Automation and Beating Hearts

Mr. Crowley take us away

Chapter 5:

"--As you know here in Raven works there is no one other than us that can compete with our androids!" Crowley boasted twirling his cane as he struts—with his long legs you struggled a bit to chase after the flamboyant owner. He led you out of the bright halls of Scarabia, leaving behind the poor Manager unit behind. While you were blindsided from the reveal, you wished he would at least turn her back on. She was so life-like, it was rather saddening to leave her turned off.

True to his bird-like nature, Crowley caws," Not even Royal Sword Automation can hold a candle to our best androids! Why of course you must have heard of our Vil unit!"

And as always Neige Units name follows not too far off.

"Yeah, a real...real heart stopper," you say, face feeling hot remembering how you almost made out with the glass case. Thank Merlin, Manager Unit stopped you, remarking this happens in the most depressing way ever. Inwardly you panic wondering as you realize there would be cameras here! What if he saw? Sweating bullets, you clear your throat," So like, what other units do you guys have? Is it just humans and merfolk or-?"

"Oh dear customer! You'll be in for a treat!" He turns his head in your direction but not really looking at you, the swagger in his steps as the heels of his shoes click on the floor. You follow him back to the middle of the intersection of the hall, he turns to you with a grin that curls," We proudly represent every group, however many are limited edition and others rarer than their fellow androids. Why no one is as mindful as us, to make such a palette for every vice!" With a bright smile, his cane hits the ground and with a grand sweeping gesture he mentions to the wall,"Behold!

"....A wall?"

"Very observant, but not quite!" He tuts, lifts his cane and holds it between his hands, and just as easily did the cane melt into his palms and is no longer there. With a flicker of his hands, the elegant way he spun his fingers did come from his palm, a key similar to the one Manager Unit had earlier, appeared. He held it up to you, the flicker of your reflection looked back at you and once again it was gone with a twist of his wrist.

"Ready my dear customer?" He asks, his eyes glow from behind his mask," Now don't be afraid, where we go many new faces await for us so..."

He offers that gloved hand, the faint scent of leather waft, the golden talons of his fingers click as they wait for you,"-- Take my hand and do not let go."

His voice low and lulling, washing over you like the first spring rains that come at night. The tips of those lips that carve into your mind.

You step forward, and against any better judgment take his hand. The cool touch of gold over your fingers felt oddly nice. With a key in his hand, he unlocks the wall, and it ripples— till it smoothes and shines like polished stone. The mysterious Crowley slowly begins to step back, enticing you into the mirror. It's dark glass consuming him, the small pin point of his eyes coax you to join him as he sinks in...

"Dear flower of evil, come into our mirror and see our wonders."

.

.

.

It felt weird, almost like stepping into a wall of water rather than metal or even goo. Once through you smell the faintness of metal, the whirl of fans and flicker of fire. Your eyes snap open and you look around, your voice hitched in your throat. Whatever the budget they had, it's been well spent. The ground wasn't carpet, its polished black tiles, and smooth stone walls. White skeletons who kneeled but their heads gaze up at the tall ceiling that curves into a softer type of stone. Pillars of marble, smoothed over and so carefully carved into rolls of clouds that were sealed with— what you hope weren't the blood of your fellow commoners– gold.

Once more, like the second floor there was another split into two halls. Where the skeletons lined up, was a hall of marble pillars polished and blinding. Lighting the room seems to be a mix of traditional veilfire of bright blue, and the holograms that popped up with cheery facts of this hall.

Ignihyde— current androids on display: 2. Representation of the Island of Woes, King of the Underworld–Hades.

There was more information, but that didn't matter right now. You can't read it fast enough as the words go up in smoke and rewind. Turning around you see no one, Crowley had practically disappeared. Turning back, you see the other hall lined with torches of green veilfire, walls lined with thick branches of thorns, unlike this hall you can't see anything else around the bend of its hall. A faint pulse of green light glows, soft and pretty...

Green like emerald, pulsing as a heartbeat would....

The light of the fire curls around the thorns, creating faces and dancing wings that flutter between the flickers of veilfire...

You take a step towards the hall but before you can go any further, the beat of feathers accompanied by the click of heels.

"Dear Customer! Where are you heading off too?" Crowley's voice brings you out of your stupor. He continues, now looming over your side as he herds you back to the spot where you entered," Now before we head off, I must ask you my dear, what does our world value most? Tradition or Progression?"

It's a strange question, asked by a strange man but before you can answer he ignores you as continues to speak,"Why it's both! As traditions have become our stability, an identity and our roots, progression has led us far with its innovations to surpass what was thought to be impossible. Far have we come from our Golden Era of magic, where legends had risen from the ashes and hero's have come from humble beginnings." He twirls you around, making you stumble after him as he does, suddenly you wish the Manager Unit was here instead as you're pretty sure the more sassy unit would at least get to the point.

"Like the Great Seven," You add in, catching yourself from the temptation of stepping on his cloak," They were the foundation of how magic grew over time—- the grand Vizor was able to make advanced machines during the Scalding Sands development."

Crowley claps his hands rapidly," Bravo! Bravo! It seems you can be clever when you wish!"

You felt your blood rise but keep it down. "Gee thanks."

"Now don't be so humble!" Crowley tuts," Take your praise in stride! Where progression creates, it must have a foundation in its roots. To our future, we have brought you magic that can come to even the smallest of its holders. To magic users, technology that created companions. Now, my dear customer....which will you choose to venture in first?"

He leans back up, straight and chest out as he raises an arm to the Grecian like hall,"Progress..."

He raised his other hand, cane in hand, to where the dances of shadow in veilfire await." Or Tradition..."

He smiles widely beneath that mask, his eyes flicker...

"Choose, flower of evil...."