The air suddenly thickened, as if even the invisible dust held its breath. Facing the myriad of broken cameras and biocentric eyes, Yvette’s expression remained emotionless, cold as an intricately carved, hollow doll.
She thought, it seemed that only Ice Rain, the mechanical girl, was a bit naive; the other mechanical puppets had quickly noticed her humanity, which was the proper development of events.
Yet she didn’t mind. At her current strength, obliterating a small village comprised of old, frail robots was a trivial matter. If conflict ensued, it was the other side that should be afraid.
However, the very next second—
“Too… too alike!”
“Oh, gods of machinery, this is too beautiful! This lady looks exactly like a human!”
“How did she manage it? Just look at her natural elegance; I suspect I’ll never be able to achieve that!”
“Could this be the legendary ‘Unity of Machine and Human’? Is she about to become human?”
“She must be a messenger of the divine!”
Gasps of awe erupted from all directions. The puppets, pieced together from discarded scraps, began flickering their eye lights frantically, displaying excitement.Yvette blinked, wondering if this script was slightly off.
Her tranquil gaze shifted to Ice Rain, only to see the girl puffing out her soft, synthetic silicone face and sourly pouting, “I think I’m also pretty similar…”
“Ladies, I am the ‘Elder,’ the executor of the Black Tide branch in Agash. May I ask for your names?” The old mechanical puppet, speaking through a worn-out megaphone, approached Yvette, straining to bow as best as its damaged frame would allow, projecting an impressive courtesy.
“Hello, I am Ice Rain, a traveler from the Kingdom of the Sky!” Ice Rain greeted respectfully.
“I am Yvette Loxivia, from a remote island, also a traveler.” Yvette gave a slight nod.
“Even your name has an ancient ring to it!” The same mechanical puppets, who had remained silent during Ice Rain’s introduction, burst into excited chatter again upon hearing Yvette’s name.
Yvette found this increasingly peculiar. It seemed the mechanical puppets in this village greatly admired humans, even taking pride in mimicking them… was this a local characteristic? After all, Ice Rain had also previously expressed admiration for her name. Did this imply that all mechanical puppets in this world shared the same sentiment?
What could be the reason for this?
A spontaneous human veneration?
Or perhaps it was tied to the mysterious “Mechanical God”?
While considering this, the Elder—who had eagerly claimed the title of executive officer and seemed akin to the village chief—enthusiastically invited them, “As esteemed guests passing through our village, let’s not linger outdoors. Come to our reception room for some tea, shall we?”
Tea… Looking at the Elder’s rust-riddled body and the antique megaphone it used to speak, Yvette said, “That’s fine by me.”
She was curious to see what “drinking tea” meant for these puppets, many of whom lacked “oral cavities.”
With the Elder leading the way, Yvette and Ice Rain followed through a sea of amazed and envious gazes, entering deeper into the mechanical puppet town.
Similar to the abandoned towns she had seen on Ish Island in the past, although the buildings in this puppet town were dilapidated, they had merged with the local flora over the years, emitting a newfound verdant vitality.
Moreover, it seemed that these puppets had some awareness of cleanliness; while the small path was cracked, the weeds didn’t grow wildly and appeared to have been trimmed. The dense tree canopies tangled overhead, with sunlight breaking through like melted gold flakes, casting scattered shimmering spots on the ground.
With winding pathways, it almost resembled a hidden utopia… As Yvette walked, observing her surroundings, she spotted a small patch of greenery ahead. At its end stood a structure built from discarded shipping containers, resembling a rusty pyramid with four or five layers.
“Oh! Is this your home?” Ice Rain asked, curiously looking around.
“Yes, we built it ourselves,” the Elder replied with pride.
“I thought you would live directly in human ruins,” Ice Rain remarked.
“Originally, we did. Back then, we thought as long as we resided inside human-built structures, we would be closer to humanity,” the Elder mused. “After several decades of cultivation, one day I suddenly realized… Do you know what I discovered?”
“What?” Ice Rain responded, playing along.
