The Devil's Foundry

“Come on… dammit!”

So, the warehouse thing wasn’t quite as good as I’d hoped.

“Just a bit more…”

I twisted my fingers, leaning forward I tried to force the stupid gem out of its setting. The scabbard was jammed between the wall and a chunk of stone. So much for defunct equipment I could cannibalize for parts.

With a huff, I put a bit more weight into the hilt. I would have just pried the damn thing out with like, file or something, but the entire blade and scabbard was rusted straight through. If I put too much weight into it, the whole thing could snap right off.

Which, of course, meant that the one piece I needed was the only bit not corroded to hell and back.

“Fucking piece of… hah… shit—!” With a grunt, I popped the gem free. It bounced across the dirt floor of the warehouse before rolling to a stop next to a pile of unused bricks.

Well, calling them “bricks” was a bit charitable. In reality, they were crude adobe that had long since cracked. Anything of value had already been stripped from this place. The walls likely remained simply because no one wanted to collapse the ceiling.

With a sigh, I discarded the blade and made my way over to the real prize. I held it up to a beam of light coming in through a broken window. The gem was a bit smaller than I’d expected, but that worked in my favor. It would fit perfectly into the core.

“What d’ya want to do with the sword, L-lady Via?”

I glanced over at Rel, who was busy moving things out of the way. We were staying in a half-collapsed building, but that didn’t mean it had to be a dirty one. “The sword? Do whatever you want with it.” I shrugged. “I certainly don’t need it anymore.”

There’d been only one gem set in the pommel: the ruby I now popped into the small power core I’d managed to salvage. I pressed it gently into the prismatic facilitator array, before closing the access hatch on the orb. With a twist, it started to hum, growing warm in my grasp. Good, it hadn’t been damaged after all.

“And they said it couldn’t be done.”

I moved over to the ‘worktable’, which was a slab of raised stone that no one had cared enough to drag away. I’d assembled a crude metal shell from some of the smaller sheets of my alloyed titanium. The tools in my belt pouch weren’t made for big construction, but I could manage this much, at least.

The hard part was the limbs. I’d managed to salvage enough for four, but only by stripping out the servos and ‘ligaments’ in the hand sections. In the end, I was left with a lumpy oval and its four little spider legs. Its eyes were a mishmash of whatever sensors I still had, in the hopes that at least one of them would work. That only made it look even more like a spider. I hummed to myself.

“I wonder if Electra has arachnophobia?”

Was the little robot useful? Maybe not, but after recovering the parts, the urge to build had made my fingers itch until I’d finally given in. I’m sure I’d find something for the little guy to do eventually.

Of course, I thought as I slipped the core into the housing, none of this would matter if the motherboard I’d salvaged was more damaged than I thought. There was nothing I could do about that. Yet.

I nodded to myself as the little robot started to hum.

Soon, I’d be able to build all the things I could back in my home dimension. This was just the first step. A… proof of concept, if you will.

Behind me, Rel cursed, voice squeaking, as he almost dropped a wooden beam on his foot. I sighed. And also, hopefully, a slightly less bumbling helper, if the fabricator assembly I’d hooked up to its ‘front’ still worked.

There was a short series of chirps and whirrs as the machine spooled up. I waited, palms flat against the stone table. A spark, a plume of smoke spitting from the crevasse in its housing. I bit my lip.

Then its eyes lit up, more sensors than I’d expected flickering back to life. It stood.

I cackled. “It’s alive!”

“Meep!” Rel staggered into something, but I couldn’t bring myself to be upset with him as my little robot stood up on four wobbly legs.

“I always wanted to say that.” I grinned. “Computer, display readiness and functional status.”

The little robot made a clicking noise, ‘head’ bobbing up and down on its little legs. Then it let out a series of beeps and mechanical whirrs.

I sighed. “Language centers damaged. That figures.” I shook my head. “Still, at least it seems to be able to run.” I wasn’t a coder first and foremost, but my father had taught me a thing or two. I’d always had a knack for writing programs that could function even after catastrophic damage like this, call it an adaptation to my own shitty life. “How’s your fabricator, little guy?”

Another beeping whirr. It opened its mouth, revealing the feed port. Deconstructors sparked once before flickering out. I shrugged. Call it two for three. “We’ll get to that; for now, see if you can’t fix your speech centers while you help Rel,” I pointed, “out.”

I straightened up as my creation whirred again. It walked forward, and for a second, I thought it was almost going to jump off the table. Then it reached the edge, foot missing its next step, and my robot let out a single surprised beep as it started to tilt forward.

And fall.

“No!” I lunched, catching it an inch from the ground.

I breathed out a sigh of relief as I set the little guy down. It tilted back, sensors looking up at me. I rubbed my forehead. “Computer, amend instructions. Run full diagnostics and amend movement programs.”

The pseudo AI I’d put together for my doombots was adaptive, but I guess expecting it to realize that it was in a body less than a quarter of its normal size was a bit much.

