Chapter Text
-♌︎-
“Eons ago, monsters emerged from the Earth. Life was different back then, y'know?
The sky was blue! Blue! Can you imagine that? Giant pillars of steel where palaces used to be! And, like… grass! Everywhere! You see all this sand? It wasn't there! It was endless greenery, rather than endless sand…
Ah, I'm skipping ahead, aren't I? You probably only want to hear the story, new friend! Well…
So, monsters emerged, and apparently attacked. I don't really know. I wasn't, y'know, born when that happened. Or had the chance to talk to any real monster, since all you see nowadays are hybrids… But! Yeah. So, humans defended themselves against the evil new foes.
Monsters were defeated easily, thanks to humanity's efforts. However… The monsters had something incredible. Abilities humans could only dream of. Which made them really valuable slaves, apparently.
Many countries fought to get their hands on some monster slaves. They were all the rage, new free labor, incredibly effective and functional and everything. Y'know, classic noble mentality, they suck ass.
Back then, I kinda got a glimpse of it myself back in my old town, everyone was equal. Kind of- but the gist of it was, humans didn't enslave one another like they do now.
Then the big slave wars brought out nuclear weapons- technology we have now lost- but that's why everything is as shitty as it is now. Pretty depressing, uh little guy?
But then, after the nuclear wave cleared and air was breathable again, people emerged, and many smaller factions formed. Some of them formed Outposts, while others survived for a few generations as hidden towns.
As you can see, though, nobles are shit. They had established their little hierarchy in their little outposts, and life became a warfare for everyone. This outpost here, Outpost 5, used to be one of the independent peaceful towns.
Do you know my father used to rule it? He was soooo cool. And everyone was so nice! And our clothes were fancy, not these… rags and cloths and chains and belts and whatever. And I definitely didn't have this tattoo! No one did! Like nobles!
I remember cultivating our own crops… I remember singing, free, in our little town, everyone loving one another. Love came easier back then, little guy.
Oh, wait! I forgot to tell you about hybrids! I'm stupid… so much about promising to tell you everything there is, uh?
So, hybrids! They're, like… monster human hybrids. That's… All I know about them, really. Oh, and like, half the time one of their parents is a noble, too. But they're still the lowest ring of the ladder!
Yeah. If you want some advice from me, little guy, is to not be racist. Like, who cares if you have a tail or cat ears or an extra eye, right? You can just… be normal! We all suffer the same way, why should we make their life hell?”
The boy looked up at her as she spoke, eyes glinting. She was leaning back against a wall, box in hand, smiling at him as if she just said the most important thing the world had to offer.
A guard suddenly noticed them, and scowled. It was hard to miss her, with her loud, proud voice, vibrant amber eyes and long, raven hair. Not to mention, her blue tips had become fairly infamous in Outpost 5…
“10, stop loitering around!”
10- or as she was called before her town got conquered, An- scowled at the guard, displeased, but started walking again, the chains around her clothes moving as she did so.
The little boy who was listening to her talk- a certain 26- marched behind her, his box held up in An's hands. She had offered to take on her shoulders his load too. Why? Well…
“Generosity can go a long way, little guy. Never forget that. Who knows, someone you help today might help you tomorrow!”
With that and a proud wink, she dropped their boxes into the designated spots. The raven rubbed her forehead, grinned, and leaned down, grabbing the little kid in a piggy back ride. He emitted a quiet “woah!”, surprised, before exploding in a smile.
“You in for a run back to the next box?”
The kid nodded and chuckled as she took off, guards and other slaves glaring at them. In their world, they didn’t exactly have the privilege to be that happy and carefree. Usually, children were left struggling the most, so they’d learn the lesson, and no one dared to help them, afraid of punishment.
An, instead, simply didn't care.
-♈︎-
The metal was rusting again. That's not good. The master won't be pleased when he returns. If it wasn’t in perfect conditions, he was going to be mad at her again.
She kept scouring through the scraps of the factory, hoping to find something- anything- to fix the statue. It was hard, chained to that stupid chair, but she had to. It was her job. Her whole purpose, all they taught her and all they used her for.
What she was good at.
09 kept looking, and looking, the metal clicking under her boots as she looked, and kept looking, and- there, finally. The perfect part to fix that mess. Careful not to strain her battered body, she leaned down and inspected it better.
She grabbed a long piece of metal, and her eyes lit up a gentle orange. Her hands warmed up slightly as she climbed onto the ram statue, modelling the metal to fit the new hole that rust had formed in the structure. Perfect. Looked like new.
It had to be perfect. Such were the master's orders. That was all Outpost 3 ever asked of her. The only reason why they kept her around at all.
09 jumped back down, dusting herself off and checking if her horns were damaged somehow. Last time, she had accidentally hit them as she jumped off, and that had hurt… After making sure there was no damage, her eyes dulled back to their usual light brown hue before sitting back onto the chair, waiting. Always, eternally waiting.
Surely, her master will come back soon. The statue would be destroyed, and she'd have to build it again. And again. And again. And again. For as long as her lungs drew in air and her magic worked.
Such is the nature a freakish hybrid like her is meant to live in.
Such is the nature of the Hollow Constructor.
And that nickname, assigned to her, was all 09 was ever going to be. She was, with utmost certainty, sure of it. That was her destiny and her only identity.
It had to be.