The Madness Series/Efflorescence

 Table of Contents: Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Epilogue

Chapter I - Dirt
 Anzix

Well. That’s that, I guess. It’s over. End of story. I can go home now. Eat a bit, wash it down with a swig of water. Maybe some coffee, that’ll be a wild night. Then hit the sack. Sleep. Ready up for the next day. Mmm. That sounds good. Real good. I kick at the ground. The dirt, dry enough to pass for dust, poofs up in a cloud and is near-instantly whipped away by the rather strong wind. Yeah, the wind. The weather has been seriously messed up these last few days. A lack of mountains, trees, and general terrain does that to an island. One might think that, hey, isn’t that weirdly-named place you were on supposed to be really nice or something? I was planning to take two weeks off there. And I’d say, sure. That was right. Xeno Nui was a beautiful paradise, an immaculate blend of lush rainforests just humid enough to trick you into thinking it was of the tropical sort, and the dense, slightly nondescript forests where my home, Haven, stood. Oh, all the tourism pamphlets used to really emphasize poplar trees for some reason. I guess that was important. Yeah, yeah, ten percent of the South Xenon forests were comprised of poplar trees, yadda, yadda. Except I can’t go home. There’s nothing to eat, nothing to drink. Nowhere to sleep, and nothing to look forward to tomorrow. I remember it so vaguely, I think. There’s this really blurry bit, kind of like someone took my memories and stuck them in a blender before handing half of them back to me. The first clear part was when someone’s body hit the floor. Not sure who’s, to be frank, a lot of people’s bodies have hit the floor lately. Then a pop. Just, pop. Now, in my defense, it was a really, really loud pop. Imagine a pop as loud as… hm… as loud as Tsukumi yelling. Yeah. Imagine Tsukumi just screaming ‘pop' in your ears. That’ll do nicely. I wonder how she’s doing, haven’t seen her for several days. Back on topic. Loud pop, everything’s gone. Buildings, gone. Grass, gone. Trees, gone. Matoran, Agori, gone. Even the clouds, gone. It was all just an illusion, a wonderful, beautiful, illusion, spun from a Chronicle’s power, or something. Now, it’s just dirt and gray skies as far as the eye could see. Even the sun rarely shone anymore, despite a marked lack of clouds. I guess this husk of an island wasn’t worthy of its light. This dirt is a disgusting shade of puce-brown, by the way. I simply have to get that off my chest. Anyways. The familiar sight of the low, rolling Shyla foothills were still present, as was the North Xenon Mt. Atlas. If anything, seeing them brought more dismay since they confirmed this was truly indeed my once beloved home, not another location. At one point, I somehow wandered to the coast of the island, only to find a choppy, slate-gray sea instead of the pristine, gently sloping beaches I’ve been accustomed to. Waves as tall as a Kane-Ra crashed mercilessly against sheer cliffs, offering no route of escape, only a quick ker-splat. A most foreboding sight. And that’s just one part of this massive, ah, mess, to put it lightly. With each Chronicle lost, another layer of the Deathmatch was revealed, often something extremely inconveniencing, like the aforementioned lack of Xeno Nui. The layers of this rotten, good-for-nothing Deathmatch onion just keep on coming, it seems. Let’s see. So, we now know that whenever someone dies, something stupid happens with the Deathmatch’s set of rules. And we also know who exactly was conscripted to this Deathmatch, though most of us managed to deduce that long before. But it’s nice to have some confirmation. In addition, we also know what Chronicles are being held by the other contestants, as well as the powers of their respective tablets. I don’t care. I don’t care about any of that. The most crucial bit is this one other guy who had to go off and die, dispelling our false memories, except for the knowledge who’s died so far. It’s exceedingly maddening. So, there’s this niggling feeling I’m getting, and every time I think about it… I roughly drag the back of my hand across my mask. I think some sand got in my eye. And these long-lost memories? I wish I never got ‘em back. Apparently, I was manufactured by Infernum solely to fight in this Deathmatch. Who woulda’ thunk. Anzix, hero of the Aqua Magna island chains did not exist. Anzix, the greatest swordsman this side of Spherus Magna was not real. I’ll be honest, it's hard wrapping my head around this current predicament. Just thinking about it makes me clench my teeth. In frustration, I kick up some more soil, though, this time, the stiff breeze blows the dirt backwards. I must say, this coating of dark puce grime doesn’t suit me. No matter how I think about this, something big, something real big is missing. And the more I think about it, the more I shift from being furious to depressed, and back again. I look up, giving my neck muscles a brief respite from hanging my head for so long. Oh. Would you look at that. A house of some sort. Probably a lingering illusion. There it stands, literally in the middle of nowhere, its walls caked with a thick layer of puce. It was a lonely abode, surrounded by flat dirt plains for mio around. I could make out some brickwork, however, and the roof was more or less untouched by the elements. Once upon a time, I think, it would have been rustic and picturesque, maybe like one of those fairy tale cottages. Despite the possibility of all this being a figment of my imagination, I smartly rip open the weather-worn door and make myself at home. Even if the structure wasn’t the real thing, I forced myself to believe the illusion. It would at least give my brain a false sense of warmth. It was a small room. Bare, wooden shelves dominated most of the walls and bags of… something… were piled in one corner. Didn’t look like food, though, so I couldn’t care less what the contents were. And, blessedly, the floor was wooden. No more of that dirt. I think I’m just gonna curl up on the floor and cry myself to sleep while being mildly irritated.

