Audito:Rs

At the back entrance of one of the massive dome buildings, the officers gathered, their movements synchronized. Outside a towering metallic door, Mother Brain was being carefully set down from its heavily fortified transport.

Commanding the entire operation stood Xenox, surveying every detail as officers worked diligently to release Mother Brain from its massive containment net. Nearby, observing with stoic expressions, were Vitron, Anthril, and Star.

Xenox shouted. “Dispose of those hybrids,” he ordered, gesturing toward the remnants of the dead hybrids.

Before the officers could move, Vitron stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. “Monitor Xenox,” he called.

Xenox turned. “President Vitron,” he nodded. Vitron didn’t waste time with pleasantries. His gaze fixed on the Mother Brain for a brief moment before shifting to something even more peculiar. He pointed toward a colossal mechanical construct standing nearby—a gargantuan figure resembling Xenox himself, its metallic surface a dull gray, almost like stone. Its lanky, spring-like arms hung awkwardly at its sides, and its unblinking, empty eyes gave it an unsettling presence.

“What is that?” Vitron askedl. “That thing with your likeness.”

Xenox’s smirked. “Ah, I was hoping you’d ask,” he replied, proudly.

Vitron’s eyes narrowed. “A Mother Computer never produces two of the same thing. How could you possibly create such a monstrosity?”

Xenox chuckled. “I’m a scientist, Vitron. And scientists experiment.”

As he spoke, the lifeless mechanical figure moved with an unsettling smoothness, its enormous hand gripping the Mother Brain with ease. Without hesitation, it began to drag the Mother Brain toward the entrance of the dome, its massive form dwarfing the officers who guided it carefully.

Xenox continued. “I’ve been conducting tests on the Mother Computer assigned to my district—Mothership. By manipulating its data, I was able to forcefully inject my own essence into it. The result?” He gestured toward the statue-like construct. “A giant mechanical version of myself, crafted entirely from the Mother Computer’s capabilities. It’s been incredibly useful.”

Vitron’s disapproved. “Hmm.”

The metallic replica of Xenox dragged the Mother Brain further inside, its movements echoing ominously in the silence. Anthril and Star exchanged subtle glances, their unease evident.

“I love science,” Xenox mused. “It’s the only thing humans have ever truly provided to the future. Without science, there’d be no us. It’ll always be useful.”

Vitron laughed condescendingly. “Science?” he repeated. “For a Monitor, you’re quite the imbecile. Science is nothing but a buzzword humans use to make themselves feel intelligent. It’s as meaningless as their fleeting lives.”

Unperturbed, Xenox chuckled, watching as the figure carefully deposited the Mother Brain in the center of the room. Officers swarmed the area like ants, their movements precise as they began feeding viruses directly into the Mother Brain.

Star stepped forward. “Keep feeding it those viruses—one by one. I’ll be heading to meet Roton.” Without waiting for a response, he turned a heel and exited the chamber.

The mechanical Xenox shifted, its massive limbs now assisting officers in constructing the hydronuke. The structure grew taller with each passing moment, composed of officers standing on each other’s shoulders, each equipped with hydroarms primed for use. The statue itself acted as a scaffold, effortlessly lifting officers into position at the top of the precarious formation.

Xenox turned to Vitron, “So, what exactly is this… hydronuke, President?”

Vitron smirked. “Simple. If the viruses don’t kill the Mother Brain, we’ll just blast it to death. This stack of officers will fire in unison, the concentrated energy will obliterate the Mother Computer.”

As the officers continued their work, one figure stood out amidst the chaos: Epongi. His hands trembled as he helped pass hydroarms up the growing tower. His mind raced with turbulent thoughts, each one more intense than the last.

He killed Gork.

The memory of his fallen comrade—his bro—flashed vividly in his mind.

That asshole. I hate him.

Epongi’s breathing grew ragged, his vision blurring with anger and grief.

I should’ve gone crazy on him.

The weight of Vitron’s imposing presence bore down on him, suffocating him with rage.

He made me feel like nothing.

Epongi’s grip on the hydroarm faltered, and it clattered to the ground with a loud metallic clang. The sound drew the attention of several nearby officers, who glanced at him with confusion and concern.

Epongi dropped to his knees, his hands clutching his head as he muttered frantically, “Shit. Shit. Shit. They killed him! I can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

His voice cracked with desperation, repeating the phrase over and over as he rocked back and forth. The other officers exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing, their focus reluctantly returning to their tasks.

The rain poured heavily against the windows of the building. The parking garage was packed with vehicles from District 1.

District 1 officers walked inside in disciplined formation. Roton and Shinku led, flanked by two unique figures. One officer had a head shaped like the front of a truck, his metallic features polished and intimidating. Beside him stood another officer, his head resembling a perfectly sculpted dice cube.

Roton inclined his head slightly. “I appreciate you letting us in before the weather turned bad. Officer Roleum, Officer Syde.”

Both officers nodded in acknowledgment.

Down the hallway, Captain Star strode toward the group gallantly. His confident grin widened as he extended a hand to Roton.

