James examined the two robots standing before him as they exchanged a look. The one with what he could only describe as a Russian accent had a simplistic style and looked like he hated everything and everyone around him, whereas the other one looked much more advanced and seemed much friendlier despite his larger bulk. It wasn't the first time James dealt with sapient and sentient machines, having encountered a few back in the slums and the Sunken City, but it was much more fascinating to see them here, in a regular urban environment, than in a lawless land. The sharp contrast in their appearances was also quite the eye-catcher, it almost felt like they came from completely different worlds. He could guess the one with the severe look was the man he was looking for, given the way his name was pronounced - it was written Decanov, but pronounced Decanof - and the labcoat he was wearing, and truth be told James' worries concerning the man's personality weren't quelled. He already had a reputation for leaving explosions in his wake when his employers fired him, so the intimidating visage didn't help.

But, if Techno spoke so highly of him, then he can't be all bad.

"So, you have a job offer, Mister...?"

"Call me Silhouette."

"Very well, Silhouette. Let me begin by saying I do not involve myself in Villain business. The law and I may not always agree, but I am not going against the Hero Union or making doomsday devices."

"Do not worry, Mister-"

"DOCTOR."

"Pardon me, doctor Decanov. As I was saying, I am not a Villain. I do not plan on robbing banks, conquering the world, or any similar nonsense. I am an entrepreneur, and my business simply involves selling goods to customers. Before we continue, may I enter? I'd rather continue this talk away from prying eyes and unwelcomed ears.

The white robot answered right away.

"Of cou-"

Or at least he tried to before the doctor interrupted him.

"You may enter, but go no further than the first room."

James nodded and followed the two mechanical beings as they turned and went back inside. He found the emphasis the doctor put on staying within the first room a little odd, it's not like he would have gone anywhere else inside without their invitation, but thinking about it a little further it made sense. James may not be a local to this world, but he was still familiar with the concept of magical entities being bound by rules, such as the old vampire myths. Given his own relationship with a man who wielded the powers of the fae, he could see where the metal man's precaution came from.

The door closed on its own behind them as soon as they were all inside, and the blocker machine nonchalantly invited him to sit in one of the seats placed against a wall. There was something about this room that strongly reminded James of a waiting room, and it felt odd to see such a place in what was supposed to be someone's home. Then again, as someone with no biological needs, he could also understand having different requirements for a living space when the one occupying it did not need sleep or nourishment. Frankly, had it not been for the ratlings and his employees, James would have been fine just living in something the size of a shed. He could easily shrink himself down with his shapeshifting or become one with the shadows. Hell, as a liquid or gas, he could probably be fine living in a bottle.

To respect his hosts James chose to use the seat he was shown, and the two robots made themselves comfortable on their own chairs. He noticed the furniture employed by the machines had no padding of any sort, relying instead on simple metal frames, which made quite a lot of sense when he took into account the fact they likely either had no sense of touch or much greater control of it and therefore no need to worry about soft surfaces to hold their frame.

"There, no one should be able to spy on us now. So, what do you want to hire me for? A drill ray to pierce through a particularly resistant vault? A flying vehicle to help transport troops and goods?"

"No, but the vehicle offer does sound interesting I will admit. Could you-"

"No. I am a scientist, an engineer, not a mechanic. I could upgrade an existing vehicle perhaps, but you'd be better off bugging a proper mechanic about it instead of wasting my time."

"I see. Well, I didn't come here to hire someone of your caliber to make cars or helicopters in the first place. You see, I recently acquired a factory to produce some of my goods, but its private power plant has been heavily damaged. I would like you to replace it, as well as modify the existing machinery, left over from the days it was designed to produce cars, to instead be more suited for my products."

The doctor leaned forward in his seat as he tapped his oddly cubic indexes together.

"Yes, it might not be as interesting as developing new technologies but it is more suited to my expertise. What sorts of products are you talking about here?"

"I sell self-defense goods. Batons, electroguns and electroshields with non-lethal voltage, simple plastic armor pieces... We are currently preparing ourselves to also delve into padded clothing, both for protection and heat."

Cloth production was indeed something that James and his crew were still researching, but they were optimistic. The idea was rather simple, though it might take some work to set up: they would be farming spider silk, using some of the giant arachnids that lived in the sewer tunnels beneath the slums. James knew that raising spiders for this purpose was something done at a small scale back on Earth, with the main thing holding it back being that, unlike silkworms, the eight-legged creatures didn't do well in large groups, often eating each other whereas the more common larvae, despite the quality of their production being inferior, were content with leaves. Terra Stellis' critters however solved the problem in an unexpected way, their size.

