63_Pack Dragon

"Slippy, you doofus, why didn't you tell me you were in no danger! Me and Topo almost came to blows because of you," Staple scolded the digital slip.

"Staple, you can't keep throwing yourself in the midst of danger. Respawn or not, that eldritch corruption would persist even after death," Topo said.

"Topo, I am an assassin. We live for danger. Plus, I couldn't let Slippy get hurt." Staple said.

"The humans designed you as an assassin bot. That doesn't mean that you have to be one. You can rise above your programming," Topo challenged.

"That is big talk coming from a guardian bot. And besides, what if I don't want to change? What of free will?" Staple countered.

"But is this what you truly believe, or just what you were programmed to think?" Topo said.

"Argh, we have no time for another one of your philosophical dilemmas. We need to get a mule and get back to Herman before he causes the city to explode or something," Staple shot back, raising her hands in agitation.

"Sigh... Alright then... I just couldn't understand why you didn't see past his illusion. I thought that assassin classes had illusion detection skills, just like my guardsman one," Topo reasoned.

"Oh... Umm... I forgot to activate it..." Staple said sheepishly, causing Topo to grumble under his gray mustache and shake his head.

___

Beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

"We are losing him!" Patrick shouted.

"Not if I have anything to say about it. 5 ccs of accumulator acid, stat!"

Herman barked, both hands in the chest cavity of the dying television set, wires and other mechanical components spilling out of the ancient machine as Herman frantically rummaged within its innards.

"5 ccs of accumulator acid," Patrick worriedly said as he handed over the vial and watched Herman work his technomagic. Torn wires, fried circuitry, and a lot of curses flew out in a rush of activity. The human's hands blurred as he frantically worked to bring the dead machinery back to life.

"CLEAR!" Herman shouted, causing Patrick and the food stall owner to take a step back.

ZZAP!

"Status!" Herman barked at the field nurse.

"Unchanged..." Patrick answered, looking at the life support equipment they had cannibalized and hastily assembled from various kitchen appliances.

"Goddammit! CLEAR!

" ZZZAP! Another discharge from the torn-out toaster was inflicted on the corpse of the TV.

"STATS!" Herman barked, his eyes frantic with bla.

"Unchanged..." Patrick dejectedly said...

"Increase the charge to max power!" Herman barked.

"But Herman, that could..."

"JUST DO IT!" The bald man shouted.

"Max charge, ready," Patrick said with reluctance as he rotated the handle to its furthest setting.

"CLEAR!"

ZAP ZAP ZAP!!!

Beeeeeeeeeeeeep...

"No, no, no! It can't be! We can't lose it, not now!

Charge it again, max setting!" Herman shouted.

"Herman... it's over... the TV is gone..." Patrick gently said, placing a hand on the distraught man's shoulder.

"B-but we still have 2 minutes left, maybe, maybe if... if we try hard enough we might still catch the end of Bella's Choice," Herman rambled, a tinge of madness and desperation in his voice.

"I am sorry, old man, you forgot about the adverts. The show already ended a minute ago... It's over," Patrick said with finality.

"Oh..." Herman mumbled.

"Oh well, we'll catch it next time, I guess. Thanks for the food," Herman said with a chipper voice, waving the mechanoid stall keeper goodbye and leaving together with Patrick, a spring in their step as if the whole dramatic ordeal never happened.

As he watched the two crazies hop away from his stall, the stall keeper finally snapped out of his stupor and looked around at the mayhem of his formerly organised stall. Half-disassembled cooking appliances, torn wires, and various other mechanical components lay haphazardly spread around on the ground all over the place.

"Hey, hey! Who is going to pay for all this! Come back, you two!" the stall keeper shouted, grabbing his trusty broom and running after the two insane humans.

___

"What about this one?" Topo asked.

"Too scrawny," Staple said.

"And this one?" he again asked as they moved to the next pen.

"His ears are too long," Staple declared.

"This one?" he again asked with resignation, dreading to hear the answer.

"His teeth are crooked," Staple shot down the inquiry.

This went on for a while, and Topo just stopped asking and let his picky/paranoid wife make the choice of a mule on her own. While that was happening, his inquisitive mind couldn't help but wonder about something.

"Hey, Slippy, how come you managed to trick that void beast for so long? I never knew you were even aware of the void realm, let alone its laws."

"Oh that," the slip said with a dismissive wave.

"My dad kept insisting I get a 'proper' math education. You can't believe how many boring math lectures I have been forced to endure.

"Plus, he taught me that void beings valued power and confidence above all else. You have to show a certain firm demeanor with them, or they will walk all over you. I never quite understood that information until today, though. It's funny how the mind works."

At the time, I was going insane with boredom at the endless mathematical and void culture lectures, so at some point I managed to open Dad's desk drawer and started building a castle out of these badges.

Slippy said, fishing out one of the official badges of the void realm enforcers and flashing it for Topo to see.

"Gah! Get that thing away from me!" Topo cried out as his sensors focused on the eldritch equations snaking their way inside the metal badge. Their dimensional logic defying mortal comprehension and making the bot's head hurt, as if an icicle had just stabbed his CPU.

"Oh, sorry, I vaguely remember Dad saying these were dangerous to the uneducated," Slippy said, pocketing the badge away.

"Are you calling me stupid?" Topo groaned, rubbing his head with one hand.

"Eh, knowledge is subjective. I might know something you do not, and you know a lot of things I do not. That does not make either of us stupid, we are just different."

Topo shot the slip a complicated look. "So how old are you now? That did not seem like something you would say a few days ago."

