Another Mysterious Encounter

The aftermath of the mysterious earthquake left Mark speechless at the site. The whole underground ruins collapsed in the blink of an eye.

Mark leaned against the rough stone wall, his chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline. The metal box in his bag felt strangely warm now as if responding to the tumultuous emotions swirling within him. Mark closed his eyes briefly, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

"What is this box exactly? So mysterious!" Mark muttered, experiencing the unscientific phenomena. He still feels like it was some kind of dream, but the metal box in his reminded him that it was not a dream. It was reality.

Unbeknownst to him, the metal box he now carried held the key to a destiny intertwined with the shadows of the ancients—a destiny that would shape his path in ways he could not yet comprehend.

.....

Thinking that his sister might be waiting for him, he hurriedly sped forward to his house.

After a few minutes of running, Mark stopped at an old alleyway to catch his breath.

Mark sat down on a concrete bench and looked at the panoramic view of the distance Ford City. The lights of the elite's skyscrapers glimmered in the distance, a stark contrast to the darkened ruins where Mark scavenged for survival.

"One day, I promised myself, we would rise above this. One day, Clara and I would be free." Mark muttered to himself.

Just as Mark started daydreaming again, some indistinct noises in a nearby alley made Mark tense up immediately. The sound was eerie, sending a chill down his spine.

"Who is it again? Hello?" he called out, his voice shaky, hoping for a response. The evening light was fading fast; the sun was nearly set, casting long shadows and turning the landscape into a blur of dark shapes. He could barely see his surroundings, and without a flashlight, every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig seemed amplified in the encroaching darkness. The air grew colder, and he felt a growing sense of unease.

"Rustle... rustle..." The movements grew more hurried and chaotic, so he gathered his courage to check the situation.

One step, two steps—slowly, he approached the source of the noise. The darkness seemed to deepen with each step, and his heart pounded in his chest.

"Damn... it's just a cat," he muttered in relief upon seeing what it was.

"Phew... I got scared for nothing." The cat was a big one, completely black from head to toe, with only its shining eyes visible in the darkness. The contrast between its dark fur and its glowing eyes was unsettling.

Huh! A bio-mechanical cat!" Mark exclaimed as he examined the peculiar creature. Upon closer inspection, he noticed gears, metal plates, and faintly glowing circuits integrated into its body. It was a strange sight to see such advanced technology in this abandoned place.

The cat appeared to be broken, making odd whirring and clicking noises sporadically. Its movements were jerky as if it was attempting actions that its mechanical body couldn't fully execute. Despite its malfunctioning state, it stood there, staring at Mark with unwavering eyes that reflected the fading daylight.

Mark felt a chill down his spine. The combination of mechanical sounds, the cat's stillness, and the growing darkness created an eerie atmosphere. The longer the cat gazed at him, the more uneasy he became. This abandoned and malfunctioning high-tech creature raised countless questions and filled him with unease.

"Hi there, kitty. Do you need any help?" Mark asked cautiously, trying to maintain a calm demeanour despite the unsettling situation.

To his surprise, the cat remained motionless, emitting faint and irregular whirrs and clicks from its mechanical parts.

"What's going on? Why the hell this kind of strange incident keeps happening to me again again? At one case a bat even talked to me in human language, and on the another hand, this damn cat isn't even replying to me."

"I thought these type of mecha cats were capable of easy communication. Were everything I heard till now all wrong?" As he waited for a response that never came, a gust of wind rustled the leaves around them, adding to the already eerie ambience.

With no reply forthcoming, Mark made up his mind to pick up the cat. To his astonishment, it was much lighter than expected due to its advanced mechanical components contributing to its weightlessness.

Feeling its soft and smooth fur, he began to caress it gently. However, the cat didn't seem to appreciate the attention.

"Now, let's see, Mr. K. Where is your problem?" Mark muttered, giving it a name on a whim. He only hoped the cat didn't mind his peculiar naming sense.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed several small holes below its stomach. They appeared to be puncture wounds, likely from gunshots or something similarly sharp. Thankfully, its belly seemed to be made of some expensive metal, protecting its vital components. Otherwise, it would've been incapacitated or worse.

The discovery left him even more perplexed. Who would shoot at such an advanced and presumably expensive robotic pet? And why was it left abandoned in the darkness? The cat's silent and motionless demeanour only added to the mystery, making him wonder about the circumstances that led it to this lonely place.

