Deceit

Walking across the rusted catwalks, Ba-Zi-Ha keeps her breathing controlled as the tension tightens in her chest. Each step is a test of patience and skill—she must avoid the zombie robots, which continue moving in their predictable cycle, while also staying alert to the metallic shrieks of the Corroder Beetles. 

The suffocating heat inside the factory seems to intensify with every corridor she crosses, as if the place itself is alive, conspiring to trap her within. 

Ba-Zi-Ha's mind is focused on one thing: the robot. It is the bridge connecting her to what remains of her humanity—a partner, a friend. 

As she approaches the path she left behind, she begins to wonder if she will have to face enemies even more dangerous than before. 

The perimeter could have changed over time, and the distraction she caused earlier might have triggered security protocols she hadn't even suspected. 

She moves through a narrow corridor, electric canisters flickering on the walls like watchful eyes. At every corner, she sneaks forward, pausing to listen for any creak or hum that might signal an approaching threat. 

At one point, she hears the sound of mechanical legs scraping against metal—Corroder Beetles. Ba-Zi-Ha holds her breath and takes cover behind several discarded robot carcasses, watching as a small group of beetles scurries away, dragging components that were once useful circuits. 

When she is certain they are gone, she resumes her path, her heart pounding like a drum. 

Finally, she reaches a wide compartment, half-hidden in the shadows. Somewhere deep inside, she is certain that if she keeps going, she will find her robot. 

The door, reinforced and covered in rust, seems impenetrable at first glance. With keen eyes, Ba-Zi-Ha spots a rudimentary access panel nearby. She runs her finger over the warped surface, wiping away dust to reveal faded symbols. 

She tries a combination of codes—old fragments of knowledge supposedly passed down by her people. Time passes, and then a sharp noise signals that the gears have engaged. 

The door slides open, groaning as if protesting against being unlocked. Inside, a near-solid darkness dominates the space. Touching the wall near the entrance, Ba-Zi-Ha finds the emergency switch and flips it. 

A faint glow flickers across the floor, revealing shelves stacked with loose parts and abandoned tools. The air is stale, heavy with the scent of rancid oil. 

In one corner, buried under a heap of metal plating, lies a robot… Perhaps it is Taratha Thag. Its rusted joints catch the dim light, and its body appears dormant in the shadows. Ba-Zi-Ha steps carefully toward it, removing some of the pieces that cover it. 

She brushes her hand over its metal frame, hoping to feel a sign of life. In response, faint sparks dance through its circuits, revealing that some energy still lingers within its core. 

"Sorry for the delay," she whispers, her voice thick with restrained emotion. 

"I really need you right now." 

As she works to reactivate the robot's functions, Ba-Zi-Ha senses something in the air. Her instincts are rarely wrong—something else is watching from within the room. Cold sweat trickles down her neck, and adrenaline surges back into her veins. 

There is no time for hesitation. With steady hands, she connects wires and realigns energy routes. Little by little, the lights forming the robot's "eyes" flicker on, and it exhales a soft electronic whistle, as if waking from a turbulent dream. 

Ba-Zi-Ha doesn't smile, but she feels a part of her anguish lift as the presence of her old friend returns. 

Then, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoes once more—this time behind her—casting an unsettling shadow on the wall. 

A Corroder Beetle creeps closer. Wasting no time, Ba-Zi-Ha signals to the robot, and both prepare for what may be the first of many battles to come. 

But as the emergency lights flare brighter, illuminating the room more clearly, she suddenly realizes the truth—this robot is not, and never was, her friend Taratha Thag. 

Mistake – Part 2: The Confrontation

Ba-Zi-Ha barely has time to process her discovery when the robot before her fully awakens. The lights in its head glow intensely, and a deep mechanical hum vibrates in its metal chest.

She steps back, her heart pounding against her ribs. What? How could she have made such a basic mistake? The dark environment, the magnetized pieces covering parts of the robot's face… all of it must have tricked her perception.

"Great. Congratulations, Ba-Zi-Ha. You just demonstrated an impressive amount of confidence in your own nearsightedness."

The robot doesn't respond. It simply moves, in a robotic and deliberate manner, its eyes glowing with an intense light.

Instincts scream in her mind. This is not Taratha Thag.

She leaps backward just as the robot's metallic arm cuts through the air where she had been standing. The force of the blow sends dust flying. Without hesitation, Ba-Zi-Ha draws her makeshift blade—a sharpened scrap of metal she always carries—and assumes a defensive stance.

"So, that's how it's gonna be? No 'hello,' no 'sorry for the scare'? I guess manners weren't part of your programming, huh?"

The robot lunges. It doesn't need words. Its movement is direct, methodical, efficient. A sweeping attack nearly catches Ba-Zi-Ha, but she throws herself to the side, sliding across the rusty floor, feeling the dust mix with sweat.

She gets up quickly, her chest rising and falling. She is at a disadvantage. This robot is not just a heap of rusted parts—it was built for combat.

But why? Who sent it?

It charges again, and this time, she isn't fast enough to fully dodge. The robot's metal arm strikes her shoulder and sends her crashing into a pile of debris. Pain spreads, but Ba-Zi-Ha has no time for self-pity. The robot is already moving again, ready to continue the assault.

She rolls to the side, barely escaping being crushed, and then spots an opening—the machine's knees seem fragile.

Without hesitation, she spins on the ground and slashes with her blade. The metal scrapes against the enemy's frame but doesn't break through. However, it makes the robot hesitate for a fraction of a second—just enough time for Ba-Zi-Ha to get up and run.

She isn't running away. She's searching for an advantage.

But the robot is fast. Too fast.

Before she can reach an exit, a powerful impact strikes her back. The world spins, and before she realizes it, she is being dragged.

The wind whips against her face as the machine carries her at an absurd speed. The ruined cityscape rushes past her, crumbling buildings and streets reclaimed by time blurring together. She struggles to break free, kicking and striking, but the robot's firm grip won't let her go.

The dead city stretches in all directions. Who could be behind this? Who had set this trap?

After what feels like endless minutes, the robot finally stops. It releases her with a precise motion, as if following a clear directive. Ba-Zi-Ha crashes onto the rough ground, feeling the impact reverberate through her bones.

She struggles to her feet, her gaze locked on the machine.

"So, you took me on a little trip, and now you're just gonna leave me here? Should I say 'thank you'?"

The robot doesn't respond. It simply turns away and vanishes into the darkness.

Ba-Zi-Ha takes a deep breath, ignoring the ache in her body. Whoever or whatever orchestrated this… it doesn't matter.

She has to go back.

Taratha Thag is still waiting for her.