Clutter makes a noise deep in his throat and takes a step forward. It’s a vicious combination of a growl and a grumble, and it’s the most dangerous noise I’ve ever heard him make. I hold out an arm to stop him from walking forward, and he shoots me the most venomous glance that’s come out of his eyes. ‘Course I’ve seen way worse, so it comes off more like a… frustrated friend.

  “Words first, Clutter.” I say sternly. “Pearl, can you tell if this thing is on a time limit?”

  She shakes her head. “None that I can see. Don’t leave the room and it should stay for as long as you want.”

  I nod to myself. “Good to know. So, Clutter–your turn.”

  He bears his teeth in a frown not directed at me. “It’s mocking me. We’re… this… it’s a paindne, just like me. The quest is saying I’m just a… servant.”

  “You sure about that?” I slowly lower my arm as I gesture at the plastic construct. “Seems more to me like this is your ancestral home, and that your people were advanced enough to make constructs.”

  “Ancestral home?! Our ancestral home isn’t… this!” Clutter grimaces and gestures broadly at everything around us. “And we definitely didn’t make a bunch of stupid endless tunnels for no reason!”

  “Well, why don’t we just ask it, then?” I turn to the construct and snap my fingers. “Construct, what’s this city called?”

  The plastic twitches, and its eyes flash brighter grey for a second. Then it falls still, twists to the side, and holds up a flat hand as if it was holding a drink tray at a bar. Holographic grey light flickers to life above its palm, but whatever’s supposed to be there is just a mass of static and noise.

  “We are in the Yunrov district of Moonwake, the greatest city of (ERROR: DATA MISSING).”

  Clutter grumbles and crosses his arms. “Moonwake. I’ve never heard of Moonwake.”

  “Of course you haven’t. The quest specifically called it a forgotten city.” I point out, which just gets a huff from him. He really hates this plastic thing for some reason. “Pearl, does the name bring up any memories?”

  “Nothing from me, sorry. Which means it’s probably after my time, since the paindne were already uplifted by the system by this point. Oh, huh. That means whatever happened to the city happened after I got locked up. That’s so weird to think about.”

  That’s… true. We actually have a specific date that this couldn’t have happened before–whenever the system uplifted a bunch of painted danes into paindne. Maybe Illumisia could shed more light on this, but we still haven’t given her enough time. She’ll need three-ish hours, so we need another… day-ish before I can bring her here. Which is really too bad–she’d probably hate this thing just as much as Clutter does. Speaking of…

  I tap Clutter’s bicep with the back of my hand. “You’ve obviously got questions. Ask ‘em.”

  “Mrgh. I… okay.” He grumbles petulantly, then takes a deep breath. “Were the people who built you paindne?”

  The construct twists back to its resting position, then dips its head. “Yes.”

  Clutter visibly tenses. “How long ago were you made? And how old is the city?”

  “I cannot say. Time was not track-ack-acked while I was inactive, and the (UNKNOWN EVENT) has rendered the keeping of ch-ch-ch-chronological time ineffectual.” The construct spreads its hands, and another screen of staticky nothing appears between them. “It would appear that the stored timeline is damaged as well. Though I can provide information, I cannot say what order-der the events occurred in.”

  “What…” Clutter turns to me. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  I step closer to the construct and lean in. “I think that’s the quest’s way of telling us that we won’t get much information from this thing. Since it’s got a bunch of errors and whatever it’s trying to show us isn’t actually showing up.”

  “Oh. That’s annoying. Fake paindne… why are you made of plastic?”

  The construct twitches. “I am a being of light and magic. Whatever this plastic is, I am not made of it.”

  “No, I’m… pretty sure you are.” Clutter looks the construct up and down. “Can’t you tell?”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “I am a being of light and magic. Whatever this pl-pl-plastic is, I am not made of it.” The construct repeats word for word, save for the glitchy speech.

  Clutter’s face twists from annoyance to confusion. “Um… I don’t know what to say now. Is the plastic just for the quest, or was it actually here in the first place?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. At all. But… we’re sure this thing is made of plastic, right? Not light and magic pretending to be plastic?”

  “One-hundred percent sure.” Pearl confirms. “It’s exactly the same stuff as the plastic from before. Maybe try touching your jewelry to it?”

  I reach up and fiddle with my armlet. “Not sure that’s a good idea. This could be a trap.”

