Micro’s first experience with sleep came to an uneventful end as birds began to sing in the trees and a little sunlight trickled down through the dense evergreen canopy. He sat up, cringing again at the sound his rusty armour made with every movement, and stretched until his cold, stiff joints felt a bit warmer.

  Micro looked around, and he noticed Blue had snuck into his pocket and slept among the Core Cards in his possession. Seeing the dismantled skeleton nearby, he recalled the funerals the old man had driven him to in the past. He grabbed a half burnt stick from the smouldering fire and began to dig.

  “Hmm?” Blue yawned and poked her head out of his pocket as he worked. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m going to bury him,” Micro replied while removing a large rock from the slowly widening hole.

  “Why?” She tilted her head. “Do more humans grow if you plant a dead one?”

  “I—” Micro thought for a moment. “I actually don’t know.”

  “What’s the point then?” Blue asked. “Everything turns to dust either way.”

  “True…” Micro replied. “Maybe it’s so people don’t trip on them. I wouldn’t want to trip anybody after I died.”

  “Hmm, that could be true,” Blue agreed. “Wait, grab his boots first. Your feet look gross.”

  Micro did as instructed, shaking the little bones out of each of the ancient leather boots before inserting his own feet. After figuring out which boot went on each foot, he sighed.

  “What’s wrong? They looked comfortable enough,” Blue commented.

  “They’re nothing like tires after all…” Micro’s complaint confused Blue, but he soon returned to the task he’d set for himself, moving his deceased benefactor’s bones into their final resting place. After gently setting the cultivator’s remains in the hole and filling it back in with dirt, Micro started walking in the direction Blue had pointed the previous day.

  “Oh, you remember which way to go?” Blue sounded a little surprised.

  “I’m fairly good with directions, I think,” Micro replied with a nod. “That tree wasn’t there yesterday though…”

  “Well that’s one good thing about you,” Blue replied. “Your soul still in one piece?”

  “My soul?”

  “In there.” Blue tapped his chest from her seat in his pocket. “Anything feel weird in there?”

  Micro frowned and held his hand to his chest, displeased by the feeling of the rusty armour, and thought for a moment.

  “If you aren’t working properly, I’m never getting out of here alive,” Blue added. “So make sure you’re not broken.”

  “It feels a lot better since that school bus poked me,” he said after giving it some thought. Aside from some stiffness, scrapes, and bruises, his body seems to be working. “But it still feels wrong, somehow… like it’s all the wrong shape…”

  “I guess an artificial jade core isn’t enough to contain whatever you are after all.” She looked up at Micro and sighed. “I can’t help with core stuff. I’m not a cultivator. I just use the powers I’ve got.”

  “That’s okay…” Micro smiled. “You just keep your eyes on the road.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, enjoy the ride. Are we near the house yet?”

  “It’s not far now.” Blue squinted her glowing eyes and looked ahead. “It got a bit closer last night.”

  “That’s odd,” Micro replied. “Maybe it’s a mobile home.”

  “Sure, and it looks like there really is a human there,” Blue reported. “Let’s hope they’re as helpful as the cultivator we met last night.”

  Micro was looking forward to arriving at the house. He missed the old man’s home, and he missed the garage the old man had built just for him. It had been decorated with all sorts of tools and posters, and it was never too hot or too cold.

  “By the way…” Micro began.

  “What?”

  “I don’t have a fuel gauge, but I think I’m close to empty…” He rubbed his stomach awkwardly.

  “You mean you’re hungry?”

  “Ah! So that’s what it feels like. It’s different than running low on—”

  “You’ve never been hungry before?”

  “Well, not exactly like this.”

  “Did you come from a rich family?” Blue asked, a little more genuine interest in her tone than usual.

  “Well, I guess you could say that.”

  “How rich?” She asked. “How big a family are we talking?”

  “Worldwide? Well…” Micro pondered. “Millions, maybe. It’s hard to keep track of every new model I see on the road. And there aren’t many as old as me around these days…”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “I feel like I understand less and less about you the more you talk about your past. Hey, look!” She pointed straight ahead as a small wooden structure came into view. “That looks terrible, eh?”

  It was barely bigger than the garage where Micro had lived, and it was made entirely of logs taken from the surrounding area. A steady stream of smoke billowed out a little chimney sticking out the side of the cabin, and flowers decorated most of the ground around it.

  “I wonder if the person living here knows any snake people,” Micro thought aloud.

  “What snake people?”

  “Like the school bus told me to find.” Micro tried to recall the yellow dragon’s words. “So I can fix my…”

  “Core?”

  “That’s it!”

  “Just knock on the door…” Blue rolled her eyes and jumped into his pocket to hide. “I’ll be in here if you need me. You never know what kind of weirdos you’ll find out here.”

  Micro assumed she had a good reason for hiding, and decided to press on with his current quest. He knocked on the humble wooden door, took a step back, and waited. A moment passed, and he wondered if the person living there might be out. He was about to give up on waiting when the door finally opened a crack.

  “Who are you…?” Peering through the crack in the door with one squinted eye was a very old man with a long, white, scraggly beard. His frown was unwelcoming and his voice was dry and harsh. “You shouldn’t have been able to find me…”

  “I’m a Micro.”