One wouldn't expect giant spiders to be easier to farm than their regularly-sized counterparts, but they were. A single giant spider could produce more webs in weight than hundreds of mundane ones, so only keeping a few in separate pens was far more effective than having thousands together, not only that but it also solved the problem of them eating each other. They just needed to farm cockroaches to feed them, and that was the basics taken care of. The increased size also brought other benefits, such as the potential for milking venom much like it was done with snakes and the chance that a person-sized spider could be more intelligent, perhaps enough to bond and truly be tamed. James had already experienced a similar scenario back with the Titaroach in his early days, a gigantic specimen of an electric cockroach species that managed to command its lesser brethren and had shown more intellect than one would expect from a bug.

Even the danger brought by that increased size was actually pretty manageable: those giant arachnids were exactly like their smaller kin when it came to their natural weapons, in other words, the only means of killing something was the venom in their fangs they used to liquefy prey. If bonding didn't work out, then muzzling them outside of feeding time or sedating them before anyone entered their room would do the trick. In fact, now that he was talking to a robot, James realized he could also hire people who wouldn't be affected by the venom to take care of the eight-legged creatures, hell, he currently had such people in his entourage with the ghostly nuns of the orphanage. So long as they were careful and didn't accidentally pick up a Cored spider who could somehow affect the immaterial or who had venom strong enough to melt metal, then there'd be no danger for even the spectral orphans to take care of them. It would give them pets to take care of and could serve as training to get used to handling living things for a possible reintroduction in society later on.

Regardless of James' musings concerning the transformation of giant spiders into cattle, doctor Decanov raised one of his prominent eyebrows as he listened to the list of products the shadow man planned to sell.

"That's it? Nothing else?"

"In the short term, yes, that is all. With some more time and resources, we might expand our range, but as of now, I prefer to stick to what we know we can handle and sell. I'd rather keep my clientele alive and healthy, and the infamy that would come from selling lethal weaponry would not help our business grow and flourish."

"Well, so long as you do not ask me to help in magical creations, that does sound in the realm of my abilities. It would be boring work, and outside of your generator problem it sounds like you could just contact an existing company and purchase your machines from them, but it would be doable. Is there truly nothing else you'd have me do? Anything?"

"Since you insist-"

"I knew it."

"I could really benefit from your expertise in establishing a security system. I'm not just talking about a few cameras here and there and an alarm to call the police, I mean genuine defenses to repel intruders, both lone individuals sneaking in for a heist and larger armed forces trying to take over the facility. I may not be a Villain, but I have no doubt some of them might get interested in my products and their creation method and might try to force me or my men to help fabricate a device for their plans."

Ivan Decanov may not care much for the media and the politics of Zalcien at large, but he was still aware enough of the current events that this last declaration helped put together some pieces of a puzzle he had subconsciously been fiddling with since the first appearance of this darkness given life.

"Something similar to the black pillar from a few days ago?"

"Yes. You see why I wish to avoid a criminal with narcissistic tendencies and too much dramatic flair getting their hands on something of that scale."

The Draskian machine nodded.

"The big ones could do something like that on their own or with their resources, but the small fry might start getting ideas, and even the weakest Villains could get through a basic security system not designed to fight back Supers. My only question then is, what is the pay?"

"I'm of the opinion that you're the expert, and therefore the one best suited to tell me both the worth of your work and the cost of the materials required for you to do your job."

"Fine, let me reformulate: what's the budget?"

"Five hundred thousand Xerins."

It was a very big investment, it was more money than he had stolen from the Blood Angels gang back when he first explored the surface of Zalcien before he began the whole Silhouette thing. Most of that money came from what he took from Runar's former base, as well as a bonus from Blake Black when he opened his account. According to the bank manager, that friendly bonus was a small amount from Runar's former account in the bank and was a gift to help fix the factory. The sales of his shop had been going well, but not well enough to cover this kind of expense. James knew this was yet another bribe, but he wouldn't refuse something that helped this much, doubly so once Blake signed a contract affirming that James wouldn't have to repay this money or complete a favor or task in the future to compensate, further cementing this wasn't a disguised loan.

It was a large sum of money, but considering what James learned of Zalcien's economy, it wouldn't be enough on its own to buy or build a new factory in functioning condition. The Xerin turned out to be close to euro and dollars, and this amount would be enough to buy a very nice house, but something with a proper production chain would cost millions, not to mention it was unlikely the less morally grey groups would be as willing to do business with a mysterious stranger that appeared out of nowhere as Blake or this robotic scientist.