  “Trap? For what?” Clutter asks seriously. “Did she say something that I need to hear?”

  “Not yet; just an idea I don’t like. First we should try to get as much information from this thing as possible, and then we’ll try some more dangerous things.” I clear my throat as I lock eyes with the plastic paindne. “You said you’re here to help with something that gives an error. Do you know you’re part of a quest now?”

  “That information is cl-classified.”

  Not an error, but ‘classified’. That’s about as close to a confirmation of this thing being aware of a quest as I’m going to get. And if it's aware of its own place in this quest, there’s definitely a bunch of other stuff that it can’t say. Hell, all those errors could be complete bullshit so this thing doesn't spill secrets the quest doesn’t want revealed until later.

  “Can I go now?” Clutter asks. I motion for him to go ahead, to which he nods. “Why are you in this specific room? And why was it so hard to find?”

  “This room is one of many private alcoves. The locking mechanism was designed to be-be-be accessed as a part of (ERROR: CENSORED BY QUEST).” The construct pauses as a shudder turns its speech into a jumbled mess of noises. “I was placed here specifically for those reasons.”

  I didn’t hear any reasons. “Okay. What’s your purpose for the quest in particular?”

  The construct spasms. “I am here to provide a cryptic hint into the past of this great city. In addition, I am to provi-i-ide a small reward to anyone who finds this place–and a slightly larger reward to the first group to do so. You-you-you are said first group. Would you like the reward at this mo-moment? WARNING–obtaining the reward will deactivate this unit.”

  Clutter starts to open his mouth. I hold up a hand to stop him from accepting the reward right this instant.

  “Not yet. We can still get more out of this thing.”

  He frowns. “What else can we get? It said that it’s just here to give cryptic hints–which it definitely already did. Apparently something bad happened to it that was enough to give it errors, paindne used to live here, and it wasn’t originally made of plastic. What else do we need to know?”

  Wow. He’s more determined to get rid of this thing than I thought. But there’s two more things I really want to ask before we send this thing back to where it came from.

  “Alright, a few more questions, and then we’ll take the reward. But just a few.” I assure Clutter, who huffs in acceptance. “First; do you know where we can get more of the liquid grey magic?”

  “It will be obvious when you find it, but until then, do not bother look-look-looking for it.” The construct says cryptically. “When the circumstances are right, it will be-be there.”

  I sigh and frown at the thing; it’s really not being helpful right now. “Sure, whatever. Two; if we manage to refill the catalyst, will putting it back in the tower actually do anything?”

  The construct nods. “Y-y-es.”

  After a few seconds of silence, it becomes obvious that’s all the construct’s going to say. My frown deepens as Clutter shoots me a ‘can we just be done with this’ look. I’m definitely closer to agreeing with him than I was a few seconds ago, but I’m not quite done yet.

  “Some actually helpful info would be nice.” I mutter to myself. “Three and four; why is this place so empty, and what happened to everyone here?”

  “(ERROR: CAUSE UNKNOWN).”

  Alright, we’re done here. “Pearl? Have any questions before we say goodbye to this thing?”

  Pearl shrugs. “This thing isn’t meant to actually give out information. If you two are done with it, I don’t have anything else that I can think of right now.”

  “Then we’re done.” I motion at the construct. “Give us the reward now, please.”

  It nods. “Tha-thank you for your time. I hope I was able to hel-help ease some of your burdens during this difficult time.”

  With a puff of grey magic, the plastic paindne dissolves into a mass of squirming plastic. We all watch as the strands disperse to the corners of the room, and when they hit the walls, they just… disappear. I shoot Clutter a quizzical glance that he returns, then we just stand here and wait for anything to happen. Everything here seems to be on a weird delay, so whatever the reward is, it probably won’t show up for a minute.

  “I hated that.” Clutter mutters. “We aren’t plastic people. We’re paindne–not something fake like that.”

  I raise an eyebrow and almost point out that they’re a system-uplifted species. But I guess since that happened so long ago, nobody would even bat an eye at considering them a real species. Well, Illumisia definitely would, but she’s not here to argue that right now. So I just let Clutter keep quietly ranting to himself and watch the walls.

  A flicker of magic twists at the edge of my vision. I turn to the source as a series of four deep gouges dig deep into the wall–uneven, ragged, and dripping with magic. Unease seeps up into my stomach, and a low growl seems to close in from everywhere.

  Reward Granted: A Chance to Prove Yourselves.