What I’d misunderstood as voices hits my ears as noise. Sounds that clash against each other that come from mouths, but that don’t have any of the cadence or intent behind them to be a voice. It’s like listening to heavy machinery operating in the background of a busy cafe, but it’s drowning out all the sounds of people.

  But they react to the sounds like they mean something. One plastic paindne rolls their eyes and crosses their arms. The one they’re talking to huffs and leans forward accusingly, but their sounds stay exactly the same. Not even a change in volume. I share a look of disbelief with Clutter for more than a few seconds until he eventually decides to walk forward.

  Careful, quiet steps carry him through the crowd. Not a single one of the paindne reacts to him. He turns back to me and shrugs, discomfort plain in his body language. Considering how much he didn’t like the single construct we saw a few days ago, he must absolutely hate this.

  I scratch my forearm and take a deep breath. This is obviously the change the quest hinted at. But… there’s so many paindne here in just this little part of the city. If it was the same all across this place, then there should be… millions of them here. Maybe even more. Why would a city need this many plastic constructs? Especially ones that look and act like normal people?

  The question rests at the forefront of my mind as I step out to follow Clutter. A pair of paindne that are close to me turn a little at the sound of my footsteps, and their noise shifts to be projected straight at me. One of them raises an eyebrow in question, even though their sound doesn’t come close to questioning. I wave a hand and shake my head, which gets a sideways glance from them, but they go right back to their conversation a moment later.

  “What the heck are these?” Clutter whispers, his attention locked on what looks like a family with two school-age children. “Why would the quest make plastic constructs that almost look like normal people?”

  I blink. “Almost?”

  Clutter nods. “Yeah. Almost. Um, aside from the obvious fact that they’re made of plastic–just like the construct was–there’s something wrong with these ones. Here, look at this one.”

  He motions at a paindne sitting on a bench with their arms crossed and head turned downwards as their chest heaves rhythmically. A noise like metal scraping metal expels from them with every breath in place of the quiet breathing of sleep. I take as close a look as I dare without drawing the attention of all the other constructs here, since they can see me but not Clutter, but I can’t seem to pinpoint any real differences.

  “Maybe it’s because I’m not a paindne, but I can’t see a difference.” I straighten my back and raise an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with them?”

  The look he gives me is full of confusion. “You really can’t see it? It’s pretty dang obvious; look at their tail.”

  The tail? I lean to the side and look down at it. At the base it’s about the same; thick and muscular like the back half of a shark. But as I trail down to where the fin should be… there’s nothing there. Just a rounded tip at the very end. I frown as the inaccuracy hits me; it’s something that I wouldn’t have even thought to look at if Clutter didn’t point it out. But now that he’s mentioned it, I can’t help but notice how absolutely none of these paindne have fins on their tails.

  Or sharp teeth. Instead, they’ve got two rows of flat dental-appliance-like trays in their mouth that smack together like a nutcracker’s mouth when they talk. And with that, the floodgates burst. I keep noticing little detail after little detail that’s just… wrong about them. But not outright wrong, as if whoever made them didn’t know what a paindne was, but… but…

  It’s almost like they’re… low resolution. Just the absolute basic forms of a paindne–enough to get the idea of them through, but up close, they look wrong. That’d explain why their voices are weird, too; they don’t have the necessary things to make complex sounds. Just one slightly different noise per person.

  “I think we’re here a little too early.” I chuckle and shake my head. “The quest hasn’t finished loading in all the paindne yet.”

  Clutter frowns deeply. “It’s magic. Wouldn’t you feel it a lot more if they were being created right before our eyes?”

  “I…” I pause and feel at my awareness. The environment around us feels slightly magical, but not the paindne. “Shit, you’re right. Second opinion?”

  Pearl shakes her head. “He’s right.”

  “Damn. Okay, now I have no idea why we have low resolution plastic paindne here. Should we wait around and see if sleepy here starts getting some more detail?” I motion at the sleeping one for emphasis. “Or do we think this is the most detailed the quest is going to make them?”

  Nobody answers. The silence speaks of uncertainty, but I’m not quite in agreement. We’ve seen the system make detailed reproductions with plastic, and we’ve seen it be extremely lazy with it. What we haven’t seen is the in-between; something that’s going to eventually be completed. I have a feeling this is the most detailed we’re going to see these paindne.

  “Do we just… keep looking?” Clutter asks as he looks from plastic paindne to plastic paindne. “This is definitely the change the quest was talking about, so what are we supposed to do about it?”

  Hell if I know. Maybe it’ll be obvious; another notification when the quest’s done with its work. Or maybe we’ll have to scour every inch of the district for hints. At least now we know where to look instead of blindly running in the hopes of finding something new. Actually… what’d happen if we all up and moved to another district? Would that one start changing too?

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Something to try when we’ve got fifteen people who’ll work with us.” I murmur to myself. One of the plastic paindne looks over at me from behind a counter, but they don’t say anything. “Ugh, this is just unnerving. At least they’re not trying to kill us.”

  “For now.” Clutter grumbles. “But what happens if some of those twisted paindne show up? Do we have to fight them around all these plastic people? Would we be penalized for accidentally hurting them? Or what if the quest expects us to protect these people from the things we’ve been fighting so far?”