Chapter II - Water
I groan. What time is it? Augh, my arm! Must’ve fallen asleep on it again. This hardwood floor really wasn’t meant for sleeping, but at least it’s indoors and relatively safe. Giving my back a good twist to get the cricks out, I blearily rise to my feet, only to bump my head. Instantly, I recoil to find a lightstone dangling from the ceiling. A lightstone? There was no lightstone yesterday, I’m sure of it. I’m not alone. A bright, young female voice rings out. “Oh, why, hello there, sir! I’m glad you’re awake now!” What in Tren Krom’s name, when did she get in here? I didn’t hear the door nor her footsteps. By Mata Nui, I’ve lost my edge. Still somewhat dazed by the lightstone’s radiance, I blindly call out, quite literally, “Who’s there!” My mouth almost refuses to function as my words clumsily tumbled out as it has been quite a few days since I last spoke. The white fades from my eyes and before me stands a Matoran…wait, no... a Matoran-like being. She seems unarmed and not at all dangerous, but one should never judge a book by its cover. For the sake of my still-sleepy brainbox, the figure before me will henceforth be classified as ‘one of the little people’. “Please forgive my rudeness, sir! I am terribly sorry for this inconvenience, allow me to speak with my manager to further assist you.” I frown and cock my head. I haven’t been this confused since Amea accidentally shoved me into the Muaka den all those years ago. Who is this silver, Faxon-wearing person? She’s clearly not from Bara or Bota Magna, I see no hint of organic parts, but neither is she a Matoran, for she had no heartlight. By Artahka’s great chinstraps, just what is going on here? No, wait a sec. By the Spirits, the Muaka thing was fake. A memory I cherished that much sure was hard to let go of. Though shaken, I manage to formulate a complete sentence in response. “Just tell me your name.” “Oh!” Sorry about that, sir. My name’s Flower, pleased to meet you!” “That’s a stupid name,” I scoff. She’s definitely not a Matoran. Anyone who got that sort of name when created by a Turaga or on Naming Day would probably have sent themselves to Karzahni. Flower bows her head apologetically. “I’m very sorry that my name causes you inconvenience, sir. If I am unable to serve you properly, please let me know and I will call for my manager.” I hold up a finger. “You can start serving me better by stop calling me ‘sir’. I hate the sound of that title.” She instantly brightens and a wide, beaming smile appears on Flower’s mask. “Very well, Mr. Customer. I will remember your preference for your current and any other future visits.” ‘Mr. Customer’ sounds even worse, if that’s possible. Ugh, she’s really starting to get on my nerves. And let’s not forget I still have no idea what she is. “Please, Mr. Customer, right this way. It will not do for you to stay in this dirty storeroom a second longer.” Flower walks out the door and is instantly coated with a fine layer of puce. Right. Of course. The storeroom is just simply filthy. Undeterred, she pulls the door further out and jauntily waves an arm at me, wearing that bedazzling smile all the while. Fine, fine, I’ll go. But only because she’s letting in that puce grime past the doorframe with how wide she’s holding the entrance open. I must have been utterly exhausted last night to have missed the rest of this building. Flower leads me towards the front and I now see a two-story complex attached, though I still can’t really make out what the building looked like originally. The hapless gal reaches into a compartment on her leg and pulls out a key ring, fumbles with it for a moment, and finally unlocks the mildly rusted gates. Now, she has to actually open them. She heaves at the barrier, quite a feat for someone her size; The gate was easily a head taller than her. And, being the absolute gentleman that I am, opted to stand to the side with a bemused look on my mask. Huffing, Flower turns to me and sheepishly asks, “Mr. Customer, would you mind lending me a hand? Master Luemas usually does that, so I am truly sorry for my ineptitude. I assure you, this won’t happen again!” Shrugging, I reach over and haul the iron grate to one side. If I try hard enough, I can pretend I’m helping a Matoran getting ready for a busy day at the Haven Marketplace. Sneaking a glance over at the semi-Matoran Flower, who’s doubled over wheezing heavily, I tell myself it’s close enough. “Wait a sec, who’s this Luemas fellow?” “Why, he is the manager!” Flower cheerily replies, albeit with a few concealed huffs and puffs. “This is the Luemas and Co. Floral Shoppe, here to assist you with any of your botanical needs! Perhaps you’ve heard of us?” “Of course I’ve heard of you guys,” I sigh wearily. Flower claps her hands in delight. “Wonderful!” she exclaims. “Are you a returning patron, then, Mr. Customer?” I almost laughed with despair. Have I heard of Luemas and Co.? Karzahni take me, I used to live a block away. And I passed by their happy little shop every time I wanted to head towards city center. “No, I’m not,” I replied simply. Oh, well. I guess this just proves this entire thing is a grand old hoax. Whoop de doo. What fun. Yeah, yeah, you got me good, Infernum. I’ll play along with your illusions for a little while longer, see how much I care. Flower nods understandingly. “Not a lot of people visit florists anymore. That doesn’t mean I can be lazy though! Master Luemas trusted me with keeping this shop neat and tidy, and even if he’s off on a business trip, I still have my duty.” Raising an eyebrow, I point out, “Luemas must have been gone for quite a while, yeah?” “Indeed. It’s a little bit worrying, but I know Master Luemas will return safely.” “Look, Flower, how do I put this...” I trailed off, speechless. Suddenly finding it rather difficult to convey the jumble of thoughts swirling around, all I could offer was a lengthy, exhausted sigh. Yeah, just talking to Flower was so, so exhausting. I, somehow, have to explain all this: there was no Luemas, there was no Haven, and there is no you. Delusions, all of it. With great effort, I manage to continue. “Flower, I don’t think Luemas is going to come back any time soon.” “No, that can’t be quite right, Mr. Customer. Master Luemas promised me he’d be back.” I couldn’t help but let out a quiet tsk before replying. “Then why don’t you ask the nearby vendors when he’ll come back, then?” If I’m talking to an illusion, am I talking to my own thoughts? Just a random idea. “Ah, thank you for your kind consideration, Mr. Customer. I have to inform you, however, that I’ve already tried doing that.” “Oh, really? Now, just how did you manage to do that?” I ask incredulously. “Well, since most of the nearby shops moved to a new location, I sent out telepathic messages to their shopkeepers. I haven’t had any responses, though. I guess they moved to the other side of town.” Just how stupid is she? No, no, I take it back. Flower wasn’t stupid; She was just naive beyond belief. But how? How could anyone be this sheltered? What was she, the long-lost Princess of Spherus Magna? Come on, Infernum, this is outrageous. Of all the blasted illusions, you had to give me this. Sighing wearily, I follow her lead and we finally enter the store. It was a pleasant surprise, the interior, much more neat than I’d imagined, seeing as she was so clumsy. There wasn’t a lot of green, though, that was a bit worrying. Maybe a quarter, maybe even just a fifth, of the store had anything worth looking at. Not much else caught my eye, but the decor seemed to be a cleaner version of what I saw in the storeroom. If there was more light, maybe this store would look a tad less dingy. Dusty, slightly off-white sheets were also draped over a good number of tables, probably over unused pots or tools. Strangely enough, there were no cobwebs. I guess there really was no other life on Xeno Nui save for the two of us and these here plants. All hope wasn’t lost; For once, Flower’s done something right. It was clear she had her priorities in order and salvaged the most beautiful and exotic collection of ferns, flowers, and something that suspiciously looked like it twitched when I glanced at it. I instinctively harboured a great dislike for that one. It scares me. “Oh, you’re interested in that one? His name is Fred,” Flower points out, somewhat helpfully. She skips out from behind me and crosses over to the other side of the long, wooden table. ‘Fred’ wasn’t even the most striking specimen on the pockmarked, soil-encrusted table. I saw a few pots of completely transparent flowers. Only the base of their stems were green while the rest of the plant could very well have been outlined with the airiest gossamer. I see another oddity, this time something resembling a sapling. Was it just me, or did it seem to be breathing? I blink. Yup. It’s breathing, alright. “Quite an assortment you have here, Flower.” It was a grudging compliment, sure, but I meant it. None of the team had green thumbs except for Valaryx and I’d rather not see her face again, in case I get the overwhelming urge to cave it in with my fist. “Why thank you, Mr. Customer. I’m simply doing my job.” I scoff. “Job? What job do you have now?” I’d bet two grand that she’d say shopkeeper despite there being no customers, that stupid little- “Oh, my job is to make the customer happy! As long as you are satisfied, then so am I.” I blink. Well, then. “Well, is that it?” “What is, Mr. Customer?” I sweep my arm. “All this. ‘Cuz if there’s nothing else, I may as well head back to the storeroom. Hope you don’t mind a new tenant, especially one’s who looking for free lodging and food.” The shrimp all but grabbed at my waist. “Ah, but Mr. Customer! You haven’t even see our collection of aquatic lilies yet! Please, they’re right this way!” Flower gestures towards a completely dried up glass tank. Heaving a great big sigh, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Ok, ok, I’ll humour you, Flower.” “Humour me?” she responds with a perplexed frown plastered over her mask. “What do you mean?” “Just entertain me, you know? Then maybe I’ll decide to stay here longer.” Flower raises a finger. “Ah, but Mr. Customer, wouldn’t I be humouring you, then?” I crack a fleeting grin; It was a rare moment of wit from Flower. Just like initially speaking, it was almost awkward smiling. I had to get used to that sort of thing after a week or so of contorting my mask in an assortment grimaces and frowns. Flower clearly has no qualms about this sort of thing, though. Her radiant smile could have lit up an Archives tunnel. “Wait a sec. Before anything else, I really need to know something. Just what are you, Flower? You’re neither a Matoran nor an Agori, right?” “Well, Mr. Customer, I’m an APA, an Automated Personal Assistant. The tasks assigned to me are, first and foremost, to keep this store tidy. My second duty is to care for the well-being of all the plant specimens here. Thirdly, I am to initiate and complete transactions with customers. And lastly, I am to directly assist Master Luemas in any projects or further tasks he has for me.” I blink. “Wait, so… you’re a robot? We have those?” “According to my processing signature, I appear to be a final testing model created by Defilak and Balta Enterprises.” I guess that makes sense seeing as those two guys were famous inventors back on Aqua Magna. And this would conveniently, very conveniently, explain Flower’s behaviour. “But how? Haven’t inventors struggled to create sophisticated AI for centuries?” “Again, according to my stored data, we APA are created very similarly to how Turaga create Matoran, just without sugar, spice, or anything nice.” I raise an eyebrow. “Sugar and what, now?” “That’s what the data says, Mr. Customer. I’m not too entirely sure what it means, actually,” Flower sheepishly confessed. “Huh,” mused. “That’s… interesting. But if your most important job is to keep this joint clean, what about keeping customers happy? I distinctly remember you saying that, too.” Gah, I’m spewing out questions like some Agori rugrat to what apparently is a robot, no less. Flower finishes up with Fred and turns to me. “Well, er, that bit is also part of the programming. Actually, it’s hardware so it’s already included. It’s pretty much impossible to overwrite the fact that I have to obey any Matoran, which extends to keeping customers happy.” “What about Agori, then?” “Master Luemas bought that additional add-on for me at some point, Mr. Customer, not to worry.” Yeah, nothing about this is the least bit surreal. Just me nonchalantly talking to an AI about its functions and inner doodads or whatever. Of course I don’t need to worry. At least reminding myself that she’s an illusion helps a bit with the headache, but it doesn’t appease my empty stomach. There’s yet to be a hunger illusion. “Is there any food around here, Flower?”I ask abruptly while straightening up. “Some water might be good, too.” The automaton taps her chin in the perfect imitation of deep thought. “Perhaps there might be some left in Master Luemas’ room. Why do you ask, Mr. Customer?” I almost groan with frustration. “Because I’m hungry, why else?” Before I even finish speaking, Flower is already violently shaking her head. “Absolutely not! Master Luemas has specifically told me to not let anyone in his room under any circumstances!” “Look here, I’m not gonna go inside. Just grab some grub for me, ok?” “I am also under direct orders to protect his belongings. They must not leave this building unless authorized by him. Mr. Customer, if you would like food, might I recommend Golyo’s Eatery? It’s just across the street. Or perhaps you’d be more interested in Kamen’s Kebab Emporium? Just turn left, and- ” I am this close to hitting something, this, of course, being a rhetorical measurement. ‘I was closer than Teridax was to world domination’ would be more accurate. Has a nice ring to it, too. Back to potentially hitting something. “Flower, just shut up for a second. Look. I’m not going to leave this store, so it’s fine to give me food. Does that make sense?” By Mata Nui, this loophole had better work. The silver Faxon-wearer, again, taps her chin, but she’s also added a frown of concentration to her repertoire this time around. I hit a nearby table as politely as I possibly could. “Alright, then!” Flower suddenly exclaims. “I will be right back with a meal, Mr. Customer! I ask only for your patience.” Holding back a weary sigh, I grab the nearest stool I could get my hands and plop down. I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again: Flower is so tiring. I’m beginning to question whether I should’ve just bundled myself into the back room and save myself all the damned trouble. The food, Anzix. The food will be worth it. I’ve heard how, unlike us Toa, Turaga, and Matoran, the people of Bara Magna had to actually eat every single day out of necessity. It boggles the mind, but that was just how it was. Mind you, the guys and I had certainly been having three square meals each day with the occasional grand feast thrown in by Tsukumi and Kaede. Since they were all fake, I basically haven’t eaten in a month. Starving doesn’t even come remotely close to describing how empty my stomach was right now. “Sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Customer! Here you are!” Flower hands me a small pouch. On closer examination, it was instant airweed oats. It could’ve been worse, I guess. “Flower, give me some water for this stuff. And hurry up,” I add. I’m not having another winding conversation about Mata Nui knows what. “I am truly sorry, Mr. Customer,” Flower replies without a trace of regret in her voice. “I am unable to give you any water. Would you like me to inform the other stores nearby for assistance?” Oh, wonderful. The start of a winding conversation, just what I wanted. Please, Infernum, kill me now. “What do you mean you can’t? I saw you watering what’s-its-face… uh, Fred earlier.” “Giving a customer water meant for taking care of the plants violates my programming, unfortunately. I seem to be running into the same strange interference from earlier when contacting the nearby proprietors, though. Mr. Customer, do you want me to keep trying?” I turn my head backwards as I pass the iron gate. “Sorry, Flower, what was that? I couldn’t hear you from all the way out here.” “Oh, leaving already, Mr. Customer?” “Why, yes, Flower, I am.” I tense up, ready to bolt if the crazy robot tries to convince me to stay a second longer. Flower smiles gently. “Very well, I await your return. Oh! Hold on a second!” “What?” I ask brusquely, while plastering my own awkward grin all over my face. By Karzahni, I hope she shuts up soon so I can hole myself up in the storeroom and have nothing more to do with her. “I never caught your name, would you mind telling me?” “It’s Anzix.” Flower nods. “Thank you, Mr. Customer, I’ll be sure to remember that. Have a nice day!” “Yeah,” I reply through clenched teeth. “You, too.”

