Chapter 2 : Conclusion! a Roomba!

(POV: The Unnamed Professor)

Okay. Okay okay, hold on!

Deep breaths—if I had lungs.

Let's do a recap:

I, Professor Something (because no one bothered to say my name before I exploded), am now a potion.

Not just any potion.

A mana potion.

The slushy, blue-glowy kind with no arms, legs, or dignity.

Is this karma?

Was it because I kidnapped that chef for his recipes?! No, no... I did return him to his family afterwards...

Maybe the universe just really hates scientists?

...

No time for existential dread. Let's figure out what I can do.

Okay. I've got 360-degree vision. That's cool. Kinda.

Until you realize it means seeing everything—like the giant, murderous rats skittering toward me from every angle, like it's buffet night at the Potion Diner.

THUD.

Something just fell. Loose rock? Or a skull? Either way—less than comforting.

And me? I'm just here, jiggling helplessly in a half-broken leather pouch like some discount anime convention prop.

Tap... tap... SCRITCH.

They're getting closer.

...Well. Nothing like a death sentence to spark some creativity!

If I'm a mana potion, maybe I can do... mana potion things? Like… leak dramatically? Explode violently?

Wait.

What are my stats?

System? Menu? Interface? Status screen? Press Escape?? Abracadabra by Lady Gaga???

...

Oh no.

What if I don't even have a UI?

What if I'm not rare?!

What if I'm a Common-grade consumable with no resale value?!

This is worse than death.

SCREEEEE—

A rat lunges.

ROLL!!

Yes! I can roll! Kind of! Barely! But it's progress!

I tumble forward just in time for rodent fangs to snap down on empty air.

I may be a bottle, but I'm not glass-half-empty yet, dammit.

...Why are they even attacking me?!

I'm an inanimate object!!

Wait.

Can they sense I'm alive? Is that it?

Maybe I'm giving off weird vibes like a tiny, juicy soul snack?

Why aren't they eating that corpse instead?

Don't rats like flesh?

...

Time passed, and I found a nice dark corner to hide in.

But during that time, I felt something... changing.

More control. More awareness.

And the mana—I could feel it flowing.

I mean, yeah, I am basically just a bottle of blue mana juice, but something felt off.

Like I was absorbing it from the environment—slowly, steadily.

Perhaps that's why I have 360-vision.

It's almost like that one ninja clan from that anime about a hyperactive blond kid who won't let his first kiss leave the village.

But whatever the case...

I think I could build something.

A robot. A vessel. Something to move.

The only problem is:

Where do I get parts? And how the hell do I craft as a bottle?

SCRAPE!

My instincts flared—I turned around out of habit. Which is dumb, because, y'know, 360 vision.

And then I saw it.

Hope.

No. Even better.

A Roomba?!

My heart—do I still have one?—filled with joy.

Then confusion.

Why the fck is there a Roomba here?!

I rolled closer. Examined it.

Not exactly a Roomba.

More like... a disc-shaped machine with stubby legs. Primitive. Steampunk-ish. Definitely not powered by steam though—no exhaust, no hissing.

It was out of power.

I hesitated.

Was it safe to leave my vial?

Then I noticed it.

There—on the back. Potion slots. Mana potion slots!

One empty.

One cracked and leaking.

This was it.

I inched closer, tipped myself upward. Slowly pushed my liquid body toward the opening...

POP!

Cap off.

Showtime.

I poured myself into the slot, my mana filling the chamber.

And then—YES.

It felt amazing.

A bit clunky. A little old-fashioned. But definitely a robot!

Instead of circuits, it used runes. Intricate, elegant—programmable.

...

Time passed as I traced the rune paths and reverse-engineered the system.

Turns out this thing's original job was… janitorial?

Also... rodent extermination.

Perfect.

Just you wait, Remy. Stuart. Jerry. I'm coming for you.

I spread myself along the control grooves and powered the thing up.

FWHUMP.

A magical pulse ran through the machine. It twitched.

Systems online. Damage—minimal. Initiating override.

Success.

Conclusion: I got my first fcking robot.

I zoomed around the corridor at full speed, triumphant—

WHAM!

—and crashed into something.

Ow.

What the hell?

Oh.

The corpse.

Right. I never examined it before. Too busy not dying.

It was… weird.

Mummified, kind of. But his gear looked new.

No rot. No decay. Just a dry husk in fresh armor.

SCREECH!

Ah.

They're back.

The Rat Squad.

Let's go, boys.

I activated Rodent-Hunter Mode.

Two metallic clubs extended from my sides.

I looked like a crab.

I was okay with this.

SCRATCH!

A rat lunged. I spun and—

WHACK!

Sent it flying.

Come on, you overgrown furballs!

CRASH! THUD! SMACK!

I was a cleaning machine of pure vengeance. One by one, they fled, squeaking in terror.

Yeah! That's right!

Ratatouille? More like Ran-away-from-me!

...

Okay, yeah. That was terrible.

I'm sorry.

But as I celebrated, a new sound echoed down the corridor.

SCRAPE.

What was that?

SLASH!

Pain—real pain—seared through me as one of my limbs was torn clean off.

Even with 360-vision, I hadn't seen it coming.

And then I heard it.

A giggle.

High-pitched. Bone-chilling.

I scanned the darkness—

And then I saw it.

White skin. Red markings. Purple eyes. A mouth too wide.

Conclusion: It's a white goblin.