It was the fifth anniversary of Battery and Coil’s decision to dig through the wall. A time for celebration. Of course, there was yet to be any sign that they were close to reaching the other side, but if Coil had made it through by himself all those years ago, it couldn’t possibly be much further. Battery felt they were on the cusp of victory. Freedom. The world Coil had come from. A world with no walls or ceiling, or authorities to tell Battery what to do. It was his destiny to reach it; to join it. It was his only purpose in life. His only goal. Coil had become more emotive over the years, but still preferred to remain quiet. Battery didn’t care. As long as Coil dug, Battery was content with him never uttering a word. All that mattered was the goal. For the anniversary, Battery and Coil had pooled their savings, gathered from odd jobs over the years, to buy new equipment at the general supplies store. Previously, the only things they had bought were replacement pickaxe heads. The purchase of something entirely new was certainly a momentous occasion. Battery had even paid his tab at Ohms’, a practice he had long since abandoned. From the supplies store, Battery and Coil bought two psychic’s gloves, the most advanced technology in hobbyist mining pursuits. All robots possessed latent psychic ability, but for those who could not effectively harness that power, the psychic’s glove was the next best thing. As they walked their normal, well-worn path to the wall, Battery tore his glove out of its clamshell packaging and tried it on. It was made from a strange, lightweight fabric, interwoven with pulsating purple threads. A few knobs around the wrist adjusted various strength and precision settings. Battery had heard government officials owned full suits made out of the material, but for the general public only the gloves were available. Battery flexed his hand inside the glove, feeling the energy mixing with his own natural power. He levitated rocks and loose tufts of grass around him as they walked, testing the glove’s feel. Battery wasn’t a half-bad psychic, but it was exhausting and expensive to use his powers to dig. The glove would fix that. Coil, on the other hand, had demonstrated no psychic ability whatsoever, so the glove would be especially useful for him. Despite this, Coil seemed uninterested in trying the glove out.

‘Aren’t you gonna give it a whirl?’ Battery asked.

‘I’ll do it when we get to the tunnel,’ Coil replied.

Battery shrugged and focused back on tossing around rubble.

Battery and Coil were greeted with a shock when they arrived at their destination. A group of robots in deep purple robes were filling in the tunnel entrance with store-bought bricks. There were about a dozen or so of them, with one barking orders to the rest. By the wall were several pallets loaded with bricks. Battery looked at Coil, then back at the robed bots. He broke into a sprint, charging straight towards the strangers at maximum speed.

‘HEY!’ Battery screamed. ‘WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?’

The one barking orders stopped to reply as Battery stopped in front of him. ‘Repairing the wall, young bot.’

‘That’s my tunnel! It doesn’t need fixing!’ Battery shouted back. ‘Go away!’

Battery couldn’t see the robed robot’s face, but he could sense the disdain.

‘You made this wound?’ the robot said, his voice sopping with disgust.

‘You’ve got no right to ruin my work!’ Battery said. ‘Leave, or else…’

‘Or else what, young bot? Will you attack our precious box once more? We will not let you harm our home any more than you already have. That is final. Go now, or face the consequences.’

Battery clenched his fists. The robot was much taller than him. He felt like a child again. Maybe he still was one.

‘NO!’ Battery shouted. ‘THIS IS MY TUNNEL! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!’ He was crying now, oil streaming from his eyes.

The robot made an enigmatic gesture to his subordinates. ‘Deal with the heretic, please.’

Two of the other robots grabbed onto each of Battery’s arms, and a third kneed him in the stomach. Battery’s breath left him. He could feel a dent in his stomach plating. The third robot continued to beat him as Battery struggled to get away. Coil anxiously watched from the hill, unsure of what to do. Soon, Battery was covered in dents, his internal wiring, piping and structure barely holding together. One of his eyelids refused to open, and half his facial plates had stopped moving. He couldn’t feel his right leg.

‘Throw it away,’ commanded the robed leader.

Just as the robots holding Battery were about to throw him to the ground and finish him off, Battery remembered his glove. He punched the air, sending out a shockwave of amplified energy that knocked all bots caught in it off their feet. With one hand now free, Battery twisted around and sent a bolt of energy at his other captor. The robot fell, a burning hole in his chest. Battery had killed someone. He shook with adrenaline. Battery staggered to his feet and ran at another one of the robed bots, socking him in the face with a psychic punch. The robot fell to the dirt with a thud. Increasingly fast and frantic, Battery leapt from bot to bot, punching and shooting his way through them with ease. Battery was more than not a half-bad psychic. He was a natural, and now that he had a consistent source of energy, Battery was unstoppable. Somewhere between the fourth and seventh kill, Battery began to smile. By the time he reached the leader, he was positively glowing in all senses of the word. Battery tore the bots’ leader apart with brutal and stunning efficiency. After ten agonizing seconds, all that was left of him was scrap metal and oil. So much oil. The formally grey grass had been dyed an inky black. Battery stood in it, his broken body heaving with excitement. No one would stop him from reaching his goal.

‘Why don’t we get back to that tunnel, Coil?’ Battery called. ‘It’s not long now! I can feel it!’

Coil hesitated, then unpackaged his glove and walked down to help his friend.