Parallax

Seasonal Affinity: None?



"The Fatebreaker"

The center of the lake bubbles and darkens as the derelict rises. Black water streams down the body of an ancient android long lost and forgotten, clouded with rust and murk. His mouth opens with a monstrous, grinding shriek as the gears and gyros of his jaw struggle to function properly, and more water pours out.

His optic-input sensors have long since cracked beyond use, and his microphone audio-input sensors are severely deteriorated, filling his head with nothing but a perpetual whine and the crackle of distorted static. Long whip-like feelers uncoil from around his head to reach out and explore his environment, thrashing with the expectancy of an enemy collision at any moment.

None comes. Not for minutes, not for hours.

The war he expects has been over for hundreds of years.



Gradually, the feelers begin to search out his environment in a more cautious, curious manner. Limbs creak and flake with heavy rust, as he clumsily paws his way forward, eventually finding his way out of the lake. He crouches in the sun, letting the wind dry circuits and metal that have been submerged for a time that has been both forever and only the blink of an eye. Massive holes from corrosion and rust litter his body, but the internals still function... for the most part.

Once dry, he begins to wander. Slowly at first, in circles that gradually expand in diameter. In this way, he carves out a 'territory,' but still his programming keeps him tied to the location of the battleground, within a few miles.

It's only a matter of time before he runs across his first life form.

A tendril brushes over something that flinches away. Immediately, all the derelict's systems are on high alert. Without optic-input sensors it's impossible to immediately tell whether this entity is an enemy or ally. The only way to tell is to wait. The tendrils reach forward slowly, experimentally. A nose reaches forward to scent him, tapping him accidentally on his own 'nose,' and his tendrils find the sides of a soft, warm creature, breathing.

The entity is nonaggressive, and as such marked ally.

More entities appear. The derelict has no way to truly tell them apart, but so long as they are nonaggressive each time they cross his path, they too are marked as ally. Aggressive entities are marked as enemies and destroyed.

After all, to the derelict, the war never ended, merely slowed.



Seasons pass, and while the derelict is unaware of it, some of the entities within his territory are pacifist travelers seeking sanctuary. They are frightened of him, and mostly try to stay undetected and out of the way of his looping patrols, camping around the lake for a water supply. Pursuers follow after the travelers, and violent in their will to destroy, they attack the derelict...

A few pieces are missing from him after, but not much is left of the pursuers.

The peaceful travelers are in awe. Slowly, a village is formed around the lake, which grows into a town. Tales of a giant protector, or a rusty metal monster depending upon the teller's perspective, spread throughout the land. The derelict is held in reverence, and the town is unchallenged by outsiders.

He walks the lands to this day, tendrils seeking, and rare are the days when he plods down the very streets of the town itself, brushing through the stalls in the marketplace, examining the furnishings of the town temple.

It is considered an honor and a blessing to be touched by the derelict in his passage, and perhaps it gives him a sense of peace, to always find so many allies nearby in his long, lonesome war...