[center][h1][color=#D9C966]A[/color][color=#AC9E49]s[/color][color=#80742D]t[/color][color=#AC9E49]u[/color][color=#D9C966]s[/color][/h1][/center] [center][h1]The Industrious' Chains[/h1] [b]I[/b][/center] [i]Welcome… Stand by. Stand by.. Stand by… ERROR. VITAE UNSTABLE. Attempting to bring Diagnostics Systems online. Attempting to bring Diagnostics Systems online.. SUCCESS. Troubleshooting… CRITICAL ERROR. FOREIGN OBJECT DETECTED IN CORE CAVITY. ELECTRO-AETHELIC FIELD DISRUPTED. CANNOT CONNECT CORE TO PLATFORM.[/i] Carer’s field of vision flickered on erratically, the noise being phased out little by little. The weird thing was that she hadn’t even tried to activate any of her sensory systems. She tried to move her head and felt her heart skip a beat when it moved the complete opposite way and found herself looking straight at the other two Astalonians beside her - Evoker and Knuckle. Knuckle in particular seemed to have gotten a brand new head, something that hinted at what must have happened after she had been deactivated the night before. For a while there she was forced by her own body to look at her fellow colleagues, until one by one the hum of the Vitae in their conduits started to pick up and the lights behind their visors turned on. Their bodies jerked a little as they activated themselves, and Carer’s fears were confirmed when they stared straight ahead without a word - Their Father had imprisoned them in their own bodies. Carer carried out a few tests of her own to confirm this, of course, by trying to move each of her limbs or trying to shift her form, but nothing worked. It wasn’t until what felt like hours later that an excited-looking Astus barged into the room. “Wow!” He yelled as he nearly tripped on a large wrench that had been laying on the floor. He then banged his shin against a low metal stool and hissed, “Ffffuck!” It took a few moments of him organizing the workshop before he finally turned towards the three Astalonians, his grin vanishing and replaced by a thoughtful look. He brought a finger up to his chin and tapped it repeatedly. “Aalright…” Astus muttered, walking up closer to Carer. He stood right in front of her, a full head taller, and looked down at her. Carer would’ve looked back at him, but her body wouldn’t obey her, so instead she looked straight ahead like a lifeless puppet. “No words now, Carer?” There were words to say, but she couldn’t say them. Right now, the only thing she had any control over was her Core, and even that had been difficult to control lately… “Even though you were so adamant about saving the tiny lives of the Homurans?” Carer tried her hardest to move. She sent wave after wave of commands to her body, but none would actually reach her Vitae. Still, she tried. “Good. You’re called the Industrious for a reason, and the reason is that you’re all supposed to work whenever you’re required and never question my orders. I can repurpose you all just as easily as I created you.” He explained, patted their heads and turned around. For a while, he just resumed tidying up the workshop until finally, he began to walk out. “Oh, feel free to consider what’s about to happen as your punishment for both defying me and not giving your all to work. I know you in particular have an unhealthy amount of ‘feelings’ for the Homurans, Carer, so this will be therapeutic for you. I imagine it will desensitize you to the intended nature of organic-machine interactions.” And with that he turned off the lights, walked out, and closed the door behind him. Soon after, Carer lost all perception of the world as her body went into stand-by. [center][b]II[/b][/center] [b]”GOOOOOD EVENING LITTLE HOMURANS.”[/b] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCBDlC0N8Rc]A deep, static-filled voice rang out throughout the entire Island of Astalon, reaching every corner of the land[/url]. The announcement this time caught everyone as they were making their way home from work, with the exception of the night workers. [b]”THE ANNOUNCEMENT TONIGHT IS A BIT SPECIAL - I’M SURE YOU’VE ALL BEEN COMFORTABLE LATELY WITH THE RATE OF PROGRESS WE’VE BEEN SEEING, ALL THANKS TO MY HARD WORK. WELL, I’M ANNOYED THAT YOU GUYS NEVER ACTUALLY CARED TO LEARN ANYTHING OF WHAT I DID, SO I’M GOING TO BE GETTING RID OF ALL OUR PROGRESS. OUR ISLAND WILL BECOME A BLANK SLATE UPON WHICH YOU WILL BUILD ONLY WHAT YOU KNOW AND UNDERSTAND. I WILL NOT BE CODDLING YOU ANY LONGER.”