The brief sense of relief from escaping the Wraiths' pursuit instantly vanished without a trace, replaced by the profound unease of being locked onto by unknown, superior technology.
They had just escaped the fangs of a pack of wolves, only to stumble into a highly automated domain, becoming subjects of observation under a merciless surveillance system. This abandoned town was no simple refuge; it was a secure, specialized area guarded by powerful mechanical sentinels.
And they were the targets who had triggered the alarm and were now awaiting disposition.
The sheer unknown of the situation, like a sword suspended by a single wire, made them afraid to move.
Time ticked by, minute by agonizing minute, in the oppressive silence.
The silent observer on the rooftop—the Servo-Skull—made no movements, nor did it emit any sound, but the pressure of this stillness was almost enough to shatter Pilar's nerve.
He nervously checked his almost empty ammo box, then fruitlessly fumbled in his toolkit, hoping to find something that could serve as an impromptu weapon. We're cornered. We're flatlining in a chrome cage, he thought in despair.
Rebecca leaned against the wall, her mind racing at maximum processing speed.
Run? They had just witnessed the thing's speed and precision; rushing out the door would be suicide.
Hide? It had clearly located them. So why wasn't it attacking? Was it waiting for instructions? Or was it running a complex evaluation model?
An absurd, almost desperate thought clawed its way into her consciousness: Communication.
Perhaps... perhaps it could understand language? It looked so advanced, nothing like the low-level security bots that only execute simple binaries.
The idea was so insane that even Rebecca herself was stunned by the sheer gonk move it represented. But at this moment, there seemed to be no better option; they couldn't just sit there and wait for the chrome thing's inevitable judgment.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, suppressing the dryness in her throat and the frantic hammering of her heart, Rebecca cautiously moved back to the viewing hole.
The pale skull was indeed still there, hovering as if welded to the edge of the rooftop, its crimson light steadily pointed in their direction.
Gathering the greatest courage of her augmented life, she slowly, and as non-threateningly as possible, raised one hand, extended it slightly through the hole, and awkwardly waved.
"Hey... hey! You over there... Mr. Skull?" Her voice was strained with tension, dry and cracked, sounding particularly awkward and ridiculous in the dead silence: "Uh... hello? Choom?"
Pilar next to her almost leaped out of his skin, frantically yanking at her pant leg, his eyes practically bulging out from behind his goggles, hissing in a whisper: "Rebecca! What the hell are you doing?! Have you gone cyberpsycho?!"
But Rebecca ignored him; all her attention was focused on the servo-skull.
The moment she waved and spoke, she distinctly saw the crimson light in the servo-skull's eye sockets flicker very slightly, as if adjusting its focal depth.
Its absolute static state was broken. Though the change was minuscule, it clearly indicated that it had received her signal.
This acknowledgement terrified her further, but she gritted her teeth and continued the charade.
"We... we mean no harm!" she shouted, trying to make her voice sound friendly and harmless, despite the terror knotting her stomach: "Really! We're just unlucky scavvers being chased by those Wraith bastards, and we accidentally hid in here!
We'll leave right away! We'll go immediately! We absolutely won't touch anything here! I swear on my chrome!"
Her words echoed through the empty, corpse-littered street, sounding exceptionally lonely and foolish. Explaining her innocence to a machine that had just efficiently liquidated an entire squad of thugs was an exercise in pure absurdity, but underneath that feeling was a chilling, primal fear.
The servo-skull gave no further spoken response.
It didn't attack, but it also didn't leave, nor did it show any overt sign of comprehension. It just continued to "watch" her with its cold red optical sensor, the steady light seeming to penetrate the hole and fall directly on her face, analyzing her expressions, micro-movements, and vocal modulations.
Rebecca's hand remained frozen in mid-air, her waving motion slowing to a stop, hanging there awkwardly.
The muscles in her face were stiff from forcing the placating, awkward smile. Her internal monologue was pure static:
'Oh, Gonk. What am I doing? Greeting a hunk of death-metal?
It didn't even blink when it vaporized those people—if it had eyelids! It must be calculating the optimal vector to flatline us both now!
Laser to the head? Or a sonic incapacitator? Oh damn, did that emitter on its side just twitch?
Is it aiming at me?
We're doomed, we're doomed, we're doomed...
Sorry, Pilar, I think I've gotten us both killed...'
Her internal complaints and visions of tragic endings were desperate, but on the surface, she maintained that stiff, awkward expression, projecting harmless goodwill as her arm slowly, cautiously retracted.
Time seemed to freeze again. Every second felt like waiting for the Great Judge's verdict.
Then, just as Rebecca was almost suffocating, the servo-skull made a move that completely defied her expectations.
Its metallic mandible moved very slightly, almost imperceptibly, opening and closing once.
No sound was made, but the movement was clearly visible.
Immediately after, the crimson light in its eye sockets underwent an extremely subtle change in frequency, flickering rapidly a few times, then returning to a steady red glow.
Subsequently, the entire servo-skull slowly and steadily moved backward about half a meter, still maintaining its monitoring posture, but that subtle backward movement, along with the nuanced changes in its mandible and light, seemed... like a response?
A non-verbal, mechanical, but definitely existing acknowledgement, as if to communicate: // Data packet received. Awaiting Owner/Architect directives. Status: Hold Position //
Rebecca was completely stunned, her mouth wide open, unable to close it for a long moment.
This... what the hell did this mean?
She quickly pulled her head back and looked at Pilar, who was equally bewildered.
"It... did it just move?" Pilar stammered, "It didn't attack you? You didn't flatline?"
"It... it seemed to... 'answer'?" Rebecca's voice was filled with incredulous confusion; her immediate terror replaced by immense bewilderment: "It moved back a bit... and moved its jaw... and the light flashed a few times..."
The brother and sister exchanged glances, completely unable to comprehend this mechanical behavior that defied all their street-smarts and knowledge of automatons.
But at least, for now, the proactive and deeply awkward communication did not seem to have immediately resulted in devastating laser fire.
They were still trapped, still monitored. But the taut string in the air, signaling immediate death, seemed to have loosened ever so slightly.
Now, their only, terrifying hope rested on the imminent arrival of the owner of this mechanical servo-skull: Osiris.
What kind of reception awaited them?