Chapter III - Sprout
It’s been a few days, now, and neither one of us has made any attempt to contact the other. I myself have altered my sleeping schedule; I sneak outside in the dead of night to the dusty old well I found where the market square might have been to keep myself hydrated. Food was a bit of an issue, though. In fact, my stomach feels like it’s about to eat itself. Having spent time just away from it all helps a lot. Staring at the same old walls for days on end makes a man think, you know? Makes him realize that he was a bit of an idiot. But the kicker is that it’d be way, way too embarrassing to plod back into the store and talk to Flower. And thus, the nightly ritual continues. I can’t bear to face my mistakes and man up. Hopefully, Flower wouldn’t notice the well slowly but surely emptying. The water itself was foul and tasted like mold. Stank worse than dead Visorak, too. Must have been stagnant for a week, at least. Know what else stank? I do. And when I stink, so does the storeroom I’ve holed myself up into, not that it smelled terribly good in the first place. Unpleasant stench aside, it was still the same storeroom I stumbled into, though a few difference serve to remind me of Flower’s presence. For starters, she had forgotten to take the lightstone. Without it, I may very well have slept outside where at least the shrouded sun gave off a dim excuse for light. And, of course, the dirt stain on the pockmarked wooden floor from when she held the door open for me. Mata Nui, the day I first arrived here feels like an eternity and a half ago. I secretly wish Flower would visit me. But, I highly doubt it. She’s probably keeping herself busy with her imaginary customers and whatnot. If she did, though, that would save me a whole lot of trouble and boredom. But, I kept asking myself, why don’t I just walk away from this entire farce? Now that would save just about everything. Aha! So this is what it feels like to do a hero’s monologue. As the great warrior finds his faults, he spends a good while talking to himself, reflecting, making connections and finding solutions no one bothers to care about. Then, of course, after reconciling with his past misdeeds, he must make amends. Gah, that’s the hard part. I’ll do it, don’t get me wrong. I’ll apologize to the little robot. Just… maybe later. My stomach gurgles in agreement. Or maybe it was just gurgling for no specific reason. Ask not for whom the stomach gurgles. It gurgles for thee. Nah. She said she’d wait for my return. No way Flower was going to leave that stuffy shop. And oddly, she never came into the storeroom for any supplies either. Right. You know what? I want the moral high ground. I ain’t about to lose to some machine, despite me being half machine. Aha! My former wit has returned. Good. And I’m totally not going insane from boredom and talking to myself. Here’s what I’m gonna do: I’m gonna march up to that dingy store, tear open the front door, tell Flower thanks but no thanks, sorry but I’m not sorry, and get the Karzahni out of here, never to return. Gotta make it sincere-sounding, though. Beautiful. Ten out of ten. And, to make myself feel better, I nod at my own clever scheme. Up I get. Left foot in front. Good, making progress. Then the right. Ah, don’t forget to breathe, Anzix. Atta’ boy. The big, whooping breaths calm my nerves down a bit and my hands stop shaking, something I wasn’t even aware of up until now. I don’t get it. Why am I so scared? Still in thought, I gingerly open the storage shed’s door, taking great care to not contribute to the already unsightly dirt patch. I barely know Flower, yet even I can tell I’m not acting like my usual self when I’m around her. Previously, I just assumed I was a bit bitter over this whole “oh, your life is fake” deal, but, clearly, it seems like there was something else afoot if I can’t even muster up the courage to talk to her. I think I’m gonna pin it on the fact that she’s a robot. The fact that the little Faxon-bearer was a machine unnerves me, I guess. But if she was indeed a machine, then all the more reason for me to show her who’s boss. If everyone was as wishy-washy as me, Spherus Magna would get enslaved by the very robots we created in no time. That would be inconvenient. Well, there it is. Luemas’ floral shop, looming over me. Never in my fake memories have I ever balked at an inanimate object. My vision seemed to zoom out, the distance to the store growing exponentially farther away by the second. What was just a hundred meters became mio of dusty plains. And yet, I find myself by the entrance seemingly against my volition. Steeling myself, I try to muster up a sense of purpose as I barge through the grimy doorway. Flower really isn’t a big deal, I’ll get this over with quickly. Before the door shuts, I’m already yelling. “Flower! I need a word with you!” I proclaim with all the bravado I can muster. Oddly, I get no response. Was it oddly, or thankfully? Nevermind my apprehension, though. A cursory glance was all that I needed to see that she was missing. So, let me get this straight. I spent hours agonizing over Mata Nui knows what only to find no one to gripe to. I didn’t drink that well water for nothing, I am going to find that sorry little walking pile of junk. But what better place to hide junk than in a building full of it? Flower must have been extraordinarily hard at work since I last saw her since there was hardly a spot free of either gardening tools or topsoil. Only the counter was spotless, which came as no surprise. Knowing her, she was probably still expecting patronage. Ah, but the staff door behind the desk was slightly open, though I could see specks of dirt leading further inside. And this wasn’t the dry, dead dust outside, this was the same topsoil smeared all over the worktables. Clearly, this was to be my breadcrumb trail. What is this, am I a detective all of a sudden? Am I in an episode of Water Gafna’s Clues? Jokes aside, that was a great show. Loved every second of it.

