(II) Armor

57 (II) Armor

A Repository of Lost Things was an odd building. It had all manner of different bricks, stones, clay, and other materials forming its exterior. Ultimately, it looked like a child’s first attempt at a building, which was impressive because, if you knew anything about children, having them build a building usually meant it was going to collapse and the child was going to cry. Most peculiar of all was the front door, made from gleaming glass and painted in countless different art styles that depicted various people and events.

Shiv’s Foreshadowing started to tremble. But it didn’t give him any visions. Not yet, at least.

They entered the interior, and Shiv was surprised to find that the lobby was rather vacant, and the floor was so polished that he could see himself and Uva in the reflection—she in her coat with the brass buttons, him in his new self-mending cave-biter ensemble.

“Clothes are pretty nice,” Shiv mused. “Thanks.” Shiv paused. “You know, I could have paid for that. I’m willing to pay for it.”

Uva rolled her eyes. She bumped her shoulder into him affectionately. “You’re not the only one capable of giving gifts, Shiv. Stop being uncomfortable. I’m glad that you like them. I’m glad that you’re happy.”

And that made Shiv feel a particular way. “I don’t think I ever heard anyone say that to me before.”

She paused. “Then the world has been unkind to you, and we have much to make up for.”

The ticketing counter at the museum was manned by an automaton. It seemed to know Uva pretty well, and it waved the two of them in.

“Thanks for saving Passage,” the automaton said, waving at Shiv.

Shiv waved back. “No problem, citizen. Didn’t do it alone. Just keep your nose clean. Don’t snort any Drift.”

The automaton paused, incredulous.

Uva slapped him in the chest. “What was that?”

Shiv pulled his arms back and puffed his chest out. “I’m just trying to do my civic duty and make sure the citizens of this city stay upright while your job stays easy.”

She stared at him. “I’m beginning to see why Adam gets annoyed at you sometimes.”

“Yeah… Wait, does that make me Fel? Oh, no, are you dating your own sister’s male counterpart?”

Uva looked absolutely horrified. She gave him a gagging laugh. “Please don’t ever say that again.”

Shiv tried to keep his own composure. “No promises, I won’t bring it up when we argue. It’ll be my secret weapon.”

“My sympathy for Adam grows…”

As Shiv went through the repository, Uva introduced her favorite exhibits to him. He could tell why. Most of the mannequins had specific styles of clothing corresponding to different cultures: Necrotech, Weave, First Court, Descenders, and Compact. All the Five Faiths were represented here, but to his surprise, some stuff from the surface was present as well.

It was at the “Surfacer Invasion Exhibit” where Shiv found himself stuck and entranced.

“Yeah, that’s Republic armor, alright,” Shiv whispered, staring at a skeleton clad in corroded Yellowstone Republic heavy armor. This one was a mage. Apparently, the Necrotechs raised the poor bastard and made him fight his own side before he died a second time. The Republic would hate that. Shiv didn’t even know how he felt about that. He kept his distance from the armor just in case there was any lingering Necromancy left on it.

On the ground beside the skeleton was a cube-shaped construct. A small sign called it a Light Caster, something that could summon spheres of true sunlight. It was how the Republic supposedly held positions in the Abyss as they fought their way down.

“Estimated 5 million dead on the Republic’s side.” Shiv gawked. “That’s… How long did the war even last?’

“Six months.”

Shiv shook his head. “God, I didn’t even know the Republic had that many people to lose.”

She stared at him. “It seems that your Ascendants, they…” Uva didn’t finish what she originally wanted to say. “The Composer is not a normal goddess. We are thankful for her every day. We Umbrals would not be free or in the place we are without her protection. And for her honesty about her own failings. I’m sorry you didn’t have someone like that in your life before.”

Shiv nodded. “Yeah, well, all I could say is that she left a pretty good impression in terms of gods. The Challenger—he just takes notice when I do something violent or interesting. He reminds me of a drunk asshole at a bar egging people on when they fight.”

“Ah,” Uva hummed. “The orc god, who noticed you because you charmed an orc.” She paused. “Now, before you ask, no, I am not fighting over you with some orc in a twisted love triangle.”

