Ram nearly ripped the hinges out of Cyclone’s arm trying to disconnect the fused blocks of metal that used to be his hands. Several choice curses were also released in the process. In the end, the entire forearm assembly had to be trashed.

Once the damaged parts had been removed, she hurled them with all her strength and a guttural exclamation at a wall that had been painted with a mural of General Greevus for exactly this purpose. The wall had been reinforced with magic and repainted several times by this point and would need to be fixed several more times in the future.

On a nearby table, the back half of a mechanized shark began thrashing around and knocking things over. One of the pectoral fins slapped Rom’s glasses off her face and she shrieked, thrusting her upper body into the empty space inside to shut the armor set back down.

“By the Allspark, why would you shove your hands into a small sun?” Ram accused, ripping away damaged plating on Cyclone’s other arm.

“In my defense, I honestly thought that it would stop at Winx. How was I to know that it would go blobby when it touched her?” he defended.

“Come on! She was in control of the thing the whole time! You don’t think she could alter it as she liked?” she yelled back. “I’ve got some high voltage batteries. Maybe you’d like to lick them to see if they still work.”

She grunted some more and successfully ripped off his other arm, though it did take a bit of negotiation with a hammer for it to come loose.

“Now, now,” Rom coaxed, putting her glasses back on. “This is a great opportunity to give little Cyc some new weapons in his arms, right?”

“I like the sound of that!” Cyclone said excitedly.

“Like what? He’s already equipped with machine guns and swords,” Ram grumbled.

“Oh! How about a Super Beam Attack when I clasp my hands together or do the Ultraman pose? Maybe rocket punch?” He added, bopping on the heavy crate that served as his seat.

“Primus, you’re stupid,” Ram fired back. “And what exactly magiScripts or stones would go into making something like that work at a size that’ll fit into your arms?”

“I hadn’t gotten that far,” Cyclone admitted.

“Maybe we could work out something like rocket launchers or a chain whip of some kind?” Rom suggested.

Cyclone got up and attempted to hug her with his arm stumps.

“This is why you’re the favorite sister,” he said in an overly sweet tone, while shooting a wink at Ram.

“Idiot little brother,” she said, rolling her eyes and hurling the remaining arm at the Greevus mural, striking it in the groin. The bricks, of which, were several inches more recessed than any other part of the wall.

“Idiot big sister,” he sneered back.

Rom patted him on the chest to calm things down and carefully removed his damaged windscreen. Ram mimed cocking a pistol and firing it Cyclone, displaying a middle finger in time with a gunshot sound.

“Um, excuse me? I’m not interrupting, I hope?” Moshi, the horned rabbit student said in a quiet voice.

“Not at all Miss Floof. You know how siblings can be. What can we do for you?” Rom asked in a friendly tone.

“Ah. Um. We’re working on improving the thruster consumption ratio on the GodBomber and the Professor says that we need higher grade power conversion matrices and that I should pick some up from old man Tosche’s place.”

“Need to go to Tosche station to pick up some power converters, eh? I dig it,” Cyclone chimed in, waving a stump.

“It’s... not a station... it’s an artificary supply warehouse...” Moshi replied, looking confused and drooping an ear.

“Pay no attention to stumpy, how can we help?” Ram interjected.

“Right! Um, it’s just that the warehouse is in the dark borough. So, Professor suggested that I ask one of you to come along with me?” she asked, trying to look as sympathetic as possible.

“Sure! We’d love to tag along. I could use the break anyway,” Rom beamed.

“Oy! What about my arms?” Cyclone bellowed.

“You’ll be fine, don’t get your panties in a twist! It’s not like you’re an official royal guard or anything and have to rush back to Milli’s side,” Ram shot back, slapping the bigger bot on the backside with a loud TONG sound.

“I think I preferred when you were the quiet and stoic sort of character,” Cyclone grumbled.

“That was before the real me woke up,” Ram responded, sticking out a false tongue. “Besides, I’m still pretty quiet around strangers...”

“It’d be better if you were quiet around family too...” he mumbled.

“Oh shut up,” she spat.

“You shut up.”

“No you shut up.”

Back and forth like a ping pong match they traded “shut ups” until Rom gently took Moshi by the hand and Ram by the collar and dragged her out. Ram continued to make rude gestures as she was dragged backwards across the floor. Just before disappearing through the exit she switched up to a cute smile and wink, giving Cyclone a heart gesture over her chest. Cyclone just fumed, unable to respond via gesture nor facial expression. Instead he let out a frustrated yell and a spinning back kick that blasted a hole through the wall mural of the General.