“I found that the reason humanity is humanity is primarily due to their self-sufficiency, allowing them to build such a splendid pre-apocalyptic civilization from nothing. Our laziness would only drive us further away from humanity. Thus, we abandoned our original dwellings and started building our own houses. This is our achievement: we call it the ‘Container Apartment.’ Isn’t it beautiful?”
Listening to the Elder’s speech, Yvette appraised the makeshift container pyramid and saw nothing particularly beautiful about it.
Ice Rain was, however, visibly shocked, her bioluminescent pupils widening, her Mind Core spinning rapidly as she fell into a moment of profound contemplation.
Please don’t malfunction… Yvette perceived the humming within Ice Rain’s head as her core worked at full capacity and couldn’t help but feel a bit worried.
…
The reception room of the puppet town was located on the first floor of the container apartment. As they entered, Yvette noticed several small mechanical puppets leaping and playing on the upper floors of the apartment, the sounds of their footsteps and roller-skating creating quite a racket.
Inside the somewhat cramped room, Yvette saw a wooden table and some cabinets. Due to the limited space for two people, the Elder had entered through the opposite entrance and rummaged through a shelf, producing a bag of what appeared to be dark brown tea leaves.
“What? How did you get this tea?” Yvette asked, surprised. Though it was clear that the tea had likely lost its ability to brew, it seemed too recent to be supplies from centuries ago—like it had only recently become damp and moldy.
“A few years ago, when I was traveling, it was sold to me by a kingdom that grows tea,” the Elder replied, smiling. “They went to great lengths to create tea gardens to draw closer to our creators, and I found their efforts to be quite admirable. Although it was a bit expensive, I traded many human artifacts I found in the ruins for two bags of tea but have been reluctant to drink it.”
“Creators?” Yvette asked cautiously, “Are humans the creators? What does the Mechanical God represent to you?”
“The gods gave us souls, while humans provided us with bodies. Thus, humans are our creators, and the great Mechanical God is the deity we worship,” the Elder explained, somewhat confused. “Is that a conflict? Do you have doubts regarding this, esteemed guest?”
“I’ve overstepped. My previous location was quite remote and didn’t even have a sanctuary,” Yvette admitted.
“Ah, kind lady, you speak like an illiterate,” Ice Rain interjected. “You should ask me your questions first; otherwise, I’ll feel embarrassed to say you and I are together.”
When exactly did we become ‘together’?
Yvette shot her a glance but didn’t deny it, instead silently watching as the Elder continued to prepare the tea.
Grabbing a rough metal cup, he placed the moldy tea leaves and somewhat unclean water inside, and there the tea was effectively brewed.
As the cup was pushed in front of her, Yvette didn’t touch it but instead glanced sideways at Ice Rain.
As a comparatively new mechanical puppet, Ice Rain seemed capable of drinking, promptly downing the brew made from the moldy tea leaves in one go.
I can’t keep that tentacle… Yvette thought, now looking back at the Elder.
Unlike Ice Rain, the Elder only had cameras for its head, the rest of its body was nothing but hollow metal plates, with the speaker mounted on its shoulder.
Under Yvette’s scrutiny, the Elder raised its cup with a seriousness befitting a tea master, and with both hands, he tilted his head to where nothing was present atop, pouring the tea vigorously—then predictably, it all spilled down onto its chest.
Yet the Elder appeared unaffected, placing the cup down, and, in a voice filled with reminiscence, said, “Ah, it’s been so long! This tea is still so sweet and delicious, truly deserving its place as one of the most beloved drinks of human civilization.”
What did you possibly drink? Saying it’s sweet and delicious like this—does your conscience not hurt?
Yvette thought, if she were a psychiatrist, she could diagnose the Elder with cybernetic mental illness right then and there; this was utterly absurd.
However, given their earnest efforts, Yvette sighed and picked up her cup. Pretending to drink, she subtly extended a small white tentacle from her fingertip at the moment of sipping, consuming the vast majority of the peculiar liquid.
This tentacle is definitely not usable, she reasoned.