“Oh, so you’re just ceding me to 812?” Shiv laughed.

“No. If 812 comes, I will break his mind and leave him comatose so he doesn’t reincarnate at all, and we will go on with our merry lives without him.” Uva's voice was edged with cold violence. Shiv felt a shiver run up his spine and a surge of warmth rush through his heart.

Then, two exhibits over, Shiv stopped again, halted at the sight of a most peculiar set of armor. It was humanoid, lacking specific detail, but it was heavy, dense with adamantine metal, and it had several complicated-looking tubes bolted to its four arms, shoulders, and what looked like an artillery piece on its back.

“What are those?”

“The guns on their arms were capable of incredible feats of Pyromancy. The ones on their shoulders could unleash brutal telekinetic waves. And the mechanism on their back was said to be able to summon a storm of steel from the skies above. Steel that awoke and sought their own targets.”

“Sounds pretty useful,” Shiv said, and a thought passed through him. “Wonder if there’s some place to get armor like that.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Ah,” Uva coughed. “There is… Well, it’s complicated. This here isn’t entirely an armor, but a special automaton. And they're not really around anymore.”

In the backdrop, a painting portrayed a golden clock tower unleashing magic at a sky filled with what seemed to be metal birds.

“What’s happening in the picture?”

“That is the Legacy Empire’s invasion of New Albion, before it became the New Albion we know today.” She paused. “Historians call this moment the Second Blitz. They also think it was the moment that finally broke the power of the old monarchy and allowed the Faceless Queen and the agents of Aviary to seize the throne, making New Albion what it has been since—a kingdom ruled by spies. A kingdom that can’t seem to remove its fingers from everyone else’s business.” She shook her head. “Legacy Empire ruined more than one thing for all of us.”

“I don’t know much of anything about a Legacy Empire either. They're the ones hiding in ?” Shiv frowned. He remembered there were places that few Pathbearers dared tread.

“The remnants of old humanity hidden,” Uva explained, “or at least that’s what they call themselves. These armors—the Penitent Chassis—are awakened automata, but also functionally little more than slaves. They were bound and used to shroud the warriors of the Legacy Empire from the System.”

“Wait, you can hide from the System?” Shiv was stunned.

“As long as you are never exposed to mana, you are hidden from it by default. It takes time to be Integrated, and the pilots within the chassis never were.”

“That is not entirely true. They experienced a taste of the System just before the end.” Shiv spun on his heels at the static-lined voice sounding behind them. His gravitic field rippled as he prepared to—

Shiv froze.

A tall, humanoid automaton stood before him, a hammer in one hand, a paintbrush in the other. This automaton, however, looked broken in many ways—even fragile. Its torso and head were little more than a strip of spine and ribcage connected to an alloyed skull that was missing its lower jaw. Interestingly, the underside of the skull was wide—more than enough for someone to fit their head through.

It was then that Shiv noticed the bare-bones frame of the automaton was also partially painted with an artwork of what looked like a one-limbed tiger bleeding atop a mountain.

The limbs of the automaton were ragged and ramshackle, as if cobbled together from scrap. Its normal, humanoid arms ended in delicate, five-digited hands, and two massive, industrial-purpose arms extended from its lower back. The limbs on the bottom seemed to be missing hands or something else.

The bot’s legs were the densest part of its body, but they, too, were cracked and slightly compromised.

The automaton took every step with strain, but it regarded him with fascination, and Shiv looked back at it with confusion and interest.

His Foreshadowing Skill felt like an earthquake within his mind now.

Then, Uva did something surprising as well. “Can Hu!” she exclaimed, sounding happy to see the automaton. “I didn’t know you were here tonight.”

“I’m here many nights,” Can Hu said, “reliving old days, trying to find old memories lost to me.”

She nodded. “Speaking of lost things,” Uva said to Shiv, gesturing toward Can Hu, “Can Hu here is a Penitent.”

“Or what remains of one,” Can Hu mused. Its voice was calm but tinged with lingering sorrow. It lowered its body and leaned it closer to gaze at Shiv. “Do I… know you? I am getting a feeling… I feel…”

And just when Shiv was about to reply, a spiritual weight slammed into him.