I hopped over the low, Matoran-sized countertop and pushed the staff door open where a narrow, unlit hallway led further into the shop. A snap of my fingers brings a bright spark of plasma into existence, revealing yet another door at the end of the corridor. This one is probably locked, seeing as it was made from solid steel. Well, no matter. I’ll just cut right through it. In one fluid motion, I draw my blade and ram it straight into the metal barrier and nearly whack my head against the door with my own force. It was far, far flimsier than I expected and in fact, had I not realized this, my own sword would have ended up impaling my own foot. Hm. The light was on, though it was not a lightstone’s comforting yellow-white sort. It was a harsh blue that left no shadow hidden. I found myself squinting to try and make out what was the source of it as. From what I could discern, it was a tiny, cramped space. And the second I stepped in, I was greeted with the low hum of machinery. Clicks and whirrs too, maybe signifying monitors or more advanced equipment. The cacophony wouldn’t have been so bad anywhere else. This enclosed room, however, served to echo the low noises into something approaching an annoyance. But… this light. Despite irritating my eyes, it was a beautiful electric blue, not to mention eerily familiar. “Flower? You in here? Flower?” My voice grows louder with each word, and it is only when I practically holler her name that I finally notice a reaction. A frantic scrambling ensued from my left and the dazzling glow was mercifully shut down. To absolutely nobody’s surprise, it was Flower who stood before me as the room cleared. She stood, clearly shocked, with her hand over a classic red button. Except it was blue. I guess that wouldn’t make it a classic red button, would it? Now that my vision was finally restored, I see a single, very run-down computer terminal scrunched in one corner of the room, responsible for the hums, whirrs, and other assorted what-have-yous. Even with my old memories, I didn’t recognize the manufacturer of this decrepit model. Only Metru Matoran would know, I think. That contraption was clearly the ugly twin, as the chair, no, the throne, almost, that Flower sat on was a complete polar opposite. Not including the aforementioned blue-not-red button on one of the armrests, every inch of the seat was covered in flashing diodes, sparkling with every shade of blue imaginable. Not even all the oceans of the world held such an array of colour. “Oh, Mr. Customer! I’m afraid this room is for employees only. Could you, er, kindly escort yourself out? I’m a little bit busy to see you off, as you can see.” She looks down and hastily hides a pair of headphones behind her back, the really flimsy kind you’d see for free use at the Haven Library. Ah, so that’s why she couldn’t hear me. “Uh, will I regret asking what you’re doing with those headphones, Flower?” Flower stiffens just the slightest bit, but brings out the headset all the same. “Sorry, Mr. Customer. Force of habit. Master Luemas doesn’t like me using these while recharging. He said something about it rotting my ears and electronic sound waves being bad for my delicate little head. I have a lifetime warranty, thank you very much.” It’s been a while since I’ve listened to anything but footsteps crunching on various materials. Oh, and Flower’s annoying voice. “Whatever. Pass that over here, Flower. Maybe some good music will do this sorry excuse of a Toa some good.” “Nonsense, Mr. Customer,” Flower replies as she hands over both her finger-sized music player and the headphones. “You are by far the best Toa I’ve met.” Pausing, I throw her a glare. “Don’t tell me, I’m the only Toa you’ve met.” Flower cocks her head. “Not to worry, I won’t.” With an exasperated sigh, I pop on the earphones and tap the play button the music player, which, like the recharging terminal, was pockmarked and dented with extreme age. Ah, excellent. Flower was listening to one of Thom Sail’s recent hits and rare duets, “Be Brave”. If I remember correctly, he sang it with Javelinne, another renowned singer. Come now, do you want to dance together? Or is someone else on your mind? Are you gonna run away forever? Or will you have a change of heart? Come now, enough with the troublemaking. I know what you're trying to say. Goodness, lying to yourself and to me. I guess I'll have to dance with you. I'll make the taste, you make the flavour, It'll make the mixture that much better. We're the wind and waves, So come on, be brave. This doesn't taste or look as it should, It's no good, turn away, throw it out. Now do it again, So come on, be brave. “I’m surprised you listen to stuff like this, Flower. Since you were a robot, I dunno, maybe you were listening to static? Or maybe white noise?” Flower raised her eyebrows. “White noise? I am unable to hear such types of frequencies. Are you implying you can?” If she wasn’t a robot, I’d call her out for sass. I decide to just ignore the comment. “In any case, good choice. Before the end of the world as I knew it, Be Brave was around the top fifteen hits of this year.” “Mr. Customer? This year?” “Yes, Flower, this year.” I slow my speech as if I was talking to a young Agori. “It was being blared out constantly over the radio, don’t you remember?” She blinks. “My databases show that Thom Sail died years ago, Mr. Customer. In fact, about a century has passed since his death. If need be, I can send a copy of the file to the printing kiosk down the street for you to pick up, free of charge.” Everyone experiences dread a little differently. Maybe it’s that feeling crawling down your neck, or, for more organic fellows, goosebumps. Right now, it’s as though a ball of lead was lodged in my gut. “Has the destruction of the island knocked a few of your screws loose, Flower? I know it has for me.” “I do not have a protocol installed to deal with this situation, Mr. Customer, but I assure you I am telling the truth. Would you like me to run a self-diagnosis to check for any corrupted sectors?” I wave my hand, signalling for her to go ahead. So this is the part where I get some great plot twist revealed to me, right? Will I have to choose between two pills? No, no, lemme guess. I’m secretly a time traveller. Or, better yet, Flower is the time traveller. She’s secretly an Av-Matoran with Toa-level powers and can pull a Longinus by transmuting herself into pure photon energy to travel at light speed. This would make for a great science fiction, perhaps I’ll pitch the idea to Thom Sail once all this is over. “Scan complete, Mr. Customer,” Flower abruptly announces, startling me from my delusional brainstorming. “I seem to have no errors, save for depleted batteries; I badly need to get back to recharging. Therefore, I apologize for any inconvenience I may cause, but I simply must ask you to leave for now.” “Now, just hold on one second, you can’t just brush me off like that. What in the world is happening? I know Infernum messed with my memories, but… but… Just what is happening here?” “Infernum? I have no information of that term in my database.” I snort. “Here, put this in your database, Flower. Infernum is a psychopathic Great Being who finds enjoyment in ruining lives and destroying islands.” Flower nods. “Duly noted.” “And he’s short.” “Very good, Mr. Customer.” With my venting complete, I continue. “I’m not leaving until I get answers, robot. I’m a Toa of Plasma, I’ll charge you up right here and now.” The little Faxon-wearer met my offer with a look of skepticism. “I appreciate it, Mr. Customer… but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to use your power. I would think plasma is strong stuff, quite a bit more than what my charger can put out.” Flower gestured at the beaten-up machine. Ah, so that was what the sorry excuse for a computer was. Sure enough, “36% charged” pulsed softly on the monitor. “No problem. I’ll just power up the computer, it certainly looks like it needs a pick-me-up anyways.” “Wait, I don’t think-” Silencing Flower with a raised finger, I bunch my free hand in a fist. At once, my Toa powers obey and the familiar tingly sensation of pure energy starts to leak out from between my fingers. Well, it feels tingly to me. It may or not be excruciating for others, I’ve never tried hitting someone with supercharged matter. I ought to try that one day, maybe whack Infernum upside the head with it. Cracking my knuckles, I wind up the good old-fashioned solve-all to any technological problem: a heavy-handed slap. Ignoring Flower’s worried look, I give the computer a whack. The plasma made contact with the over-glorified charger and rather than jolting it with energy, it burnt a hole right through it. Ok, well, to be fair, it sort of burned through the whole thing. I basically just put the thing out of its misery. Slowly, I turn. And just as slowly, the worry slips off of the little bot’s face, only to be replaced with shock, surprise. And that, too, gave way to dismay. "Uh, Mr. Customer?” Guilt finally catches up to me. “Y-yes, Flower?” I stammer. “Do you happen to know a Toa of Iron? I’d like this fixed as soon as possible.” I blink with in more than a bit of confusion. “I do, but, y’know, he might be evil. You’re… you’re not mad?” If I was confused, Flower was far beyond consternation. “Why would I be mad, Mr. Customer? You are, well, the customer, after all.” Incredible. She is still refusing to become angry. In fact, she may very well be incapable of anger. “So, now what?” I ask. “I was looking for you to apologize for my earlier behaviour, and I caused yet another ruckus. Look, Flower, when I searching for you earlier, I planned to just say sorry, and get the Karzahni out of here. And now what’ll happen to you? You’ll run out of battery eventually, right?” “Well, to be perfectly honest, you can still do that, Mr. Customer. I should be alright.” “I am a Toa!” I declare. “Well, I’m a fake Toa, true, but I look like a Toa, right?” Flower politely applauds. “And it has come to my attention that I have not been acting like a Toa lately. Rather, I have been like a stinking heap of Tarakava turd. Am I correct?” “Mr. Customer, I still have a overriding protocol from earlier that forbids me from commenting if you are a good Toa or not. Would you like me to delete that protocol?” “No.” “Very well, Mr. Customer.” “And since much of this excrement-like behaviour was directed at you, Flower,” I point to her with the authoritative index finger of a Toa. “It is only fair that you are to be the judge of me.” “Really, Mr. Customer, I don’t want you to force yourself. As I’ve said before, I’ll be fine without my recharger. I’ve been in service for three hundred and twenty-six years, it would be a better idea to just replace me with the latest model. I recommend the K-ANE Seven-six from Balta and Nuparu.” “We’ll get to that timey-wimey thing in just a sec, Flower, hold your Rock Steeds. I need to spend a few hours meditating on that, to prepare my mind. Maybe do some yoga. But I still need an answer from you. What can I do to set things straight?” I pant slightly as my magnificent speech comes to a close. Flower doesn’t give me much time to catch my breath, however, as she spends less than a minute deliberating. “Mr. Customer, Master Luemas keeps a small shelf full of snacks and candy by the front desk.” “You mean he kept them on that completely demolished wire rack? Gotcha, yep, go on.” “He once caught a young Agori trying to steal a bar, see. So he said you will work for it. He kept the boy for about three hours before letting him go. If a chocolate bar is worth about three hours, and we equate one turd to a chocolate bar…” I narrow my eyes. “Flower, I have to ask. Are you really a sheltered little robot who is incapable of sass?” Flower turns to me. “Why, of course, Mr. Customer.” Her Faxon is completely unreadable. It could easily either be the straightest of all straight faces, the poker-est of all poker faces, or simply Flower and her clockwork noggin acknowledging me. Hmmm. “In any case, I have put together a few calculations. Again, if you would like, I can send them to the printing kiosk down the street for your convenience. I will require you to work for one week at this store. Will that ease your conscience, Mr. Customer?” That’s a lot of turd. I mean chocolate bars. “It would. Oh, and by the way, the printing kiosk got replaced by an empty lot, if you can consider a square mio of dirt a lot. Just letting you know.” Flower briskly passes by me and steps into the darkened hallway. “Nonsense. If you are lost, I do have a directory and a map at the front desk.” “Right behind the busted wire rack, right?” “Precisely. I’m glad you already know the general layout of the store, you’ll be an excellent asset, Mr. Employee.”