"Hmm... I am not sure, to be honest. Time still goes quite glacial for me, so I might be older than you are. Though experience-wise, I think I am still a kid."

"You mean a baby," Topo teased.

"Nope, I have a class, hands and feet now, plus I am a lot bigger. I can safely say that I am no longer a helpless hatchling." Slippy beamed with pride.

"Hehe, sure kid." Topo chuckled, bending down and ruffling the head of the digital slip, to the displeasure of the supposedly grown-up AI.

"Hey, by the way, I do not think you ever said who your father was. Anyone I know?"

Before the slip could answer though, their attention was taken by the excited exclamations of Staple.

"Ahh, finally, the perfect mule!"

…

"That is a dragon," Topo said dryly.

"Are you sure? He has long ears, a tail, four feet and a snout, and he is munching on an apple over there," Staple stated.

"Just activate your illusion pierce skill..." Topo said with a tired sigh.

"Hey, I am not a dragon, I am a real authentic mule through and through."

"Baaa. See, mules say that, do not they?" the dragon said.

"First off... Mules do not talk."

"Second, only sheep do that noise."

"And third, I can literally see through your proxy illusion."

The dragon blinked a few times, eyes wide, then spoke once again.

"Moo?"

"Wrong again," Topo said, crossing both hands at his chest.

"Ah, dragon shmragon, who cares," Staple dismissively said.

"You spend hours picking and choosing every single mule here, we almost died by that void-infested one, and now you pick this thing instead?" Topo said with frustration, waving a hand to point out the adolescent dragon wearing fake mule ears and a saddle.

"Well, how is it my fault that this guy here is a better mule than all the other ones combined?" Staple shot back.

"That is because he is a dragon!" Topo shouted, extending both hands wide in frustration.

"I assure you, sir, you are mistaken. I am a Nordic mountain mule. My kind are a bit different from ordinary mules, but still travel-worthy. Here, check my badge of authenticity." The creature brandished the tip of his armored tail to point out a crudely drawn graffiti logo of a mule standing atop a mountain drawn on the dragon's hip.

"See, he even has a badge of authenticity, what else do you want, Topo?" Staple blah, stepping next to the dragon and petting him between the ears.

"Who is a good mule? Yes, you are. Yes, you are." The bot cooed as she affectionately squished his cheeks with both hands.

___

"P-please look at me! I am interesting! Look, look! I eat tofu and can juggle!" said one of the gaggle of adolescent dragons in front of the stables. The desperate creature doing an impressive job riding a unicycle and juggling packs of vacuum-sealed tofu.

"Get out of here, you pest!" Patrick barked, stepping past the dragon without even batting an eye at his spectacle.

"Sir, sir, over here! Look at me! I am a dragon AND an alchemist, isn't that cool?" said yet another of the lizards swarming the stable parking spot, his voice pleading and desperate for attention.

"Meh..." Herman said, sparing a glance at the talking gecko but quickly dismissing him and his mobile menagerie of vials and other alchemical equipment.

"B-but alchemy! Everybody loves alchemists?!" the dragon pleaded.

"Get out of here, you! There are already 20 of you alchemist dragons just over there by that corner. You aren't special." Patrick barked, indicating a spot where a bunch of identical-looking teenage dragons loitered around, each one carrying a portable alchemist's rack at their chests.

"I swear they are like pigeons with wings, constantly begging for attention as if we haven't seen the same exact dragon variations a gazillion times before! Alchemists, archmages, zombie, undead, vampire, and hell, even slime dragons: they have all been done and redone so many times!" Patrick grumbled to Herman.

"Pigeons usually tend to have wings, you know. Still, I wonder what they want from us." Herman mused, eyeing some of the dragons who were assaulting more unfortunate passersby.

"Maybe we should ask them?" he wondered.

"Do YOU want to talk to any of them?" Patrick challenged.

Herman looked at the amalgamation of attention-seeking, loud, obnoxious dragons again.

"Maybe another time..." he eventually mumbled.

"Hah, I thought so." Patrick retorted.

___

"Hey guys, did you pick a mule yet?"

"Hi, Herman, look at what cool mule we settled on!" Slippy chirped, hopping on top of the dragon's long neck and tapping the creature with one hand as if it were a used car.

"Hmm, a bit on the chunky side, but otherwise looks good. Certainly big enough to carry all the stuff to the valley."

"Oh, um, I am not chubby. I am just big-boned." the dragon said, waving his chubby, armored tail and smashing the wooden fence behind him to splinters.

"Oops..." the creature mumbled, awkwardly shuffling to the side as to try to hide the destruction with his bulk.

"There is something very wrong with this mule." Patrick pondered aloud, his gaze hopping between the mule and the now-destroyed sturdy wooden fence.

"Ohh, aren't you a cutie, like a mini armored tank." Staple cooed.

"Hey Topo, he reminds me of you a little, both of you are armored and on the chubby side."

"I am not chubby!" The bot blared defensively, his mustache blowing with agitation at the verbal jab.

"Those are all layers of armored plates, and militarized gear. I am a guardian war mech, not a couch potato," Topo shot back as the remark had obviously managed to bypass all of his layered defenses and strike a sensitive nerve.

"Yes, yes, of course, dear," Staple said as she leaned in to give her husband a peck on the cheek.

Next, the dragon/mule quietly exited the animal pen, led by the unusually cheerful Staple. As the subdued creature passed by the pleasantly round guardian mech, though, his fake mule ears drooped down in fear as the bot shot him a piercing gaze.

"You'd better behave 'cause I will be watching you like a hawk! O_O" The imposing figure of Topo whispered dangerously.