Heartwell: Incandescence

Chapter 5: Quality, Failsafe Plans

Maybe you just need time to unwind, to forget about everything.

Artyom's old advice repeated in her head like a broken record. She tried drowning it out with Jazz, harder jazz, then metal with the added saxophone solos blasting on her gramophone, but his voice and the traumatizing encounter with the dead kept reminding her of one little thing: Inner Mechanix is utterly doomed if she didn't do squat about it, but so will her mental state.

That's the thing. Something must be done, but all her resources are burnt out. The intricate parts used to weave together the wings, the motor, the glide mechanism, and the dove A.I was all out of stock, and the parts assembly factory was closed for further inspection since sights of "frontier-like" anomalies were occurring to the worker machines - automatons coming alive without them having a battery and attacking their makers - that sort of normal problem.

And there was no telling as to how long the factory would be closed. Her hands, now, were tied. One voice wanted her to rest for once. The other, well...

"Come on, Bridgid, you gotta have determination! Get at em, fixer!"

Caddius's optimism now seemed insulting-

"SCUSE ME, MISS!"

"Oh? H-HEY!"

Bridgid threw herself to the curb when a littling with clothes splattered with rainbow paint and glitter came barreling through the festive streets with a morbidly gigantic swine too massive to be classified as a hog, carrying sodas tied together to ropes fastened to its saddle.

"This is the TENTH TIME THIS YEAR, BILLY!" She screamed and threw her fist, but he was already long gone, leaving her in the dust. The many other citizens were little different, sprinting and riding through the city down to an epicenter - a blazing light at the end of town she could see from her neighborhood elevated quite a bit above the rest of the city.

She narrowed her eyes toward the bright structure.

It was the 15th of April. The king's celebrating the founding of the kingdom at the palace, the place one was ever allowed to set foot in throughout the rest of the year. But today was nice, because King Thorn was nice.

Or not. She didn't care about politics. She just needed to cope. She shoved out the voice of Caddius, something that brought a surge of guilt that rose from her.

Sorry, Cad. She lowered her head, trudging lazily down the curb.

But I think Artyom's right with this one. Just for a day. I promise. In the meantime just... please stay in the grave?

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Artyom said he would be there. Perhaps with Madison or another one of his patients he convinced to get out a little as he secretly recorded their every move and reaction to a "unique environment".

She wasn't gonna be another one of Artyom's pet projects, but she would be willing to let it slide just for tonight. Being alone at a festival - it just felt slightly depressing.

She clenched her hands together, locking her fingers on top of the other as she gazed at the marble palace gates, beyond that lying "Avalon", as some Littlings would call it. The nature was so lively and green, the fireworks erupted against the night like collapsing stars, and everything seemed to store enough hyperactivity, sugar, and bombast to last this kingdom for a year.

But it felt wrong being there.

Oh, no not again...

The guilt slammed her like a sledgehammer. She was going against her nature.