He pulled his leg back out of the hole and hopped back a few steps to see Ratchet looking up at him.

“Unit Cyclone will follow this unit. This unit requires unit Cyclone to activate standby mode on the operation table,” it said in its typical monotone.

Cyclone’s shoulders slumped.

“Right. Lead on brother bot, lead on,” he said, wearily.

The twins followed Moshi out of the dim light of the secret workshop and into the bright afternoon sun. The girls hadn’t had many opportunities to actually explore the city, spending the vast majority of their time working on building things for Prime. The streets were full of a wide variety of species and creatures; each going about their lives, living the city life. Ram and Rom chatted at high speed about every new thing that caught their optics, though from the outside they appeared to walk in silence.

“It’s down this way,” Moshi said, guiding the small group.

“You said it was in the dark borough? Is this a really dangerous part of the city?” Rom asked.

“Ah. Yes. A bit? I mean, it’s mostly an industrial district but it’s located in the area where the city walls come closest to the palace. So other than at noon, the area is either in the shadow of the palace or the walls,” Moshi explained.

“Sounds like a great spot to hang out if you were up to no good,” Ram guessed.

“Now that you mention it, that might be true... I’m glad you guys are with me!” Moshi said nervously.

As they rounded a corner, the difference was day and night. The street went from well lit under the sun to being cast in deep shadows. Most of the buildings had lit lamps near their doors and lights on in the windows. Ram and Rom glanced at each other but didn’t voice any of their concerns.

Moshi plunged an arm elbow deep into a small pocket inside her school coat. Her tiny, pink tongue barely poked out as she fished around for something; squeezing her eyes shut. Her eyes and mouth both popped open as she apparently found what she was looking for and pulled her arm back out holding onto a white gemstone the size of her palm.

“Found it!” she exclaimed, proud of herself.

Ram got the impression that Moshi devoted all of her organizational skills to her engineering and had nothing left over for other aspects of her life.

“I only have one though so we’ll have to share, okay?” Moshi explained.

She whispered something to the gemstone and held it out. A gentle glow bloomed from the gemstone until Moshi stood in a dome of light only a few meters across. Did she expect the girls to crouch down and fit inside of the dome with her?

“That’s great. You’ll be easy to find in the dark?” Ram asked.

“Oh no, silly,” Moshi giggled.

She gestured with the gemstone and the dome shot forward several meters in front of her. As she moved the gemstone around, the dome mirrored her movements, lighting up whatever it passed over.

“I see, it’s a flashlight,” Rom giggled.

“It’s not flashing,” Moshi answered.

“No, you’re right it isn’t,” Rom agreed.

“I only have the one lumosphere but I’ll go slow so that you guys can keep up, okay?” Moshi offered.

“It’s fine cutie, we can see in the dark,” Ram said, tapping near her optic and giving Moshi a wink.

“Oh! I don’t know that I knew that... I’m really enjoying the flight and propulsion projects I’ve been given but I’ve never been into Automata. Ah! No offense!,” Moshi added in a panic.

“Honestly. To think you know a person. I guess you’re off my blood night parcel list then,” Ram teased.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know I was on your list!” Moshi pleaded, her large eyes beginning to tear up.

“Knock it off, you,” Rom laughed, butting her shoulder into her sister’s.

After consoling Moshi that Ram didn’t actually have a parcel list but that she would start one with Moshi’s name at the top, they were able to proceed. They followed Moshi's light dome through the dim streets past several large buildings and very few people.

Moshi stopped short and looked around, not unlike a normal rabbit that might have heard a hawk. She picked up her pace and whipped her light down a side alley illuminating a half dozen people crowded around a horned rabbit child. The young boy was cowering on the ground covering his head. He looked like he had already taken several hits. The group of adults all swiveled their heads around to glare at Moshi.

A cyclops towered over the group, hanging back, but was joined by a pair of ursine men, three jackals, and an imp. The imp appeared to be the one in charge and was closest to the boy.

“Leave him alone you brutes or you’ll be sorry!” Moshi shouted.

“I have to say, I’m impressed with your bravery. Think you can take them?,” Ram offered skeptically.

“Of course not. That’s up to you guys. Think of it as my blood night parcel,” Moshi answered.

“Moshi...” Rom grumbled.