Chapter IV - Flower
One day later You know, it’s not all bad. I mean sure, the work is boring, much more boring than I expected, but it could be worse. I could be dead. That wouldn’t count, would it? Flower, thankfully, is extremely lenient as the head honcho. In addition, she turned out to be pretty darn smart too, though I found that unsurprising for a purely mechanical being. Too bad she’s extremely knowledgeable about all the wrong things. She can list out the fifty-seven angiosperm genera no sweat, whatever that means, but can barely operate the cash register which had somehow survived for, oh, what was it again, three hundred or so years. Flower doesn’t know anything about that either. The three centuries thing. Centuries. Just thinking about it makes my head spin. We Matoran, and by extension Toa, live for quite a while but even we can’t brush off that length of time. “Mr. Employee, I’m sorry if this inconveniences you, but would you mind passing me the pruners?” “Yeah, sure. Where are they, again?” Flower points at the tool shelf right behind me and I dutifully fetch her requested clippers. In sharp contrast to the rest of the late Luemas’ shop, each device glinted in the dim light, clearly lovingly kept in perfect working order as the rest of the shop deteriorated. My job was mostly was to just clean up after Flower and to either water or fertilize a plant after she was done trimming or whatever with it. Easy. Easy, but boring. “So, uh, Flower. Any updates on, you know, the island? Even a little bit would do.” “Master Luemas does not allow any unrelated talk while working, Mr. Employee. Please carry on.” So yeah. It’s not Flower that’s the problem, it’s some dead guy. I have to wait until my lunch break to ask, and I’ve been dying inside from the wait. I realize I sound like a Matoran fresh out of the Machine, but seriously, I can hardly contain my curiosity. The apprehension and general feeling of impending doom, though, I wouldn’t mind leaving aside. “Well, that’s not quite true,” Flower admitted in an apologetic tone. “He mostly just told me to get back to work in his outdoor voice.” “That, uh, sounds rough. But aren’t robots incapable of lying?” We stare at each other uncomfortably for a painful half-minute. Literally painful, in fact, as I struggled to keep my eyelids from shutting. But, at last, the robot wins the staring contest to absolutely nobody’s surprise. “Mr. Employee, do you want to hear the island’s story or not?.” After a quick rub of the eyes, I turn to reply. “Of course, of course. Do carry on.” Finally! If I can get just one step closer to unravelling Infernum’s plot, I’ll gladly work here for the week. Gladly put up with it, that is. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Employee, but I actually do not have anything at the moment to share with you as I never needed any historical data to perform my duties.” “What.” Luckily, she was quick to go on. “However, I can search my databases for any and all relevant information going back to the beginning of civilization on Xeno Nui. There are currently just over a googol potential answers. Would you like to add any search parameters?” Hmm. This search thing is actually pretty handy. “Yeah, uh, go back what was it, three hundred years? Make it three hundred fifty, I guess. And try to focus on Haven and my fellow Toa.” “I will begin straight away. It will only take a day or two.” A day. Well, then, I guess I’ll take back the compliment. With a sigh, I wave the automaton away. “Sure, just let me know when it’s done. I’ll get back to watering or whatever.” “Actually, there is something of utmost importance that I could use some assistance with. By the time we’re done, my scan might even be complete. Here, follow me.” Flower hops down from the low stool she was standing on and all but skips towards the back of the store. I notice the hanging basket she was tending to now glowed with a shimmering array of colours. What did she feed those flowers, plutonium? By the time I caught up, Flower has already switched into tour guide mode. “As you can see here, this is the Luemas and Co. greenhouse! We grow all sorts of seasonal vegetables and fruit year round here.” By now, I knew the drill. Everything Flower ever showed me was all part of her dreamland utopia. Greenhouse? Yeah, it was clearly one maybe back when the Great Spirit Robot just got made. Now it’s just a shoddy square of rusted iron and dagger-like glass protrusions. Good thing the tomatoes are fine though, as Mata Nui knows what would happen if we would have no tomatoes. The horror. “Here, here, Mr. Employee. What do you see?”

