Poggles was faster and more agile than the heavy human hands of the workers could catch. He used his small size to slip between pipes and jump over crates, dodging his pursuers skillfully. But his intelligent processor realized they were combing the area for him, so he had to hide for a while until things calmed down.
His metal feet led him, without conscious awareness of direction, through narrow ventilation shafts, until he suddenly found himself looking down from a high vent into a familiar hall. It was the hall that had witnessed the earlier fight between Elyra and Captain Jackson, now suspiciously empty and quiet.
Poggles jumped down, landing lightly on the cold floor.
Given his extreme intelligence and curiosity that exceeded his size, he was immediately drawn to the sight of those glass canisters lined up on the shelves. They glowed in the dark with a mesmerizing blue, pulsing and rippling as if containing a life of their own, not just a chemical liquid.
Poggles did a quick scan of the place, then approached one of the shelves.
'These things... are the center of everything here,' Poggles analyzed. 'Maybe this is the secret product this bleak factory is covering up.'
He reached out with his small copper hands and lifted one of the canisters with difficulty due to its relative weight. He examined the copper lid, and with a precise movement of his fingers that transformed into small screwdrivers, he opened the canister.
Hssss...
Light steam rose. Poggles brought his face close and sniffed the emitted scent.
It was a strange smell, too complex even for his nose equipped with advanced chemical sensors. It wasn't the smell of oil or gas, but a smell like... "old photos," "rain," and "fear."
In that moment, Poggles completely forgot the workers chasing him. Scientific curiosity took over.
He lifted his long tail, which wasn't just an ordinary lemur tail for balance but an advanced sensory probe, and dipped its tip into the viscous blue liquid inside the canister.
As soon as the liquid touched his tail, an immediate reaction occurred.
Poggles' glass eyes glowed with a faint purple light instead of the usual blue. Data flooded into his processor at breakneck speed.
"Fuel..." Poggles whispered in a stunned mechanical voice. "It's a high-efficiency energy source... but its composition... biological?"
His electronic brain buzzed with thoughts and possibilities, trying to deduce the source of this strange fuel, but the answer was out of reach.
"He's here!"
A rough voice interrupted his thoughts.
The hall door opened, and a group of panting workers entered.
One of them pointed at Poggles: "Try to move him away gently from the shelves... then grab him. Don't startle him; if he breaks something, it will be a disaster."
One worker moved with cautious, slow steps toward the mechanical lemur, extending his hands like someone trying to catch a stray cat, afraid this "little boy" would cause a costly mess.
Poggles flinched and raised the open canister above his head threateningly:
"Stay back! Or I'll smash this precious canister on your heads!"
The worker froze in place, and the rest were shocked.
"It... speaks?" one whispered in horror. It was strange enough to chase a metal creature, but for it to threaten them in their own language was beyond their comprehension. Most of them thought it was another type of what they used to call xx11 before this.
Poggles took advantage of their shock. He decided to carry out his threat to distract them and escape.
"Take this!"
Poggles tried to throw the canister with all his might at the nearest worker. In his calculations, the canister would fly to hit the man's chest and drench him in liquid.
But physical reality was different. The canister was heavier than his small motors estimated, and his arms didn't have enough torque.
Instead of flying, the canister rose a few centimeters from his hand, then fell with a comedic and extremely embarrassing heaviness right next to his foot.
CRASH!
The glass shattered, and the blue liquid spilled onto the floor, emitting thick smoke.
Poggles looked at the broken glass, then at the workers who stared at him in astonishment, then said in a faint, embarrassed voice:
"Ahem... maybe I need to work out more."
Before they could recover from the shock, Poggles shot like a rocket through the other door of the hall, leaving the workers shouting and chasing after him once they confirmed his exit.
//
In the main hall, the situation was bloodier and more serious.
Silas was still behind Moros, wrapping his cane around the Supervisor's neck and squeezing hard, completely paralyzing his movement. He was panting, sweat covering his face, but his eyes burned with desperate determination.
"I don't care about anything on this island anymore..." Silas said sharply. "I've had enough of your games. Open that damn gate now, and we will go on our way without looking back."
Moros tried to breathe with difficulty, his face turning red under the pressure of the cane.
"Fine..." he said in a broken, choked voice. "I promise... if that's all it is... no one will hinder your departure... just... loosen your grip."
During this tense dialogue, Elyra was trying to stand up. She was still reeling from the blow she took to her stomach, but her fighting instinct hadn't died.
She saw her sword, "White Fang," lying a few meters away.
She crawled toward it.
One of the workers noticed her movement. He rushed quickly to grab the sword before her and move it away.
But before his hand touched the hilt, Elyra grabbed his ankle and pulled him with savage force, causing him to lose balance and fall on his face with a loud thud.
Another worker approached from behind to pin her down.
Elyra didn't stand up. Lying on her back, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around the worker's neck, and with a quick, violent scissor movement, threw him to the ground and choked him until he passed out.
Elyra stood up panting, her silver hair covering her face.
She looked at her sword. It seemed closer now. She felt a strange attraction to it, as if it were a missing part of her body. She was capable of fighting without it, yes, but she realized deep down that she couldn't "kill" without it, and killing was the only way to survive here.
She reached out toward the ornate brass hilt.
Her fingers almost touched the cold metal.
STOMP!
A heavy foot in a luxurious leather boot landed on the sword's blade, burying it into the ground and stopping Elyra's hand.
Elyra froze. She raised her eyes slowly to see the owner of the foot.
She saw a man wearing chaotic yet elegant pirate clothes, looking down at her with a broad, provocative smile.
It was the first time she had seen him with her current wiped memory... or maybe not, but to her now, he was just a new enemy with repulsive features.
The man let out a short, sarcastic laugh.
And without warning, he swung his open hand.
SLAP!
He slapped Elyra across the face with a resounding blow, so powerful it turned her face to the other side and drew blood from the corner of her mouth. Perhaps no man had ever slapped a woman with such brutality and humiliation in front of everyone before.
"I see you are savage, you whore..."
Captain Jackson said in a voice dripping with venom, wiping his hand on his jacket as if he had touched something filthy.
He swept his gaze around the hall, looking at the workers groaning from their wounds, and at the severed fingers on the floor.
"You caused a lot of damage to my partners..." Jackson said, slowly drawing his own sword, the sound of metal scraping filling the silence. "It seems many workers here will enjoy torturing you and hearing your screams very much."
He pointed the tip of his sword toward Elyra's face, his eyes shining with a sadistic glint:
"And maybe... I can have some fun time watching this myself."