remedy. The screen flickered once more, this time with a much more grim tone.

“I can’t help you… my allowances disallow it.” Imitation of his face looked grim, shaken even. For a robot, it seemed even confused and full of emotions boiling under his circuits. Been there, done that already. “I… You are made by my image.” The face looked at him.

“Wanna see what comes after?” He Forty-two rolled his eyes, pointing towards his back. “Look there.”

“His case is more… complicated. And if he is free… well, I don’t know what comes after will matter, this might be a dead loop after all.”

Forty-one looked towards the body behind them, Daughter looked at him. Forty-two, he gazed towards the face in front of him.

"What is special about him, his files are locked beyond my access?" Forty asked while walking around the body.

The screen didn't answer, move, or bothered to do anything. It just stood static.

“Can you hear me now?” The screen talked, yet the face didn’t move. “If so please look somewhere else, and pretend you don’t hear me.”

Forty-two wanted to ask why, but when looking at his friends, something become noticeable, both didn’t react to what the screen said. He walked next to the body, Forty-one was inspecting and touching what seemed like random points, but he didn't care as his attention was diverted towards the voice.

“Good enough, now listen to me,” a small pause followed. “Before all, find the terminal in Glitter City, I will be more prepared for our next meeting, I might provide some more… tangible help. As for the current… all I can offer is wo..rds. I’m notice…d. Don’t tru…”

“Screen is flickering,” Daughter said, grasping his shoulder. When turned, black pixels creeping all around covered the face. Its lip parted one final time, but no voice came out.

“Well, this was certainly interesting, but now we must go. Daughter, if it is okay I want to try this once again later on,” Forty-one said, seemingly walking away from them, towards the corner of the factory.

“Only if you help us reach the Glitter City,” Daughter said, standing her ground.

Forty-one didn’t say a word, he opened something he didn’t notice before, a floor hatch. “That part is not negotiable, I will help you either way. Now, are you coming or not?”

Daughter held grasped his hand and shot a smile in his direction. “Together?”

He was about to say ‘sure’, a simple answer, but final dying words reached his ears.

“Trust no one, not even them.”

Forty-two looked towards Forty-one and then the Daughter. Both seemed concerned by his lack of reaction.

“Yes, together,” he said. Holding Daughter’s hand, he walked towards the hatch.

***

Church’s ornate door cast a mighty shadow over them, as she was little and faint compared to what it stood for.

Rabbit wasn’t religious or against it, yet standing at the church’s gates, she couldn’t help but feel insignificant. It wasn’t just perception however, the church ruled everything as the servants of the Gods of City. Sentinels were the police force, but Enforcers were the real strength of the city. Even Jackal, the weakest and newest member could tear tens of sentinels into shreds. Bear in his hay day said to be equal to their entire force. Tiger? Even the church feared him, even without sight or his gizmo, he can go against other enforces. Peacock? Hope she never met him. It was said that the last thing church enemies saw was his porcelain face.

The city had its trials, yet none would dare to stand against a Preacher’s words, for they carried the Gods of the City's will.

Then there was Bear, who was still smoking and puffing the smoke towards the golden gates.

“Do you have a death wish?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“Just boredom, I didn’t expect to be summoned back to…” he took a deep breath of his smoke. “… here.”

The doors didn’t make a voice or gave a warning as they slowly opened, there were two drones with no faces who came out behind the doors and leaned forwards, welcoming them inside this show of vanity.

Bear walked inside as if this was something not worthy of attention, but she was looking around, trying to understand if she was being observed. Yet there were only golden gears behind the transparent walls, spinning in silence, making the city match towards its destiny, or so she had been taught.

Each of their steps echoed in the vacant halfway, left to their thoughts. Yet with each step, her anxiety grew, Bear seemed calm, even comfortable, but she couldn’t.

“Why are you like this?” Each of her words echoed in the empty halfway, reminding her how little she is. “Li..Li...Like everything is okay,” she cursed under her breath as her stutter made an appearance.

“If it wasn’t, we would’ve been killed by now,” he pinched his cigarette and threw it aside, the bud dissipated on the ground, turning to ash and then sinking to the ground. She could only look at the scene eyes wide open.

“Are we inside gray goo?” she walked swiftly to reach Bear’s side, who didn’t bother reacting to her.

“If you want to be an enforcer, you have to be more observant. Where do you think those faceless drones went after we walked past them. Also, why their steps made no voice while ours do so?”

With each of their steps, a faint thud echoed, not enough to catch attention, not faint to disappear when cared for.

Step by step they walked in the endless corridor until a mere moment Bear stopped. There stood a long empty halfway ahead of them, the same as the one in the past. She didn’t dare to move forward or act different than the Bear, through imitating her she might get out without an issue.

A crack, a line of light formed ahead of them, and as such eternal hallway became a door, opening to reveal a council behind.

She followed Bear into the middle of the room. They were on a lower floor compared to twelve people sitting on lavish and decorated thrones, each wore a mask with a number on them.

Twelve were sitting ahead of them, looking at the door while Six was above it. When she looked down, her breath froze, unable to leave her body. She made a ditch attempt to resume, but it failed. It failed as she knew what came after.

A giant golden gear was below them, each had a number carved upon them and pieces of machinery and cogs were even below, seeping into infinity. Part of others, sinners or forgotten littered the machinery, silently being crunched by the endless will of cogs.

“Look up attended,” a muffled voice, one of an old female echoed. Her eyes shot up, observing each and everyone around her.

Who spoke?

A loud crunch filled her ears, she wished to scream but didn’t dare so. Golden gears slowly descended from above, from the roof where she can’t see the end. She didn’t move, or couldn’t. Bear seemed calm, or used to even. When cogs reached their level, both she and Bear occupied empty parts between them.

If those golden gears, if they ever began to turn, they would be crushed between the cogs.

“Praise the Gods will, praise their mercy…” echoed from all judges around them. “…as your life is subject of their whim,”