Icosahunter

Ashes

Dust. Rain. That's all there ever was, every day, thought the tall polished white machine as it sieved gritty sand between its smooth fingers, letting it fall to the ground. In the distance a Great Hammer fell and within a few seconds the shockwave slapped him in the face. This is why it's all dust. He walked slowly across the shifting landscape; there was no sprinting on this terrain even if he wanted to. His bright yellow eyes illuminated something half buried in the grayish beige grit, the dull glint of metal. He reached down and brushed sand away from the object, uncovering an old propeller. It wasn't old-age material, just a broken piece of some turbine unfortunate enough to get crushed by the hammer, but nonetheless it was a material in short supply. He stuffed the scrap into his scruffy satchel, and continued wading through the shredded landscape.

Eventually he saw his abode in the distance, a long broken hammer. There's nothing quite like a machine of destruction as a defensive structure. Its massive iron walls and high tension cables were built to withstand its own destructive force, plenty strong enough to withstand the force of other things. He walked along the edge of one of its walls till he found the opening and the massive crushing plate at its center. He set down his bag, a poorly constructed thing fashioned from a drone's emergency brake parachute. The ceiling creaked and groaned above him under its own weight and the heavy wind that battered against it. He walked over to a panel in a crevice and flipped a small switch, and the distinctive crisp white floods of the hammer slammed on, filling the area with light. He sat down on the cold floor, flipped out his plasma cutter, and began working.

An odd sound echoed through the ancient walls of his salvaged fortress. A whistling, a peculiar whistling. He got up from the half finished replacement plates he was constructing and looked around. There it was again, from high up in the hammer's supports. He carefully set his foot in one of the small iron ladder bars; they weren't constructed for someone of his size, but he was able to manage, and clambered up the huge structure. He hauled himself up onto the first platform and saw it, a tiny black thing that darted through the air up to the next platform as soon as he had gotten up. He walked over to the next ladder and, as quietly as he could manage, climbed up. As he approached the top, he looked around for the thing, some sort of drone he presumed, though smaller than any he'd seen before. Then he caught a glimpse of it sitting on one of the small beams supporting the radio tower of the hammer. He zoomed in on the object as close as possible and snapped a few shots before it swooped over to another beam. It didn't take him long to realize this was no drone. This was an old-age creature. He didn't even realize there were any left, or at least any of noticeable size. The black creature sat there, twitching its head and looking intently at him as he stood there, still clinging to the ladder’s top bars. He wasn't sure what to do for a moment, and then, for the first time in many months, he used his audio drivers and let out a whistle, that same strange whistle he had heard the creature making before. The animal seemed stunned; it flitted down to the platform and inspected the large machine. He reached out one large, smooth, weather-worn hand to the creature, and it immediately took off back to its beam.

Weeks rolled by as he worked on his replacement parts, servos, plates, hydraulics, anything he could make with anything he had, because every single part of him would inevitably fail at some point, despite his sturdy military-grade construction. He'd already replaced a few plates, and it was only a matter of time now, and it kept him busy. After all, there aren't any roads to clear, or cargo to load, when the whole world is ashes. He heard the creature every now and then, singing its odd song atop the hammer, calling out for survivors. Sometimes it came down into the main room, and he would sit very still and watch it search along the ground, finding and eating tiny scampering creatures he had never even noticed before. One day it flew down through the main opening, and he stayed quiet, and the creature walked right up to him and looked him in the eyes. He stood there and gently, carefully reached out his arm. To his surprise, the creature approached it and pecked at the carbon fiber coating of his hand. As he sat there with it, he heard a noise, a whistling, but not from this creature. It came from outside the hammer. The creature looked up, turned its head quickly, and darted for the entrance. And that was the last he saw of it.