The Heptavalent Laboratory

#Episode 1

Accumulator passed his hand in his hair, ruffling his fringe. The physicist was up very late, as usual. His beautiful pale purple hair was tied up in a messy bun. He was wearing a tattered shirt and some grey jogging pants. Not a good day. He had been working on his drones since the afternoon, and somewhat managed to get something theoretically working far after the sun had set.

His footsteps echoed in the barely lit hallway. The pale light bounced off his tired figure. He usually moved using his nasod technology, but he wasn't in the mood for that. Walking once in a while wasn't so bad.

Arriving in the laboratory section of the complex, he opened a small fridge under the working bench and, in between nasod circuits and strange looking samples, he fetched an eldrit popsicle, from the well known brand "Eliosicle".

He slammed the door closed with his foot and started the lonely walk back. As he munched on his treat, he wondered when he would be able to see Eve...

Accumulator lazily scratched his belly under his shirt. He passed his mechanic atelier and switched the lights off on his way. He then arrived at the sleeping room. He had his own quarters but did not feel like going back there. The atmosphere in this concrete underground place was sometimes suffocating him.

In the rest room, his young assistant was already peacefully sleeping on one of the bunk beds set up there. Accumulator resisted the urge to stroke gently his student's cheek as he passed next to him to reach his own sleeping location. The cheap bed creaked and squeaked as the full grown male laid on it, arms crossed behind his head, nibbling at the dry popsicle stick.

Staring at the ceiling dimly lighted by emergency lights, he asked himself what he would do when all this would be over. He spat out the wooden stick, and soon after he was soundly asleep.

________

The next morning, Accumulator was woken up by a voice whispering

"Should we wake him up ? It's pretty late by now..."

"I don't dare... he can get pretty moody when he doesn't have enough sleep"

"Haha... well mine is not better, he's moody all the time. Oh here he i-"

The conversation he was eavesdropping on was interrupted with his cover sent flying and bright lights filling the room.

"Wake up sleeping ugly ! Today is the day i finally beat your sorry ass !" A voice boomed into the rest room.

Accumulator mumbled some giberrish as he shielded his face from the sudden clarity.

"Aww man... that's not cool. I stayed up late last night..."

But the newcomer did not accept that excuse

"Well that'll make it easier for me khahahaha !"

His eyes getting used to light, Accumulator finally got up and interrupted the other researcher's maniacal laugh by slapping his hand over his face and using it to lever the other guy into the ground.

"Shut it Cyno."

He then proceeded to walk out of the room mumbling things about "people being dicks from the morning".

#Episode 2

Cyno was usually a bit of a dick. Cyno had that sharp voice that always had an aggressive tone to it, despite his best efforts. Cyno also hadn’t always been called Cyno. His full name was Cybernaut, but considering his explosive personality, people had shortened it.

He was another researcher of the Heptavalent Laboratory, but he was known for his short temper. He was the one that started that whole “looking for Nasods” thing, and he was clearly frustrated that he wasn’t getting any results.

He wasn’t exactly a theoretical engineer like Accumulator, but he had an instinctual affinity towards electrical currents and nasod energy. He definitely wasn’t keen on mechanics, but he knew how to use what was given to him on a very basic, fusion-like level.

Therefore, he wasn’t seen that often inside of the underground bunker that served as a base of operation for the #1 Nasod Fanclub, and today was no exception. He was out in the field, looking around and manhandling people in search for a clue, a lead, anything to find an antique nasod.

You would’ve thought he was brainless, and he knew most of his “crew” thought that of him, but he wasn’t just searching haphazardly around Elrios. He had a tiny sliver of evidence, back, far back in his memory, that there was a Nasod waiting for him.

But considering his impatient, short temper, he would just be laughed at, grabbing at straws and hanging on desperately to that memory, if it was even one.

Cyno sighed and scratched at his head, annoyed. He had been around Altera all week long, since there were a lot of simpler nasods around there, but there was no lead. It was all some older models, without any of the more advanced technology antique nasods had. They were infected by some sort of spore that took control of their simpler circuits and made them attack anything on sight, even though their chips had since long fried. The technological equivalent to zombies, if you will.

Luckily for him, even though he used nasod tech as an armor, Cyno wasn’t at risk being exposed to the spores. Keeping a continuous electrical current through his equipment grilled anything that dared to come near to a crisp, and his organic body was no suitable host for the green spores. So, really, no big deal.

But for some reason, he was getting a bit dizzy. Lightheadedness, sparks of energy fizzing out of his eartips and buzzing through his spiky hair. As he discharged yet another blow to get rid of some machinery wrecking havoc, his vision blurred and white dots danced under his eyelids.

Maybe it was because Altera was a floating island, so high in the air.

Cyno fell, nasod armor taking the brunt of the fall but his muscles still aching, head throbbing, fighting the urge to throw up.

He would really have felt miserable if, as he gazed around to identify where he had ended up, he didn’t see something that sparked a fire in his heart.

All around him, where he expected dirt, rust and yet more undead nasods, he saw the sterile, cold metal walls that made up Nasod architecture. Blue lights cast upon the floor, stuck doors half opened, a thin layer of dust, and a gigantism only antique Nasods could have been capable of.

Forgetting his pain, he stood up, albeit groggily, and started exploring. At first, he heavily relied on his dynamos to be kept upright, his armor kicking in as some sort of lumbar support. But soon enough, he was briskly walking through the hallways, the heavy soles of his shoes making tonitruous sounds inside of the empty structure.

Soon enough, he came upon a door closed shut. The control panel was long dead, so he pried it open, sweat beading upon his brow.

He could feel in his gut that he was close to something.

Heaving, the doors creaked open, metal slowly tearing where Cyno’s hand was grabbing it, strident cries a stark contrast to the respectful silence that haunted the place.

Behind the door, a platform that used to move, but that was out of use too. Thankfully, it was a simple electromagnetic rail, so Cyno just impulsed some energy into the ground and the apparatus started moving. Steadily, steadily, the rail leaded into a gigantic, spheric structure in the middle of the labyrinth of corridors.

The light was much stronger in there, and it took a moment to Cyno to readjust, but when he saw what was in there, he couldn’t choose between being angered, and terribly sad.

A giant nasod, probably the last nasod king, stood there deactivated, circuits empty of any energy. At his base, something akin to a cocoon with a few cables, disconnected. The glass globe covering it had been shattered in its center, giving off a disagreeable “killed in the egg” vibe.

But now, Cyno was sure his memory wasn’t failing him.

It was a long time ago, before he fell into the weird time rift that lead him many, many hundreds years later. He knew a nasod, and his most vivid memory of her was that she was taken away from him, and put in the device that was facing him.

He clenched his fist, wanting to smash the damn thing to pieces, but he knew it wouldn’t bring her back. He couldn’t remember her name, but he remembered what she looked like. And finding her stasis pod was the only proof he needed to keep going.