With an oof I drop to one knee. Even kneeling, I’m just slightly taller than the standing Flower. “I see watermelons. Many watermelons.” “Excellent observation. Do you happen to like watermelons?” Inexplicably, I feel taken aback by that straightforward question. It’s just yes or no, right? But… I feel like the answer should be obvious. “Flower, why would I not like watermelons? I mean, just look at them! They’re… they, erm… yeah. They’re great.” Right, that sounded a whole lot better in my head. “I’m glad to be working alongside an enthusiastic employee such as yourself, Mr. Employee. Now, if you would.” Flower heaves aside one of the fruits to reveal a diseased stem with ugly splotches of brown and black. “Great Mata Nui,” I exclaim. “That’s disgusting. And are those white wriggly things maggots?” Flower nonchalantly pokes at the stem. “Not quite, they’re just aphids. But as you probably can guess, that’s not the main problem.” “Right, those black spots look downright dreadful.” Flower nods vehemently. “Exactly my thoughts. This is a case of gummy stem blight and we are unfortunate enough to have to deal with it. However, on the flip side, the fungus doesn’t spread well in a dry environment. I think the weather lately has been a bit arid…” With a laugh, I reply. “You think, Flower? It’s a miracle your crops are still alive, in my opinion.” “Oh, it’s nothing,” she modestly responds. “Now, normally, Master Luemas would give me a specific fungicide for this.”

“Ahh, but Luemas is away on a vacation. A very, very long one, yeah?” “Unfortunately, yes.” Flower plants her hands on her hips, seemingly deep in thought. “You could burn the blight away, Mr. Employee,” she eventually concluded. “It would take great precision but it will work. Probably.” This time, I’m the one with the doubt. “Isn’t the rest of the plant, you know, flammable? And you’re not worried I’ll melt something else?” “Mr. Employee, there are times when we must set aside our personal qualms for the greater good.” “That has to be sass. Robots can’t possibly be capable of dry humour.” Paying not one iota of attention to me, Flower pops open a compartment on the back of her neck and drags out a cable. Why does that motion remind me of a vacuum cleaner? And what is even more odd was the fact that the cable had no plug; It just ended in a rounded bit of wire. “I’m sorry you have to see this, Mr. Employee. It greatly embarasses me to have to resort to an emergency protocol but would you kindly hold onto that end?” This is all very strange. What does this wire have to do with the watermelons? “I guess so, Flower, but why? But why, though?” “Instead of you, I will control your actions with this here wire. Don’t worry, the whole process is slightly painless.” “Wait, what?” Flower shoves the wire in my hand and before I know it, something utterly alien presses against me. I whirl, frantically looking about. No one. No one but us dikapi in here. “Hello? Mr. Employee?” I nearly fall over when I hear her voice. I could have sworn she was talking right into my ear. But, no. Flower hasn’t moved an inch. In fact, she had taken a seat on the planter’s edge and shut her eyes. She could very well be meditating. “Is this thing on? Hello? Hellloooo?” “Argh! Yes, yes, stop yelling, Flower!” I look at Flower. She’s not yelling. At all. “Oh, good, you’re here. I’m in your head, by the way. Just think and I’ll hear you.” Taken aback, I begin thinking. Wait, no, that didn’t come out right. I begin this particular sort of thin- “I understand, Mr. Employee. I’m sure you’ve done large amount of thinking throughout your life, that is perfectly normal.” “Gee, that’s wonderful news. Thanks for sharing. And what’s with the fancy telepathy?” “Just think of this as something a Kanohi Suletu would do. Plus, I did say I’d be doing the work, right? So we are going to swap places for a bit. It’ll be a fascinating out-of-body experience.” The alien presence draws closer, threatening to enter… something. I instinctively shy away. I can’t help but feel like a tiny flame while the looming form somehow coalesces into a wall of the hardest protosteel. It’s cold to the touch, very cold. But at least it had the courtesy of asking nicely before invading my thinkbox. “Mr. Employee, I will initiate the transfer in sixty seconds. I highly recommend you to hold onto something, preferably something sturdy. Under no circumstances are you to let go of the wire. Various internal organs such as, but not limited to, your lungs, heartlight, and entire nervous system may explode, implode, or both.” “Uh…” “Not to worry, I have run multiple simulations, no harm will come to either of us.” I gulp, at a complete loss for words. The only thing I can do is hold onto the largest watermelon I can get my hands on for dear life. Suddenly, staying here seemed like a terrible idea. “Alright, Mr. Employee, I’m in. If it is not too much trouble, would you mind scooting over a bit? Your brain is slightly cramped.” “That’s it? I expected excruciating agony, irreversible trauma, and months of psychology therapy.” “All that comes after the transfer, not to worry. There is a medical clinic one block south of us, I can set an appointment if needed.” “No, thanks, I’m good. Well, not really.” “Very well. You will begin your move in five seconds.” “Flower, if I die, I am going to-” And I’m gone.