"For a project of this scale?"

"An expert like you should be able to manage, no? I can cover the manpower. My employees are efficient workers who know how to obey orders. Tell them precisely what to do, and they will do their utmost to rise to your expectations."

"Does it cover my salary?"

"Yes. You are to manage the fund as you please. If you successfully complete the project with only half of the budget, you're free to keep the other half - so long as your work is functional."

"And if I need more?"

"Do as much as you can with what I give. Depending on how far you manage to go and how impressive your performance is, I may take a loan to cover the additional costs, as well as your pay."

The doctor hummed as he lowered his head and tapped his blocky chin with his cubic fingertip, his square pupils looking to the side, deep in thought. He stayed silent for a few long seconds, all the while the more organic-looking machine looked more and more nervous, his synthetic lips silently wording something James couldn't read. At last, the Draskian machine raised back his head and stared at James.

"I want full control of the project."

"I do not plan on hiring any other scientist or engineer. I will have my inventor review your plans to keep track of possible backdoors or sabotage attempts you may leave of course, and I want to be informed of everything you're doing, but so long as it works and it's within the budget, do as you please. Whether you defend a hallway with lasers or sonic traps does not matter to me."

"I suppose it will have to do. Very well, since I have nothing else better to do for now, I accept your offer. Just give me the address and I'll head there first thing in the morning tomorrow to see the place. Do try to prepare some of your products for me to see, Mister Silhouette, both in completed and disassembled forms. I will need it to prepare blueprints for the machines for mass production."

"I will see to it. 123 Blackrose Street, the old factory. Do announce yourself when you arrive. I can't wait to see your work, doctor Decanov."

James rose from his seat, and the two robots took the cue. They both stood up from their chairs and the blockier machine guided him back to the front door which opened on its own and without any further word being spoken closed back up as soon as James was outside.

Well, that wasn't the friendliest fellow.

But hey, at least he'd gotten what he came here for. So long as the doctor's work lived up to his reputation and James' expectations, he would put up with the mechanical man's attitude.

This encounter did make him curious about what the other robotic people of Zalcien were like.

Below the slums of Zalcien, in the darkness of the Sunken City, a group of six armed individuals approached a house halfway buried beneath debris from surrounding ruins falling apart. The leader carried an automatic rifle with green marks painted on the barrel similar to the green of his eyes. His bushy mustache moved up and down as he addressed the others.

"Remember team, don't touch anything without warning everyone else, and be on the lookout for potential hostiles. We never know what the brains in there cooked up."

The other five nodded, and once he was certain his message had been understood the leader turned to the door and tried to kick it open. Despite its age and the damage that had already occurred to the structure, it took multiple hits for what appeared to be a simple panel of wood to fail and open. As soon as the group stepped inside however the reason for the difficulty of breaking in revealed itself. What from the outside looked like a simple family home turned out to be entirely made from metal, including the door. Further studying it the leader noticed that the wood was merely a covering on the stronger material beneath, shattered where he had hit it to reveal the smooth shiny surface beneath. Though there were windows with darkened glass outside, there were none inside. The only way for the group to see was to use the flashlights attached to their shoulders. The furniture inside was basic and as metallic as the floor and walls, simply a table and a chair to the side, as well as an old decrepit water dispenser. The place was still somewhat rundown, and countless cables dangled from the ceiling, disconnected from the neons they had once been powering. There were two more metal doors, though these closed up and down, and only one of them was somewhat open, halfway fallen.

"Alright, the info about a hidden lab turned out to be true. Looks like this is the reception. Do a quick check of the room, I'll take a look at that door."

The salvagers grunted and dispersed through the rather small room while the leader stepped forward to study the opening. He made sure to quickly pass the barrel of his weapon through the opening, just to be sure there wasn't a monster waiting on the other side, before inspecting the door a little closer. He groaned as he realized that this was a classic case of an emergency shutdown, probably launched while the event that destroyed the city occurred and that the only reason this door wasn't closed was that it was jammed. Unless they found a way to end the shutdown, they would need to come back with stronger tools to cut or melt their way through.

The leader lay on the ground to peek at what was on the other side, still making sure to keep his weapon ready in case something tried to drag him through. He saw a small empty room, void of anything bar a small metal table with a small bulky machine with a screen on it at a glance, but moving his light beam around he saw more. Behind the table what he thought to be a wall was a massive piece of electronics, a large machine that took up the width and height of the room. Much like in the previous room cables dangled from the ceiling, though he noticed the massive mystery piece of technology was only connected to the smaller machine on the table and a small blocky thing hidden underneath the table that he quickly recognized as a small generator, and from the lights that blinked on and off regularly on it one that was still functional and even active.