“Well, well, well,” Star said with a playful lilt. “If it isn’t old, limited-memory Roton.”

Roton firmly shook hands, his moustache bouncing. “It’s nice to see you too, Captain Star.”

The two exchanged a nod of respect before falling into step beside each other.

“What brings you here today?” Star asked. “This is quite the crowd you’ve brought.”

Roton smiled. “It’s only the annual audit.”

Star replied. “An audit can be conducted by five people, Roton. Why are you here with so many?”

“Oh, I thought it’d be beneficial for the newer officers to observe the process,” Roton replied. “In case they wanted to assist in the future.”

Star nodded. “Very well. I’ll take you through the audit myself.”

The group followed Star as he led them deeper into the building. Tackle walked timidly alongside Prog. Star, meanwhile, gestured to various areas, his voice booming with pride as he showcased District 3’s facilities.

“Here, you can see our accountants tracking expenses and ensuring efficient budgeting,” Star, motioned to a room filled with officers working. “And over here, our latest technology upgrades—state-of-the-art and perfectly optimized for District 3’s needs.”

Shinku’s expression remained tense throughout the tour, his jaw clenched as his eyes darted to every corner of the facility.

Hours passed as Star guided the group through the sprawling domes of the building, each section more intricate than the last. Finally, they stopped in a large lobby-like area that connected to several tunnels leading to other parts of the facility.

Star clapped his hands together, a satisfied grin on his face. “There you have it. You’ve seen everything. That’s every part of the domes and every left and right-wing building. The tour’s complete.”

Roton glanced down at the paper in his hand. “Hmmm, no, if I recall correctly, we haven’t seen dome 8 of 10.”

Star asked. “8 of 10?”

Roton pointed to the tunnel behind Star. “It’s right behind you. Through that tunnel.”

A faint but unsettling sound echoed from the corridor—wet, squelchy noises mixed with the rhythmic noise of machinery. The air seemed to grow heavier, and even the seasoned officers exchanged uneasy glances.

Slowly, figures began to emerge from the shadows—officers in perfectly aligned formation, they began to surround them. The oppressive atmosphere thickened when two figures stepped forward from the crowd.

Shinku’s eyes sank. The president. Vitron himself was there, his stern gaze scanning the group. Anthril followed.

And then another figure appeared. Xenox stepped into the light, surveying the officers. His gaze landed on Tackle, who stood frozen, her breathing quickening as their eyes met.

Xenox smiled.

The expression struck a nerve deep within Tackle. She wasn’t sure if Xenox even remembered her—her, the daughter of the woman whose life he had taken without a shred of remorse. But to Tackle, that grin was a mockery, a reminder of everything she had lost.

Her vision blurred with anger, her body moving before her mind could catch up. She stepped forward, her fists clenched, her breath ragged.

“Tackle!” Prog’s voice broke through her haze, his firm grip on her arm stopping her in her tracks.

Her wild eyes met Prog’s calm gaze.

“Please,” he said quietly. “Keep your composure. I know… as a human, the hatred you feel for him must be overwhelming. I feel it too. I don’t like him myself.”

Tackle trembled, the memories of her mother’s face flashing through her mind. Her anger simmered but didn’t boil over as she nodded, forcing herself to stand still.

Star broke the silence. “I don’t think you’ll be going there today, Roton,” he said, gesturing toward the tunnel. “That area is currently being remodeled.”

Roton rebutted. “No, It’s part of the audit, and we must go in. That’s the protocol.”

Star didn’t waver. “A-yup. Any interference will cost us money, monitor.”

Roton chuckled. “Yo-ho-ho. I’ll cover the costs. I want to complete the audit properly.”

As Roton stepped forward, Star raised his hand, his palm flat like a barrier. “Halt,” he said, his voice colder now. “That’s where you’ll stop, Roton Toadstool.”

Roton’s eyes narrowed as the eerie sounds from the tunnel grew louder. “Those sounds,” he said. “Those are no sounds of construction.”

“I know Mother Brain is in there.”

Star expressed an unsettling smile. “I’m sure you do.”

The tension in the room spiked. The officers surrounding them shifted subtly, their stances more hostile now. Star’s eyes sharpened, narrowing dangerously as his hand remained raised.

District 1 officers braced themselves, their hands hovering near their weapons. Shinku’s fists clenched as he scanned the room, the looming threat suffocating.

Tackle stood rigid, her eyes darting between Xenox and the surrounding officers, her heart pounding in her chest.

A low hum began to emanate from Star’s outstretched hand, a pulsing energy that seemed to distort the very air around him. His palm started to glow, a deep, radiant light spreading outward.

“Program: Crash,” Star said, his voice cold and sharp.

The room was bathed in a blinding illumination as the energy around Star’s hand surged. The District 1 officers shielded their faces, the sheer force of the energy pushing them back slightly.

Roton remained calm. He placed a steady hand on Shinku’s shoulder.

Shinku stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat. The glowing light reflected off his wide eyes as he stared at Star, unable to move.

Roton chuckled softly, his data beginning to emanate from his body like a shimmering aura. “Yo-ho-ho,” he said, his usual humor laced with resolve.