And I’m back. Hey, that wasn’t so bad! Oh, wow. I look terrible. In fact, I could pass for a Toa of Iron seeing as my once pristine white armor could barely be seen through the layers of muck and grime. And I never realized I was quite so big as a Toa. So, I’m Flower now. This is what it’s like to be a robot, huh? I was hoping for some fancy doodads and flashy heads-up displays, kind of like in Thom Sail’s Eliminator movies. Alas, that is not the case. Flower is surprisingly normal, save for the little voices in her head. ''“Ms. Flower, the boxwood needs watering!”'' “Don’t forget to prune the petunias later today, ma’am!” “Hey, you’re not Flower!” “You smell funny.” Truly remarkable. So that is how she keeps up with everything around the store, she has imaginary little house gremlins speak to her. Yeah, Flower isn’t crazy at all. But the little bot was certainly right about one thing; This truly was fascinating. It’s strange seeing yourself, even more so when a face you know has been marred by stress and anxiety for the past few weeks is suddenly clear, as if someone had turned that frown upside down, which, of course, someone really did in this situation. I’m no master of body language, but look at this Anzix is like looking at a completely different person. He’s smelly, he’s filthy, but he’s happy. If I pretend hard enough, this is the Anzix I was a month ago. “Oi, Not-Flower, the scan is half finished. You wanna see some preliminary results?” “What? Uh, sure” I blurt. Flower’s voice makes my hands fly up to my mouth in shock. By Artahka, using her voice feels weird. I don’t get a response from the imaginary gremlins, but Anzix, wait, no, Flower turns to me with a quizzical look on my mask. Her mask. Something like that. “Mr. Employee, what seems to be the problem?” Oh, there’s a huge problem. If I ever hear my voice say Mr. Employee again, I will die of embarrassment multiple times over. Even now, it takes all of my self-control to hold back a shudder. “Nothing, Flower. Just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.” Whew. Ok. If saying it aloud doesn’t work, then I’ll try that thinking thing again. “About time you figured it out, Not-Flower. Now come on, I don’t have all day here, bucko.” “Yeah, yeah, just give it to me, hurry it up.” I can actually hear a tsk in my head. “Dear Mata Nui, no need for attitude. What’s the magic word?” It’s a shame you can’t beat up figments of your imagination. “Please,” I deadpanned, letting the word roll off my mental tongue and plop to whatever constitutes as a floor while speaking to imaginary acquaintances. A veritable bombardment of data threatens to drown me. So this is Flower’s search engine? I must say, it’s terribly inefficient. So you have mountains upon mountains have information. Heck, the mountains themselves have mountains, if that makes any sense. So this is what it means to be a robot. “Hey, little people, you still there?” I hear an odd shuffling somewhere near the back of my head. “Whaddya want, we’re playing Break Melee. This better be good, boy.” “Aren’t I technically older than you if you don’t exist? So calling me boy wouldn’t be right, would it?” “Look pal. We’re the ones who are three hundred years old, and Mata Nui knows how old you are. So make like a tree or something, yeah?” “There isn’t a single tree for miles around, or anything for that matter.” “Whatever, kid. Look, what do you want, I’ve got a wiseguy using Pigglyjuff I have to deal with.” “I just want a bit of help sorting through this mess you dumped on me. I can’t be bothered to wait for the scan to be done, this stuff I have may very well be enough to solve this mystery.” “For the love of…” I swear I could hear a door slamming shut. Goodness, Flower certainly has an active imagination. “Ok, here, Not-Flower. This bit’s on Tsukumi, and that’s Xaedan.” Each of my teammate’s names brought with it a folder, sealed with a loop of string. “And here, this is ✌︎❍︎♏︎♋︎. Figure out the rest yourself.” I do a metaphysical double take. “Sorry, I didn’t catch the last one.” “I said 01000001 01101101 01100101 01100001! Are your ears rotten? Luemas always did say not to listen to music while charging.” “What? I don’t…” “.- -- . .-! I’m not repeating myself again!” I bristle at the, quite frankly, rude treatment I was given. “You know, I’m almost certain it’s you guys that cause Flower to act bonkers.” “Well, it’s currently your brain inside her body, wouldn’t that make us your inner demons? Heh. Now, scram, kid.” Obviously, I couldn’t see him, but the smirk the annoying little bugger clearly had plastered over his stupid face was more than palatable. With a heavy sigh, I try to calm my nerves. Well, whatever. Time to get started. And if this is all just in my head, I might as well get comfortable. I imagine myself. And so it is done. And I imagine my house, back in Haven. But that would be too boring, let’s shake it up a bit. I think I’ll have a Thom Sail the Tank Engine wallpaper. Mmm. Perfect, just what I’ve always wanted. I think the weather outside is rather frightful as well, but the fireplace is roaring merrily. I guess the lightstones on the wall should be dimmed, fitting for a blustery winter night. And I would like to think that I have a nice hot cup of cocoa by my side. And, of course, the room is warm. Hm. Maybe a bit too warm. Exhaling with exhaustion, I plant my imaginary bum in an equally imaginary armchair and open up the documents. Let’s see… Tsukumi, yes, Toa of Water, sure. Like I didn’t know that already. And the document just goes on to list her arrival on the island, yadda yadda yadda. I know this already, this tells me nothing. It’s all the same fake garbage planted in me by Infernum. I guess I’ll just skip the Xaedan file, then. Probably more of the same repetitive drivel. It’s a shame I didn’t get any files on the island though, looks like I’ll just have to wait for the entire scan to finish and for Flower to give it to me in her usual eccentric manner. So. The mystery folder. I open it. Lo and behold, it’s all just a jumble of letters. So I was given a dud? Great. This was a huge waste of my time. By Karzahni, if this is the crap Flower ends up giving me tomorrow… Hm. I notice a few coherent words. ‘Blind’. ‘Kindred’. ‘Watermelon’? That’s a weird one. Oh, it gets better. I even see ‘Anzix’ near the bottom. Yes, yes, just slap my name somewhere and make it even more confusing why don’t you? Honestly, it’s hard to decide who’s more annoying, Flower or Infernum. I’m just going to sleep on all this. I’ve no idea how much time has passed since I started talking to myself, but I’m beat. Some alert signal part of Flower’s system started flashing red anyways, this is probably an excellent time to just pass out and not be responsible for it. And if this is indeed la-la land, I can just think about going to sleep-

Mmm. Cold. Something wet and cold. Regretfully, I wake up. At least I’m me again. Bleh. I spit out a pebble from my mouth, no doubt an indicator of yet another fitful sleep. Somehow, I ended up getting unceremoniously dragged from the watermelon patch and was dumped, face-down, in the strawberries. To make matters worse, it was drizzling and while that was a welcome change to the monotonous lack of weather, it’s a never good thing to stay out too long. Gotta hand it to Flower, though, I’m surprised she managed to heave me all the way here. Speaking of Flower, she is slumped over a watermelon, still dozing or whatever it is robots do. Funny, her falling asleep on the big old green fruit reminds me of… hm. I forgot. I must be getting old. Hauling myself to my feet, I tuck Flower under my arm and enter the store. The tiny robot snored lightly but otherwise complied quite nicely. I guess I’ll just dump her behind the counter seeing the only stool left standing was there. This black book wasn’t always here, was it? I roughly dump Flower down on the chair and she mumbles something about the printing kiosk in protest. Now, this thin book, this notepad. What is this, Flower’s diary? Without a moment of hesitation, I flip to the first page and am met with disappointment. It’s just the sales ledger. I almost chuckle as I notice the exceedingly impressive number of zeroes. But the more pages I flip, the more the lightheartedness is replaced with a sense of pity. By Mata Nui… each page. Zero. Zero, zero, zero. Just how long has she been here, all alone? My body says no, but my mind’s telling me yes. A quick peek under the table only confirms my worst suspicions. If one were to brush away the small warren of dust bunnies that had taken up residence under the counter, they would see a neat stack of the same cheap, wire-bound notebooks each undoubtedly filled with pages representing a day without a single transaction. Well. At least this confirms the fact that, yes, Flower has been around for at least quite a while, even if this is one of the worst possible ways possible. Right. The time thing. She did say the scan would be complete today. “Hey! Flower, wake up!” I give her a poke. Nothing. I am dying to know, and I bet that’ll actually happen sooner or later if I don’t solve this conundrum. Out of sheer boredom, I flip through the led store log again. I wonder what Flower will say for the time I’m here? Let’s see, I’ve been here for almost a week… Ah, here we are. Zero… still zero… but she did leave a footnote. ‘Client left dissatisfied. Will work to improve customer service.’ Ugh, I still feel bad for snapping at her. The next few days, which I believe I spent cooped up in the storeroom, also had some notes. Nothing but zeroes for transactions and returns, but she had jotted down a To-do list for each day. Most were fairly mundane tasks, but I do notice a rather dubious entry: ‘Try to sell Fred.’ Well, then. If memory serves, I returned… yes, the next day. A sale of fifty-six chocolate bars? Oh. Haha, Flower, very funny. But it’s the note that made my heart skip a beat. Flower had written: I made a friend. Aw jeez, I’ve always had a soft spot for that sappy stuff. Strangely enough, yesterday’s page was entirely empty. Ahh, she must have had fallen asleep before getting a chance to fill it out. “Why, Mr. Employee, you’re already awake?” Grasping my heartlight, I whirl to find Flower alert and ready to start the day. “Mata Nui, you startled me. First thing’s first. Is your search thing finished?” She tipped her Faxon, no doubt consulting those clowns in her head. “My search is not yet complete. I however, do need to note that my battery is in need of charging.” So that’s what that red alert was for. “But you said you’ll be fine, right?” “Certainly. I simply need to obtain a replacement charger and I resume my duties.” “You’re kidding me.” “Of course I’m not, Mr. Employee, why would I do that?” “Flower! Look around you!” I yell in a fit of rage. “Look! Everything is gone! Why do you insist on telling me these lies? Aren’t machines supposed to be incapable of lying or something? There’s nothing! Nothing…” My voice trails off finally culminating in a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry, Flower. I hate to break it to you but… th-there is no replacement charger. Whatever juice you have, that’s it. I’m… sorry. It’s all my fault.” Flower sat quietly throughout my tirade. Never did she blink nor move a muscle. “I see, Mr. Employee. Then this calls for emergency protocol.” “Yes! Finally, you’re getting it. C’mon, can’t you enter some sort of low-power mode? If I meet up with my teammate, maybe we can figure something- Hey, hey! What are you doing?” “Emergency protocol dictates the following: All plants must be given a week’s supply of water and nutrition. All produce that are ripe must be harvested and all-” “For Artahka’s sake, can’t you forget about your stupid protocol for one second? You can always come back after you’re fixed, right?” Flower is already shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Employee. I was built to serve the populace of Xeno Nui and no other directive has a higher clearance. Seeing as you are rather distraught, however, I do have one proposal.” Narrowing my eyes, not daring to get my hopes up, I spit out a single word. “What?” “If we can complete the tasks, then I will concede to closing the store for a short period of time while we find a repairman.” This little shrimp of bot isn’t going to budge, it seems. “Fine. Let’s hurry it up, what do you need me to do?” “I appreciate the help, Mr. Employee. We will start with the shop interior-” “Hurry up, Flower. Just tell me.” “As I said before, everything needs to be watered and fed. We also need to clean all the tools lest they rust. The till also needs to be emptied and secured, and the store ledger need to be completed.” I nod. That’s not too bad. “Let’s get to it, then, and quickly, too. And your scan is still ongoing, right?”

