First thing in the morning, we approached the innkeeping monitor and requested a tour guide.
REQUEST PROCESSED
A cable whipped out from behind the monitor and joined together with a person passing by. The girl was in a wheeled chair--no, more than that, she was a part of the chair. The main wheels were connected to her hips and smaller stabilizing wheels were connected to her ankles. Her hands held onto the rails of the larger wheels, but she didn't actually move them to maneuver the chair.
She opened her mouth and a horrific screeching came out of the orifice, a nodal tone of hisses and beeps. Startled, I lept back, tripping over my own crutches and falling to the ground.
"We don't speak the machine's language," Charlie protested to the monitor. "We need another guide."
REQUEST HAS BEEN PROCESSED. TIME UNTIL CURRENT REQUEST EXPIRES: 23:58:52. VISITORS ARE ALLOWED ONE REQUEST PER DAY PER VISIT. TO RESET TIMER, PLEASE ACCEPT TOWERBORN TERMS OF AGREEMENT AND ALLOW ACCESS TO YOUR OPERATING SYSTEM.
The wheeled girl spun around and headed out the door. Sam sighed and helped me to my feet. "Charlie, see if you can at least get us a monitor." With that, we followed the guide out the door and into the city.
Much of what we were shown was similar to the mecho-organic structure of the cables I described yesterday. Every so often the girl would stop at what we assumed was a local landmark and "talk" in her screeching tonal language.
After about two hours in, Charlie's bargaining must have taken effect for her chest bulged outward in a mockery of accelerated puberty, then cloth and flesh tore to make room for a glass screen. A picture of colored blocks spun into view and the wheeled girl toned eagerly at us.
"Tell us about this district," Sam ordered. The monitor did not help at all. While the girl screeched and toned at us, the monitor flashed a quick succession of images. An anthropomorphic mouse swatted at flies, then was chased by a giant. Sam sighed and shook her head. "I guess that's the best we're going to get." We followed the wheeled girl through the rest of her tour. By the end, my jaw was aching from gritting my teeth and Sam was muttering dire threats under her breath.
A building stood before us, the biggest structure I had ever seen. The rhythmic rise and fall reminded me of something. It took me a moment to realize the building was breathing. It was built of bone and steel, tendons framing the windows and doors. The images shown on the girl's monitor meant little to us, until the end. A towering monstrosity of girders and flesh lumbered across the cityscape, the scene quaking with every step. Observers in the street pointed and screamed in terror, some fleeing, others chosing to point small black boxes in the thing's direction.
It reached a familiar plaza where a tall concrete building stood proud against the skyline. The monster reached out with rebar fingers and laid a hand on the roof. It paused for a moment, cocking its head to the side like a curious dog. The materials that made up its unnatural body flowed over the building until only a skeleton of steel girders remained. The wheeled girl was silent during the video but I doubt even her screeches could have been heard over the screams of the terrified crowds. As I watched the creature envelop the building, I started to make out shapes pressed against the windows; faces contorted in absolute terror, fists hammering at the glass.
More people fled the area when the creature began engulfing the building but some remained. A poor decision, once the creature had finished eating the building, tendrils whipped out and wrapped around hapless bystanders. Those that hadn't already taken the chance to run did so now; unfortunately the monster proved to be much faster than they. Even as the tendrils captured people, cables started to grow from the building's roof. The more people it grabbed, the faster they grew.
"Enough," Sam said finally. "We get the idea."
The video froze. I looked up at the building before us, then back to our guide. "What is it doing now?"
A clip of a boy draw in bright colors, with large "Z's floating above his head as he snored, oblivious to the people sneaking past his bed.
"Sleeping?" I watched it rise and fall. A whimsical part of me imagined that I could almost hear it snore. "What happens if it wakes up?"
The girl made her first remotely human movement of the day, a small shrug. On her screen, a giant monster breathed fire and obliterated an entire city with careless movements.
"I'm ready to go back now," I said, barely stifling the shudder that ran down my spine.
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