001 ☪ awakening

[double_edged]

Oddly enough, he hadn't remembered falling asleep.

His reserves had still been at full capacity, the gentle pressing and steaming of the vents on his back pumping out waste, refreshing his systems and keeping him alert enough to trek along the exhibition. Though here he was, head bowed and eyes closed almost in meditation, metallic arm th-thumping against something dull and thick, with the other following.

Except that one wasn't metallic. And he felt something that was not native to Torren IV, or anything he could remember. The hand moves with urgency, patting the walls, pushing, nudging breaking.

Breaking? Yes. Yes, it was breaking. It just needed some more weight. More force, more energy, and--

CRACKLE!

He was out.

The metallic skeleton in his legs makes the weight reverberate a little more in the dreary, hollow room, echoing through its endless walls, but... he's out. His good ear flattens against his head, breath catching in his throat as he realizes - this is not Torren. This is not home. He might have just taken a step back, to the remains of where he had been--

A prison. Sarcophagus, by the looks of it, and what he remembered from Vullard lore about the technology of olden days. Devices used to kidnap and torture others, and he had just been someone's victim.

Who? Why? What planet was this, and why was he alone? Where were the Vullards?

Where was anything?

Comments

[last_lombax]

Ratchet had been out on one of his patrols earlier in the day and decided to catch some sleep in the sarcophagus room. Normally he'd do it outside but right now it just seemed the most quiet place. The outside still felt wet from the week's worth of rain and he was in no hurry to take a nap on wet grass. The loud tracking slowly raises him from his sleep and he looks around. His too groggy to really take in much detail. Was someone new here or did someone just come to bust up the sarcophagi?

"Hello?" He asked aloud as he slowly stood up and stretched his back.