“Of course, Mr. Employee.” Without another word, I grab the bag of plant food and hastily begin sprinkling Fred with his breakfast. Flower stayed where she was but prepared to fill the ledger. “Oh, goodness me. I forgot to complete yesterday’s entry. I am sorry for my incompetence, Mr. Employee.” “Think nothing of it. Your notes are interesting, though,” I grunt. “Ah, you read them? Yes, business has not been easy lately, I’m afraid. I’m very glad you stumbled upon this humble store. Perhaps this you are the first of many more patrons.” I drop the fertilizer to the floor and seize the watering can. “What do you think, Mr. Employee?” I takes me a second to realize Flower was talking to me. “Yeah, what is it?” “What do you think, Mr. Employee?” she repeats pleasantly. “Of what?” Flower sets down the notepad. “Do you think if I am repaired, I will be able to continue fulfilling my duties? And do you think if I am able to provide enough service, most customers will come?” With my free hand I point at her. “Flower, hear me now. I swear to the Great Spirits that I will have you repaired. I swear that I will personally take return you here to reopen this store. And when this is all said and done, I swear you’ll have more customer than you can possibly manage.” “Why, thank you! I better keep up with your pace if I am to live up to your expectations.” Colour me red and call me Tren Krom, did I just say all that? It seems as though, against my better judgment, I’ve gotten used to Flower. Someone as hard-working as her can’t be all bad, right? In any case, I can’t wait to see the look on my teammate’s faces when I introduce them to her. We’re all nutjobs, Flower will fit right in. “Right, I’m all done here, Flower!” I exclaim while scooping up the bag of nutrients. “Excellent timing, Mr. Employee, I’ve just finished sorting out the tools. Now, we must tend to the produce.” “On it, bossman,” I reply with a grin. Ah, old Anzix! Welcome back old buddy, long time no see. I’ve missed you. Throwing open the door, I charge into the ruined greenhouse, paying no heed to the light rain. “Flower? Where are you? C’mon, hurry!” No response. “Flower? Flower!” Turning, I see her limp form in a heap just outside the watermelon patch. Swearing, I rush to her side and desperately grasp her arm. “What happened? Flower? You still there?” She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. No. No! “Speak up! You just tripped and fell, right? You’re always doing something like that, clumsy as you are.” My pitiful attempt at laughing this off fools no one, least of all me. “Oh, hello, Mr. Employee.”

“Oh, thank the Spirits, you’re ok. What’s up with your voice?” Flower’s voice had gotten oddly tinny and scratchy. “My vocal generator has been shut down to preserve energy. I am currently speaking to you through my sound system as it is one of my critical setups.” “Flower, lose the computer talk. What are you saying?” I ask, though I already know where this is going. “Mr. Employee, my batteries are completely depleted. I am running on my emergency generators and have two minutes befo-” My yell drowns out the rest whatever Flower said; I heard more than enough. “Flower, I told you! You should have just come with me!” “Please forgive my rudeness. I am terribly sorry for this inconvenience, Mr. Employee.” Already, her voice is growing softer by the second. I sit back. I’m just tired, so tired. So, so, tired. All I can do is just stare at Flower. Her limbs have fallen still, her Faxon is propped against a watermelon. She could very well be sleeping if it wasn’t for her dimmed eyes and failing voice. “You know, Flower, ever since I clapped eyes on you, you reminded me of someone.” “How… interesting, Mr… Employee…” “I still don’t know who though. Now, I just wish I hadn’t ruined the peace you enjoyed in this store.” She chuckles weakly. “Nonsense. You’ve been… the best employee the store… has ever had.” “You’re just saying that to be nice, we both know I’m useless compared to you.” “I’m just... a robot, Mr. Employee. I can’t… possibly be better than whom I… am created to serve.” At a loss for words, all I can do is just continue staring at her. How long has it been? A minute? A minute and a half? Will she just power down at any notice now? “Mr. Employee…” Her voice is far too soft, forcing me to lean in to hear her laboured words. “Mr…” “Yes, Flower?” “Beside my… neck output. Open it… but be… careful…” I latch onto each of her words, for each of them could very well be her last. “If not… careful… damage…” I frown. “Damage what, Flower?” She smiles. But it’s not one of her pleasant smiles she’s greeted me with every day. Oh, no. This one is different. I never thought I’d see the day where Flower would be wryly grinning. “You’ll… damage my… sass… drive…” Am… am I hearing her correctly? “You-you’re kidding right?” The rain continued to fall, heavier now. I could have sworn it was the rain, it must have been the rain, but water flowed from Flower’s now completely darkened eye sockets. “...Of course I’m... not, Mr. Employee... why would I do... that?”

Epilogue
Two days later With a heave, I tuck the last watermelon safely away into the storeroom. Let’s see, now. Seeds, check, tomatoes, check, watermelons, check… and the rest have been covered up. Oh, right! The store log, I better go take care of that. I return indoors to dutifully fill in each entry with a big fat zero, though my handwriting is dreadfully messy. Luemas would certainly detest me if he were still here. So that’s it. I can close the store now. Sure, took a bit longer than expected, but what’s done is done. It turns out Flower wanted me to remove her memory chip and try as I might, I could not find this ‘sass drive’ of hers. As for her body, it turns out three centuries really did take its toll on her. With all those missing parts and burnt-out wiring, it’s a miracle she even stayed standing. Unfortunately, there was no chance I could return this memory chip to her even if I did find a way to recharge her. As for the mystery of this island and my memories, I guess there’s just nothing I can do about it except to march up to Infernum’s, kick his sorry butt, and wring the answers out of him. Just one thing left to do, it seems. I stride over to the rather conspicuous mound of soil at the front of the store. Do robots need to be buried? In the end, I decided to not concern myself with philosophical questions and just get it over with. Right in the center, I plant a seed. To be honest, the easy part of the burial was decided that I should a plant of some sort should be Flower’s tombstone. The hard part was which. I almost went with transplanting Fred but didn’t seem very keen on moving. So I went with the a poplar tree. If Luemas and Co. are ever to return to business, they’ll need a nice city surrounded by its iconic forest. Mata Nui, I knew I shouldn’t have borrowed all those romance novels from the Haven Library. Now, it did occur to me Flower wouldn’t decompose. And you know what? That’s perfect. She was annoying while alive, and hopefully she will prove a nuisance to the tree’s roots. It’s only fitting. I turn towards Mt. Atlas. Yup, still there. I guess that’s a good a place as any to head towards. Well. That’s that, I guess. It’s over. End of story. I kick at the ground. The dirt, dry enough to pass for dust, poofs up in a cloud and is near-instantly whipped away by the rather strong wind. The weather has been seriously messed up these last few days.

Dramatis Personae

 * Anzix
 * Flower

Trivia

 * My mother supplied the initial idea for the store ledgers.