An Automation was stationed in the kitchen as the mansion's cook.
It stood in the center of the room, a bulky mechanical figure bolted to the tiled floor, its metal arms moving nonstop. Gears turned inside its chest, pistons hissed, and its head rotated in slow, stiff circles as it worked. Every few seconds, it scooped something from one pot and dumped it into another with a wet, unpleasant sound.
When Isolde and Leonel stepped inside the kitchen, the smell hit them instantly.
It was overwhelming.
A thick mix of rot, metal, burning oil, and something sweet yet sour clung to the air. Isolde instinctively held her breath, while Leonel gagged and covered his mouth.
"Ugh—!" Leonel staggered forward a step before stopping. "What is that smell?!"
