Unexpected Results

What frustrated the construct—if such a term applied—was how efficiently inefficient Dren could be. His constant stops to inspect rocks, doodle maps, or launch into rambling monologues slowed their progress. Yet, these distractions sometimes yielded unexpected results.

Once, while Dren was scribbling a “portrait” of the construct in the dirt (an unflattering caricature with googly eyes), the delay had inadvertently allowed a distant dust storm to pass by without them getting caught in its path. The construct logged the incident, though it couldn’t decide if it was serendipity or some incomprehensible human tendency to stumble into safety.

Still, for every stroke of luck, there were countless missteps. Dren once attempted to “befriend” a spiny insect the size of his forearm, oblivious to its venomous stinger. The construct had dispatched the creature silently and left Dren muttering about how “it must not have liked me.”

As they moved closer, the terrain began to shift subtly. The ground hardened, cracks spidering out in unnatural patterns. In some places, crystalline structures jutted out of the earth, refracting the weak sunlight into fragmented rainbows.

Dren hopped down to inspect one of the crystals, running his fingers along its surface. It felt warm to the touch, almost alive.

“Okay, now this is weird,” he said, glancing back at the construct. “You think this has anything to do with that big thing we’re heading toward?”

The construct whirred again, louder this time.

“Right, right,” Dren said, nodding as if they’d had a meaningful exchange. “Let’s keep moving.”