I let out a laugh. “God, imagine if it just fell over and broke. Hours of work, just down the drain.” With the way my luck was going, the whole thing would have probably exploded.

I patted the little robot once as it let out a soft hum, before folding its legs up and going into standby mode. With the processor damaged and a nonstandard power core, that would take a while. As long as it wasn’t a complete wash, I’d have to be satisfied.

That was one thing done, now onto the next. “Rel.”

“Yes, Lady Via!”

I closed my eyes, debating whether I should tell him to just call me Via or not.

It probably wouldn’t help. “Come with me.” I moved to exit the warehouse. “We have things to do.”

The old port district was, if anything, even more dilapidated than it had looked last night. I could see where there used to be roads and buildings, maybe even a port authority office. But all of that had been left to rot, or else completely swept away, as was the section closest to the wall.

I could see a dip in the ground where a massive blow had carved divots into the ground. There was a gate set a little further to the west, Rel had said, which led to the new fishing docks.

But whatever interest this city had in rebuilding its shipping industry had died along with this section of the city.

“Where are we going?” Rel popped up next to me. Then his stomach growled.

I felt the same way. I hadn’t eaten in a day, preferring to get a base of operations set up first. Even in standby mode, the little robot I’d created would defend the warehouse in case of intruders. Now that my spoils were secured, it was time to look towards new conquests. Like food.

Honestly, you’d be surprised how many villains put off consolidating their own gains and then next thing you know you’re out to get a taco and you come back to find—

Well, I’m sure we’ve all been there.

“Food will be the second order of business,” I said. “First, we’ll need some money.”

Rel glanced to the side. “Um, if we’re gonna steal, why not just take the food?”

I rolled my eyes. “Why steal from a street vendor when you can cut a rich man’s purse?” That was me, a regular Robin Hood.

“With that in mind let’s—”

I stopped.

In the middle of the road in front of us stood three men. They were loitering idly against the wall of another abandoned warehouse, rusty knives and thick looking clubs displayed prominently. At my side, Rel pulled back.

I sighed. “Ah, the welcoming committee.”

The leader, a man with spiky blue hair—and what was it with fantasy settings and off-color hair anyway?—pushed himself off the wall when he heard me.

“You got that right.” He grinned, showing a missing tooth or two. Just another reminder to never take a job without dental. “Heard from my boys that you went in and squatted on our turf last night.” Behind him, his boys leaned forward menacingly.

“Do you call them that in the bedroom?”

He blinked. “Wha?”

“Do you call them your ‘boys’ in the bedroom?” I tilted my head. “Seems a bit weak, thought pretty boys like you preferred…” I made a rude gesture. “Men.”

It took him a second, before he snarled at me. “Bitch.” He spat to the side.

I smirked, raising my hands. “No! no! I’m not shaming you for your preferences.” I cast a glance at tweedle dee and tweedle dum. “It’s just pretty clear who wears the pants in your relationship.”

“Hey,” Tweedle dee said. “What’s she talking ‘bout?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Blue hair crossed his arms.

Tweedle dum scratched his head. “I think she’s sayin’ we fuck boss in the ass?”

“I said it doesn’t matter!”

But we were already off to the races. “Ooh, yeah, now that you mention it, boss is real nice looking from the back.” He gave a small grin. “I always liked short hair.”

Dum shook his head. “No, long hair’s where it’s at, gotta get something to hold onto like—”

“I swear to god if the two of you don’t shut up, I’ll make sure you never stick your tiny little things inside anyone ever again.”

Dee and Dum shared a glance. Dum raised a… rather large hand. And you know what they say about those. “Actually, Boss.”

“I. Do not. Care.”

I hid a chuckle behind my hand as Dum lowered his hand again. Blue hair continued to glower at me for a second, hand clenching around the hilt of his rapier.

“You know…” The man ran a hand through his spiky hair. I was tempted to make some comment about product, but he wouldn’t understand. “I was gonna take it easy on you, show you the ropes.” He leered at me, and I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe even teach you a thing or two.”

“I don’t think your thing has much to teach.” I checked my nails. “Whatever it is you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

Behind me, Rel let out a keening whine.

“No, no, no…” He shook his head, sneer coming back as he mimicked my earlier words. “It’s not us who’s selling anything, but you.” He waved a hand. “See, that warehouse you were using, it belongs to the Red Scars. And you’re squatting without permission.”

There was a moment of silence, before Blue elbowed Dum in the side.

“Oh, right!” Dum steeped forward, doing his best to loom menacingly. “We don’t take kindly to that ‘round here.”

“So… you’ll be—”

“No.” He blinked as I interrupted him. I sighed, placing a hand on my hip. Maybe if he’d approached me with a deal, I might have humored him for a bit longer, but no. “No, I won’t be doing whatever idiot thing that was about to leave your lips.” Because I was Empress, not some little girl lost and alone in the dark.

And Empress does not kneel.