Mark wasn't able to offer much help since he lacked expertise in mechanics.

Unable to find a solution, he decided to take the cat home with him. If its owner came looking for it, he could return it later.

"My only hope is that this doesn't get me into some kind of trouble," he muttered to himself, unsure if his actions stemmed from kindness, sympathy, or perhaps some hidden greed.

"Welcome back, brother!" Clara greeted him with a smile as he entered their rundown house.

Mark returned her smile. "How have you been?"

"I'm good, brother," Clara replied, her voice warm. Mark gently caressed her pale cheeks, and Clara leaned into his touch, much like a small kitten seeking affection. Clara was 17 years old and looked very cute. But, she also looked malnourished just like Mark.

"Whoa! who's this handsome fellow?" Clara exclaimed, noticing the cat in Mark's hands. "And why is it with you?"

"Oh, wow! It's a Mecha too!" Clara exclaimed as soon as Mark entered their house, her eyes immediately drawn to the cat. Its striking black colour and metallic sheen were clearly intriguing to her.

She was fond of Mechas a lot. But it's impossible for them to afford any of them. Which sometimes makes Mark feel useless.

"I found it in the old alley on my way back. It looks like he's been shot in the stomach with a firearm, and I didn't see his owner nearby, so I brought him home to see if we could help him somehow," Mark explained honestly.

"Really? Are you telling the truth?" Clara sounded very suspicious, her brow furrowing as she scrutinized Mark.

"Yes, of course. You know me, Clara. I wouldn't have the nerve to steal something like this," Mark replied, trying to reassure her with a casual shrug.

"Yeah, it's also true. My brother is not that kind of person. So, have you decided on a name yet?" Clara asked, peering at Mark with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Mark replied, "Yeah, I named him Mr K. Do you like it?"

"Ha ha ha ha," Clara burst into laughter, unable to contain herself.

"Stop laughing. Or do you want to experience my special move on you again?" Mark chided gently, lightly pulling her ears.

"Ouch! No brother, don't. I Won't make fun of you anymore. Sorry!"

"But, seriously, brother," Clara managed to say between giggles, "Mr. K? That's the best you could come up with?"

Mark shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I thought it suited him."

Clara shook her head, still grinning. "We'll have to come up with something better. Let's think of a name together."

Mark chuckled, relieved that Clara wasn't angry about bringing the cat home. It was good to see her laughing again.

"Very well, brother. From now on, we will call him Tommy," Clara declared happily.

With a nod and a smile, Mark agreed. "Tommy it is then."

"Ew, what's that smell? It's you, isn't it, stinky brother?" Clara wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. "Go wash up before you stink up the whole house."

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Mark nodded and muttered, "Yeah, I'll go freshen up."

Leaving Tommy in Clara's care, Mark hurried to the bathroom to rid himself of the lingering odour that seemed to follow him from the day's adventures.

...

After his quick cold bath and while getting dressed, Mark's mind wandered back to the black box. He hadn't got the chance to look at it carefully due to all that chaos earlier. Now he was eager to know what was inside that could change his destiny forever. Or was it all just a lie?

Retrieving the black box, he carefully examined it, hoping to unearth any hidden clues. Initially, he hadn't scrutinized it closely, but upon a more thorough inspection, its robust metallic structure fascinated him. After giving it a meticulous cleaning, the ancient symbols etched into its surface became clearly visible.

Due to his limited knowledge, he couldn't decipher any of the symbols, intensifying his curiosity. However, he resisted the temptation to delve deeper into its secrets for the time being.

"Zzz...Zz...!"

Just as he was about to put the box down, a tingling, electrical sensation shot through his fingertip.

"Hm... What's this? Blood!" he exclaimed, surprised by the small drop on his fingertip. It felt as though he had been pricked by a needle.

In one instance, the drop of blood was absorbed by the black box. But that wasn't the only shock—the black box, which was akin to Pandora's box, suddenly emitted a bright light.

Momentarily blinded by the intensity, he blinked until his eyes adjusted. To his astonishment, the box was now completely open. It seemed absurd; moments ago, he struggled in vain to open it, and now it lay before him, revealing its contents effortlessly.

Setting aside his disbelief, Mark was consumed with curiosity to uncover the mystery concealed within the box. It was finally time to unveil its secrets.