  Pearl hums in thought. “Like a bigger version of defending the tower; defending the district. I could see that happening.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t. This place is massive, and I’m still running out of combat spells.” I summon a hexagonal coin and flip it in my fingers. “Wish I could break these things down into ghost quarters. Then I’d be way more useful.”

  A shiver runs down my spine. Clutter grabs my shoulder and turns me so we’re back to back, his entire body tensed and ready for combat. Every single plastic face is turned to stare at me, even as their bodies keep moving through whatever else they were doing. There’s no change in volume, intensity, or even hostility. Just their heads and eyes locked on me.

  I close my hand around the coin, obscuring it from view. Dozens of necks snap back into place, turning heads to their proper directions as the plastic paindne continue about their day like nothing happened. Clutter’s steady breathing refuses to accept that things are normal, and the creeping sensation that we’re being watched seeps into my awareness like ink dying a glass of clean water.

  “You got something’s attention.” Pearl says seriously. “Be really careful with those coins. The plastic paindne might think they’re… one of their own.”

  With a shallow nod, I send the coin back to my inventory. “Think it’s because I’m not supposed to have these at this point in the quest?”

  Pearl snorts. “Which would make this the quest’s way of warning you against using them. No, I don’t think so; it seemed annoyed, but I don’t think it would try to shut you out of using them. It’s not like they make your spells stronger than a normal coin of that value would be.”

  “I don’t know. Just be careful with them.” Clutter finally speaks up. “The horizonguard could’ve noticed that right now. Heck, he might be the presence that’s sending chills down my spine.”

  “If he wants us, he knows where we are. Probably has since we started talking to the party. Maybe even longer.” I latch onto the coins in the tower and nod at Clutter. “I can take us back right now, or we can explore for a little while longer. You make the call.”

  Clutter freezes for a second, then slowly looks out into the distance. I can feel the tension in his every movement, discomfort at the plastic paindne around him plain to see. He swallows hard enough for me to see and hear it. Then his inky darkness bleeds away, and he’s standing fully visible right next to me. A few of the paindne glance his way, but it’s nothing more than a momentary distraction for them.

  “We should check on the construct.” He reluctantly says. “It could have some new information now that the city’s… populating. Or whatever this is.”

  I pause to give him a few seconds to reconsider. But he seems set with his decision. I pull on the relocations in the tower, drop a new pair of coins when we appear, and walk down to the room with doors as Clutter stews in his choice. The reluctant glances he shoots at the top of the tower, then at the lighthouses as we descend the stairs, speak volumes to how much he doesn’t want to see the construct again.

  “I can go on my own if you’re this uncomfortable. It’s already happened once.” I press my hand to the vault-like door without opening it. “Stay behind if it bothers you this much.”

  He vigorously shakes his head. “Not when you could be in danger. Last time was just for a talk; now the horizonguard could be waiting for you with spells and swords. If I let you get hurt, I’d never be able to forgive myself. Even if you forgave me.”

  “Alright.” I push intent into the door, and it hisses open. “Oh, uh, just in case… be ready for the construct to be… not the same as the last time you saw it.”

  A shaky smile reflects off the wall. “How bad could it be?”

  “Bad. Or more like just plain horrific.” I chuckle humorlessly as I grab the door to the construct’s alcove. “The heart of the heretic messed with it something fierce. Just be ready for anything.”

  He swallows hard again. I nod in agreement and slide the door open, revealing an empty space where the construct had been. Swirls of wire-like plastic squirm about on the floor, then knit themselves together to begin forming the construct from the ground-up. Clutter whimpers as the door shuts behind us, but doesn’t try to run away. I squeeze his shoulder supportively, and he shoots me a look of gratitude.

  “He-he-he.” The construct spins up, its face half-distorted like melted metal. “Trial. Heretic. Shellraiser. Come, come, come. See. Look. Witness.”

  Clutter grimaces and looks away. The construct doesn’t even notice. If anything, it looks more damaged than the last time we saw it. Is that even possible? Did the quest do this as punishment for ‘helping’ us out?

  I grimace. “The city is changing. Do you know what’s going on?”

  A look flickers across the construct’s face. It’s nothing like any expression I’ve ever seen before; pained, curious, desperate, bored, and certain all in one. Garbled noise spills free from its mouth out of time with the opening and closing of its lips. It’s… pitiable.

  “What is it saying?” Clutter asks from behind me. “I can’t understand a word it’s saying.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “Nor can we.”

  A shape slithers free of the shadows, long and sinuous and writhing with countless other things inside of it. Clutter yelps in surprise and tries to disappear, but he’s too agitated. I summon a shield around us–me, Clutter, and the construct–as the shape expands and twists until it’s in the shape of a body. A body cloaked in a skintight bodysuit, plentiful stone jewelry decorating every free inch of it.

  And an armored mask covering its face. Just like the horizonguard I know, but with a solemn visage of pious neutrality carved into the stone.

  “How very nice to finally meet in person. We have been waiting for quite a while.” The masked figure coos in a soothing, smooth voice. “It is saddening that we have to be enemies. You would have made an excellent unknowing source of insider information into your small yet mighty organization.”