Foreshadowing: Eleven Penitent Chassis are left in the world. The twelfth died three days ago, murdered by the Legacy Empire for its betrayal. The remainder are scattered far and wide. One is in Jewel’s End, the land where the four Serpent Kings rule and Pathbearers are called Cultivators. One serves the Storm King’s Court in the Lost Atlantic. And the rest… are beyond your knowing for now.

But this one, this one is special. This one has lingered here for years. It found its way down into the Abyss, cast off as scrap after barely surviving an encounter on the surface. It awoke, broken but alive, and eventually it was discovered by the Umbrals of Weave. The Composer, driven by her appreciation of history and story, allowed broken Can Hu to stay, even after it revealed what it was, who it used to serve.

Then, for years, it languished. For years, it simply existed in the city, alive, granted a measure of peace, but deprived of purpose and Path.

Can Hu’s Skills remained shattered. Its body broken, unable to heal. Its Toughness ruined. Its ability to fight damaged beyond repair. And yet. Can Hu was not a machine built for despair, but for adaptation. And in it is a yearning, a dream to rise and reforge itself anew.

And thus it continued to forge, and what was once a weapon, became a maker of weapons…

And until this point, the Penitent that once progressed along the Path of the Artillerist found itself painting, building, and growing new skills to replace the shattered fragments in its soul. It thought that if it could not stand alone, perhaps it could build new armor for itself, that its broken body could be borne by another machine.

But it never expected its purpose to return in the shape of one beyond death…

Foreshadowing > 25

Shiv blinked as the vision finally faded. Shiv found Uva clutching his arm. “Shiv? Are you all right?”

“No, that was…” Shiv then noticed the machine was staring at him, motionless. “Foreshadowing.”

“You have the skill too,” Can Hu intoned. “It is one of the few that were not sundered when I broke my bonds and betrayed my masters.”

Shiv swallowed. “What did you see of me?”

“That you need armor-armor-armor.” Can Hu dropped its hammer and spasmed. “Something that has its own v-vitality. Something like .”

Uva looked between them before she leaned closer to Shiv. “You’re looking for armor? Why?”

Shiv coughed. “I, uh, apparently I’m a mana bomb when it comes to Necromancy.”

“What?”

“If a Necromantic spell hits me, if it’s strong enough, it could destroy an entire portion of the Abyss. That’s why Confriga’s whip did what it did.”

She stared at him. “Truly?”

“Yeah. Valor found out while experimenting on me in the Hallowed Depths. I, uh, I’m never going there again. Not without a lot of protection.”

“We… must talk,” Can Hu said, staggering closer to them. “I have waited long… But we must talk. We have… something the other needs. Many things the other also needs…”

“Can Hu,” Uva said, clearly uncomfortable. “You are—”

“Broken,” the Penitent finished. “I know. But he is not. You have armor. But it is dead. It cannot guard you against Necromancy. You are strong where I am broken. And I can forge. I can create. And you know me…” Can Hu spasmed again, the damage inflicted on it more than just physical.

“Can Hu,” Uva repeated, looking worried. “I know that you wish to be used in battle again, but…”

“You know what it is like,” Can Hu said, speaking to Shiv. “You know. To languish. To watch the world rise as you rot. I saw. Now. Imagine. Imagine falling. Not even being denied. But being lost to yourself. Imagine going back to what you were from what you are now.”

The automaton’s words made Shiv feel sick. “That would be hell.”

“So you understand.” Can Hu reached out with a shaking hand. “Please. Please. Consider. Please.” It looked at the model chassis in the exhibit. “Perhaps… over dinner?”

Shiv paused. “Can you even eat?”

A tube shot out from under Can Hu’s skull. “I have a tasting apparatus. I cannot digest, but flavor is appreciated.”

Shiv almost laughed. Valor was going to this.

“You are a chef,” Can Hu said, the words more statement than question.

“Yes,” Shiv said. “You saw that in your vision?”

“Indeed. I make cooking appliances for side-income,” Can Hu said, sounding almost excited. “I can show you. We can start there.”

Shiv and Uva looked at each other.

“Up for a late night meal with a mysterious bot?” Shiv asked.

She sighed, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips. “Never a dull day with you.”