Chapter 1C And So It Begin |Fillian and Hailey|

TWO WOMEN TALKING ABOUT THEIR PROBLEMS
THEIR STORY DIDN'T HAVE A HAPPY ENDING
WELL, COULDN'T SAY THAT WAS A SPECTRUM
BUT AT LEAST WE ALL KNOW THAT WAS RENTING

Date: 14 March 2130; 22.40 (10.40 PM)
Population: 11,561

Once again, while carrying Helen on her back, Hailey and Fillian were walking toward the Center Hall.

Fillian, leading the way, glanced back at Hailey and Helen and explained, “Don’t worry, darling. We’re in the safest place ever. Makori and his parents were very thoughtful when they built this. The sewer system here is more advanced than your average sewer—no joke. This sewer feels more like a bunker than anything else. Each section of the district has at least multiple shacks or some sort of building. Isn’t that insane?”
Hailey looked down, lost in thought, and finally said, “Hey, Fillian.”
Fillian glanced back at her, “Hmm? Yes, darling?”
“If I may ask, why do you look so shiny and bright even though we’re in the middle of an apocalypse?”
For a second, Fillian looked ahead again and replied, “You know, I wasn’t always shiny and bright at the start of this apocalypse. I was gloomy and stressed—I almost gave myself up to those robots.” She paused briefly before continuing. “I hated myself because I couldn’t be stronger and fight for my life. Those robots were tough, especially the ones that could turn into vehicles.”

They both fell silent until Hailey broke it by asking, “Vehicles?”
“Yes, vehicles,” Fillian answered, glancing at the sewer ceiling as she walked. “I remember my first encounter with them. I was at my farm in District 7 about five years ago, during the second wave of robots. I panicked and ran straight to my barn to hide. But little did I know, my family’s tractor had transformed into a robot and massacred my parents.”
Hailey was about to apologize, but Fillian raised a hand to stop her. “No, it’s quite alright. I’ve come to terms with it.”

Fillian sighed and continued, “When that happened, I couldn’t move. I froze in place and just watched. Then suddenly, another robot came in. But this time, there was a human mounted on top of it. He looked at me and said we had to go before more ‘bully robots’ arrived.”
Hailey’s brows furrowed. “Bully robots? What the hell? How many types of robots are there?”
“There are tons now. We don’t even know how many.”
“Could you explain them more? I already know the basic robots—the ones that follow rules like not shooting lasers in alleys or permitting transformation into another occupation.”
“Heh. I don’t know if I can explain them all that well. You’ll have to ask Makori. I mean, he’s the one who designed them. I just know that the bully robots were Type 13ULL and IC variations.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, you see, Makori was a very creative guy,” Fillian explained, then turned back to whisper, “Self-proclaimed.” Returning to her normal voice, she added, “He made these robots with all sorts of changes and named them with numbers and letters. You know, like Rony Strak—the rich metal guy from Martel’s movies. While Rony used ‘mark’ as his indicator, Makori used ‘nama’ because it’s part of his name and also means ‘name’ in Indonesian. On top of that, he gave them variations to make them unique. The one I just mentioned, IC, was variation number 5, which we call ‘Intellectual Computer.’”
“So... there’s a ‘nama’ and a variation for every single robot?”
"Yeah, nuts, isn't it?"
Shocked, Hailey fell silent, staring at the floor.
“Darling, don’t worry,” Fillian reassured her. “We’re all scared too. Just don’t think too much about it.”
“How?” Hailey replied, frustration in her tone. “We’re in the middle of an apocalypse, and you expect me to calm down?”
“No, no,” Fillian clarified. “I said don’t worry—not to think too much about it.”

After a moment of thought, Hailey sighed and changed the subject. “You know what, Fillian, you’re right. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Eyy, that’s the spirit, darling.”
“First of all,” Hailey asked, “why do you call me ‘darling’? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.”
“Oh, you don’t like it? Then how about ‘honey’?”
“What? No. I’m just curious.”
“It’s just the farmer way, yo,” Fillian said. “I’ve talked like this since my thirties.”
"... Really?"
“Yeeaas, really. Ain’t it feel like your local farmer? Just broozin’ and croozin’ about cows and chickens.”
“Huh. That explains your way of dressing.”
Upon hearing that, Fillian turned back, mock-offended. “Wait, what? Is there something wrong with my look?”
“Sorry about that,” Hailey replied, smiling faintly. “It’s just been a while since I’ve seen a farmer—without goggles on their head and an engineer’s belt, that is.”
Back on track, Fillian said, “Hehe, we’ve gotta be prepared for anything, y’know? There’ve been leaks of EC and Biskit variations coming in.”
"Huh?"

"Yup. We all have to be cautious."
“You all really live on the edge, huh?” Hailey said. “I guess that’s why you’re so shiny and bright. Being gloomy would only stop you from staying ready for a robot attack.”
“Ding ding ding—100 points for ya!” Fillian said, pointing two fingers at her. “Anyway, how about you? What did you do before the apocalypse?”

Hailey froze and hesitated. “I... I don’t really like talking about it.”
“Hm, okay then. What about your daughter? How’s she doing?”
Looking at her sleeping daughter, Hailey smiled faintly. “She’s a very gifted kid. I’m proud of her achievements so far. At her age, she’s won two school competitions and is skilled at swimming.”
“Oh dang! Just hearing that, she sounds like a hard worker. Glad you’ve got a talented kid, darling. Hope she becomes an elegant lady in the future.”
“Yeah...” Hailey trailed off, looking down. “Elegant.”
"Hmm? What's wrong?"
Hailey sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “My daughter has a disease that’s still unknown. I don’t even know if the chips implanted in her brain are helping. And I...” She paused, then whispered, “I worked as... a pole dancer.”

Fillian slowed her pace, walking beside Hailey and patting her back. “There, there.”

“I never told anyone—not even my husband or my own daughter. I was desperate and went to a local club to dance. I got the money for those chips, but now I don’t even know if they’re helping. It’s been three years with no progress. Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted those apocalypse clinics. I should’ve done it before the apocalypse began. Instead, I waited, and when it started, the doctor working on her medicine was killed. I spent another year dancing to get more money, but I still don’t know...”
Fillian stopped for a moment to comfort Hailey, giving her time to collect herself.

After ten minutes of walking, they finally arrived at the Center Hall.
“Hey, thanks for the walk and talk, Filly. I feel better,” Hailey said.
Surprised, Fillian grinned. “Oh, em gee—honey!”
A man standing by the Center Hall overheard them and greeted them. “Oh, Fillian. Are they new guests?”
Fillian, still smiling, waved at him. “Ayy, yo, Hamsey. You heard her? She just called me Filly!”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard it,” Hamsey replied, then opened the door with a number code on the wall.
The door slid open.
“Right this way, ladies,” Hamsey said with a polite bow.
“Thanks, Hamsey,” Fillian replied. Hailey, though quiet, bowed slightly in response.

Inside, the Center Hall was filled with survivors sleeping in every corner. The building wasn’t tall—just a single level—but it expanded far to the back. Each wall contained rooms, totaling 30: 10 armories, 5 changing rooms, 3 utility rooms, 5 bedrooms, a large indoor playground, a dining hall, a machinery room, a security room, 2 giant closets, and a waste incineration room.

“This doesn’t look like a Center Hall,” Hailey remarked.
“Yup. Like I said—more like a bunker,” Fillian replied. “Well, there you go. Hope you have a good night. It’s already past 11, so you should get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she added as she walked back to the entrance.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

This chapter has been proofread by Spectrix0.