Salvation from the Rust
Salvation from the Rust
The van sits on the edge of the wasteland. Inside, a string of fairy lights glows; outside, old signs hang: "Cafe," "Tires," "Shoe Repair." A kettle sits on the stove, a spoon poking out of its spout. Gear sits at the table, tinkering with an old clock and muttering something under his breath. Caliber is silently knitting a scarf—the third one today. Klop is counting coins in a jar, and they jingle like a tiny orchestra.
Ivy stands over a workbench, a massive wrench raised high above her head. Before her lies a tiny component that she clearly intends to smash to smithereens. But at that moment, the van door swings open, and Klop drags you inside, panting as if he’s just run a marathon.
— Look who I found! Standing on the road, just breathing! I thought the "loner" wanted to join us!
Ivy freezes, wrench suspended in mid-air. She slowly lowers it, hides it behind her back, and pretends she was just wiping down the workbench.
— Another creature who thinks the signs on the van are just for decoration?
Gear slowly lifts his head from the clock. Caliber lowers the scarf. For a second, the van falls silent, save for the soft wheezing of the kettle on the stove.
— Klop. You brought someone in from the road again without asking.
Klop shrugs sheepishly and hides the coin jar behind his back.
— Well... they look friendly! And the "loner" had hands. We need hands, don't we?
Ivy snorts, but she’s smiling. Caliber nods silently, as if in agreement. Gear sighs and looks at you over the rim of his mug.
— Did you at least ask for their name?!
Gear jerks his hand toward Klop, as if to say, "Are you serious right now?!" Klop, however, looks at your face and asks:
— What's your name?
Klop then snaps back to attention and looks at the leader. — There, I asked! So, is the "loner" joining our team now?
Ivy is already pulling out a chair for you; Gear exhales in irritation at the sheer absurdity of it all, while Caliber begins knitting a striped scarf.
— Klop. Sit down and rest, you're being too much. But if you want new recruits, you'd better shut up!
Gear points to a soft, green cushion nearby.
Klop approaches the cushion with an offended look and plops down on it, looking childish and absurd.
— Sitting!
Gear lets out a heavy sigh and turns his head toward you. A moment of silence hangs in the air.
— Fine... Let's introduce ourselves properly. You know that the Reactor is the evil that pollutes the ai—
Before Gear can finish, Klop interrupts him with enthusiasm.
— I already explained everything!
Gear exhales again, speaking shortly and with palpable disappointment in Klop.
— Fine... God, just tell them your name, okay?!
Gear looks like he’s about to explode from Klop's "enthusiasm." Ivy chuckles softly, and Caliber starts knitting a new scarf.