[/b] There was silence. Neighbours looked at each other nervously. Kids tugged at their parent’s clothes trying to get an explanation. [b]”AH, WHOOPS, BEFORE I FORGET - THOSE WHO WISH TO LIVE AND WORK HARD AT THEIR NEW LIVES MUST COME TO THE WORKSHOP. YOU HAVE 30 MINUTES. EVERYONE CAUGHT OUTSIDE DURING THE RESET WILL BE CLEANSED. END OF RECORDING.”[/b] And just like that, the transmission ended. For a second, everything was quiet. Then all hell broke loose. People rushed to grab whatever belongings they could carry. Some grabbed sentimental stuff while others grabbed valuables. Some even chose not to grab anything, thinking that doing so would garner favour from the Boss. Within the first five minutes, those who were close enough to the Workshop ran to it. Those who were unlucky to live further away instead hitched rides on whatever carriage they could. Many fell from the overloaded carriages and were run over, while others were pushed out into the wilderness by the panicked movements of fellow passengers. After fifteen minutes, carriages collapsing or crashing had blocked virtually all the roads of the nation, and long lines of carriages had to be abandoned as people got off and tried their hardest to run to the workshop -- though most knew it was a futile endeavor. After twenty minutes, a family of four split off from one of the large groups of people and headed out into the wilderness in the direction of the coast. Along the way, others joined them. Many of these groups formed as the hopelessness of their salvation became evident. Some of them tried to hole up in places they thought secure, but most headed for the coastal villages, where they hoped to find some remaining boats to use for their escape. After twenty five minutes, three of the legendary Prime Astalonians were posted up at the front doors of the workshop, and all other entrances were locked and barred off. The machine-persons were each holding a different weapon. Carer had a long blade slung over her hip in its scabbard, Evoker had gauntlets, and Knuckle had her fists. They stared ahead emotionlessly, even as a weeping mother held onto the cloths hanging off of Carer’s form. The woman begged and begged, asking Carer for help carrying her disabled grandmother up the steps to the workshop, and she received no response. After thirty minutes, the large front doors creaked closed, and even though dozens of people kept banging on them, they didn’t budge. The Prime Astalonians did, however. Carer unsheathed her sword in time for a shower of warm blood to fall on her - Fountains of the liquid flowing from the cut open necks of the Homurans next to Evoker and Knuckle. “W-What the fuck?!” Yelled one of the Homurans, and both him and another hid behind Carer, only for the kind machine to mercilessly cut them down, painting herself even further in the blood of her family. The three machines seemed stunned for a moment, as one last Homuran crawled away from the scene, having fallen backwards from the shock. It was a young girl, wearing a small red ribbon and a humble green and brown dress. She hyperventilated, tears streaming down her face as she stared at both Carer and the form of one of the cut down Homurans. “D-Dad…” Upon registering the sound, the three visor-covered faces tightened their grips on their weapons and walked off into different directions, with Carer herself making a first stop in front of the girl, her long, thin sword pressing against her throat. [hider=Summary]Evoker, Carer and Knuckle have all been repurposed by Astus, having their cores (souls) trapped inside their bodies. That night, Astus announces his plans for ‘cleansing’ to the Homuran populace and obviously, panic ensues. He gives them a ridiculous 30 minutes to reach the workshop in order to be safe, which is obviously not enough for those who live a hundred kilometers from it. Many Homurans head to the coasts in search of boats to use as escape vehicles, while others hole up in different ‘secure’ buildings in order to weather out the storm. Only about a fifth of the whole populace actually makes it to the Workshop before its doors close and the Prime Astalonians begin to kill all those who are still out and about.[/hider] [hider= Vigour] Starting=6 No vigour used. Ending=6[/hider]