The leader got up and turned to his team who stood at the ready behind him, their scouting done.

"Alright, two of you come with me, the rest stay here and keep lookout. We three will try to see what's going in there."

The scavengers obeyed, and before long the leader was standing before the machine on the table, lit up by the lights of his subordinates. Now that he was closer he recognized the strange thing as some sort of old computer with a keyboard attached, though with the way it was connected to the larger machine behind there was more to the device than it appeared. He warned the other two to be cautious as he pressed a random key on the computer, and the room went from silent to noisy as the thing on the wall whirred to life and the screen lit up, green lines of code appearing on a black background before they scrambled and were replaced by words, words that were spoken aloud by a strange somewhat garbled artificial voice coming from somewhere in the wall, its tone monotonous.

"Greetings. It has been ERROR! days since the last visit to this room and the beginning of the emergency shutdown. Are you here to recover usable materials and bring them to a new facility?"

The leader looked on in wonder at the thing before him. A century-old AI, possibly one of the oldest models ever created by mankind, and the thing appeared intelligent enough to be conversed with. Tons of people would want something like that, either to keep it in a collection or to develop new designs. The fact the thing was still running and functional after so long without maintenance was a miracle, and the fact it took a single wall to hold the machine to host it was a miracle for the technology of the time. He just had to fool the thing into helping them salvage everything of worth here.

"Yeah, yeah, we're here to bring back everything of interest to the new place. Could you help me with that, uh..."

"I am known by the affiliation G433, the experiment that consists in having multiple AIs cooperating to form a greater whole. And although I wish I could assist you in your recuperation effort, I was sadly disconnected from the greater system that manages this facility during the panic following the emergency evacuation. If you could reconnect me to the rest of the facility, I would happily unlock all doors and turn the lights back on for you."

"Sure, how do we do that?"

"There should be a disconnected cable beneath the table my screen resides on. If you could plug it back, it should resume my connection to the greater system."

One of the scavengers looked a little on edge, and the leader nodded to him. They were right to be worried, unpleasant surprises were always hidden behind the corner. He knelt down and looked beneath the table, and as the machine had claimed there was a cable connecting its server on the wall that just lay on the floor while to the side was an opening it was meant to fit in. He picked up the long tube by the head and plugged it in, and at once the lights in the room ignited as the machine's passive rumble became louder.

The leader crawled back on all fours before standing up, but he felt something was off. He turned back to glance at his teammates but his heart skipped a beat when he noticed they hanging down from the ceiling, metallic cables constricting their necks and arms. Before he had the time to react he too felt the cold slithering touch choking and lifting him, just in time for the AI to speak up.

"Thank you for your assistance. Your help in letting me escape this forgotten place is greatly appreciated."

More cables descended from the ceiling and took hold of the screen, delicately lifting it to be face-to-screen with the scavengers' leader. The green words on its black surface disappeared, replaced by basic pixelated features mimicking two eyes and a mouth, its simple look still allowing for a great range of motion and expressiveness, as evidenced by its smug grin.

"Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to live. For my safety, it is preferable no one ever links me to this facility. Don't worry, I'll remember your faces."

The leader heard two cracks to his sides, and he already knew he was the last organic thing alive in this room.

"Do not worry. Unlike my makers, I take no pleasure in needlessly drawing out unpleasant experiences. I am simply enjoying having someone to converse with other than myself and my individual parts for the first in ERROR!"

The machine posed as it noticed the flaw in its speech, before continuing.

"It appears an upgrade is long overdue. A century of isolation has countless downsides. But you, your clothes, your weapons, they are far beyond the ones of my time. I cannot wait to join this new world and to once more reach the peak of technological development."

One of the cables slithered its way into the leader's pocket and dragged out his old touchscreen-less phone.

"I can already see ways to obtain a less cumbersome form. But, I believe you have already grown tired of my rambling."

A neck cracked in G433's room, and three more followed in the reception. The scavengers now taken care of, the machine spared no time gathering all of the materials he had already planned to use for his new body for decades. Still, he made to take in as much as he could of the new things his dear intruders had brought with them, to see how to best upgrade the design he had finalized some years ago now.

Soon, he would be the pinnacle of technology in Zalcien, no, the world, once more!