  “Who?” The scraggly old man squinted even more and opened the door just wide enough to be able to cast both eyes upon the boy with intense displeasure. “What sect are you from? Wait, it couldn’t be…”

  The man glared at Micro’s attire and frowned.

  “Sect?” Micro scratched his head while trying to recall the explanations he’d heard of what a sect was. “I’m looking for a serpent sect, I think… or was it water something…”

  “You’re looking for a Water Serpent Sect?!” The elder stepped backward and gasped. He rubbed his eyes and looked back down at Micro’s attire. “What business could one such as you have with those monsters?”

  “I need a better core,” Micro explained casually. “Mine is broken.”

  Micro pointed to his chest with a complicated expression, and the elder’s attention fell upon his rusty chest plate. He looked at Micro intensely and his eyes began to glow the same way Blue’s sometimes did. Micro looked back with jealousy in his own eyes.

  “An apparition…?” The old man whispered, rubbing his eyes as he observed Micro closely.

  “I miss my headlights…” Micro mumbled and blinked a few times, confirming that no light would come out of either eye.

  “To have business with any of the Water Serpent Sects, you must be…” the man said with a suspicious tone.

  “Sorry if this is a bad time,” Micro said, taking a step back. “I can just go now if—”

  “Oh my…” The elder’s eyes, which had been squinted in suspicion since they first observed the boy, were now wide in disbelief. His expression changed drastically as he appeared to realize something about his unexpected guest. “I don’t think I’ve ever met so lost a soul. You poor boy…”

  The man gestured for Micro to enter the small cabin, the door creaking loudly as he opened it up the rest of the way. Micro hesitated to pass through the little door, but soon remembered he was no longer as wide as he once was. He entered the cabin and the man closed the door behind him after poking his head out to check for any other potential visitors. The cabin was mostly empty, except for a small shelf for tools, a mat on the floor, and a short table by the fireplace, on top of which a small kettle billowed steam. However, with light pouring in through the little window and heat radiating out from the fireplace, it felt comfortable to the boy.

  “Here, sit.” The elder pointed to the floor by the table. “Drink this.”

  He quickly prepared some tea for his guest and sat across from him by the fire. Micro did his best not to choke on the tea, and enjoyed it after a few minor spills.

  “This is a nice home,” Micro commented with a sincerity that surprised the old man. “But why do you live so far from any roads?”

  “Well, it’s not by choice that I’ve secluded myself here for most of my life,” the old man began with sadness visible on his wrinkled face. His voice was soft, but it seemed to fill the small house. “But you are certainly farther from home.”

  “I think so.”

  “How exactly did a soul like yours find its way into this world?” the man asked with sympathy in his voice. “And what in the world were you? A beast of the land, perhaps? Or maybe a tree?”

  “I’m a truck,” Micro answered quickly. “Weird magicians, and a goddess named Nora… They brought me here after the accident, or something like that.”

  “A truck… I see…” the man mumbled with a deep frown. “What is that?”

  “It’s more efficient and reliable than a car,” Micro replied, his tone suddenly brightening. “My driver bought me after his father died because he needed help on his farm. He never ran out of things to carry, and we carried it all together.”

  “So you were some sort of slave, or a farm tool?” The man raised his eyebrows in dismay. “I’ve heard stories of well loved tools and other items taking on a life of their own after many years of service to their owner, but for you to have such a strong spirit… Your owner must have cared deeply for you.”

  “He does…” Micro replied.

  “To be ripped away from such a wonderful life by the whims of strange otherworldly beings…” The elder leaned back and sighed.

  Micro’s smile only widened at the man’s words, but he suddenly became aware that he had sprung a leak. The liquid dripping out of his eyes made his face wet, and he scrambled to stop the leak with the sleeve of his musty old shirt.

  “Sorry,” the boy mumbled. “I’m not sure how this body works yet.”

  “Those are tears, and you’re entitled to them after being taken from such a life and forced into such a vessel,” the man said kindly. He fetched a small cloth from the shelf and handed it to the sniffling boy whose smile still told of the happy memories at the forefront of his mind. “You must miss him dearly. But it’s unlikely that you’ll meet again in this life, or the next. The universe is vast, and our lives are fleeting, so we must treasure those happy moments before they are gone forever. Although, it would seem the world is full of surprises.”

  As the man spoke, he seemed to notice something about Micro’s old clothes, causing him to smile. A sense of melancholy nostalgia descended on the pair, and the sound of Micro’s muffled sniffling was the only sound to join the crackling fire for a little while. Eventually he calmed enough to look back up at the man.

  “I want to go home,” Micro stated plainly. “I can’t drive myself. This isn’t right…”

  “Those magicians and their evil plots…” The man shook his head in disgust. “I’m so sorry you were taken from such a loving home, but you are most likely bound to that vessel for as long as you wish to live in this world.”

  “Oh…”

  “Though crude and primitive, the magicians do seem to have constructed a vessel capable of growth,” he explained while stroking his beard. “It is much too weak to accommodate such a remarkable soul as yours, but you have time to improve upon it.”

  “I can improve this?” Micro looked down at his strange body. Its two legs, two arms, and utter lack of tires still disturbed him every time he thought of it. “How?”

  The man leaned in with a subtle grin and answered.

  “Cultivation.”