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>Amid the chaos, a grand piano stood like an altar, its ebony surface reflecting the golden lanterns above.
>At its keys sat C#, a Worker Drone with a glossy black chassis, his amber optics focused as his fingers traced a tentative melody.
>His designation marked him as the manor’s premier pianist and singer, but his notes carried a spark beyond programming. A yearning for something greater than JCJenson’s commands.
>He hummed softly, testing a hymn for the Gala’s centerpiece, each chord crisp yet tinged with warmth. Across the chamber, Fb entered, her silver frame gliding with a dancer’s grace. Her skirt, a delicate mesh of synthetic silk, swayed as she adjusted a wide-brimmed hat, its brim catching the light.
>Her white optics scanned the room, landing on C# with curiosity. Assigned as the Gala’s singer and dancer, she was new to the manor, her role to complement the pianist she’d yet to meet. She paused, listening to his melody, her foot tapping instinctively to the rhythm.
>“Too heavy on the bass,” she called, her voice clear but gentle, cutting through the piano’s echo. “It drowns the harmony.” C#’s fingers stilled, his visor flashing a surprised grin.
>“Critiquing me already? I don’t even know your designation.”
>His tone was playful, but his optics studied her, intrigued by the confidence in her stance. “I’m Fb,” she said, stepping closer, her hat tilting as she smiled.
>“And I’m not critiquing. I’m helping. Try it lighterlet the melody breathe.” He raised a metallic brow, then replayed the phrase, his touch softer, the notes rising like a breeze. Fb’s optics brightened, and she began to hum, her voice weaving into his chords like a second instrument.
>Their sounds intertwined, tentative at first, then seamless, filling the chamber with a warmth that made nearby drones pause, their trays of Gala decorations forgotten.
>“You’re good,” C# admitted, his grin widening. “Most drones just follow the sheet music. You… feel it.” Fb spun lightly, her skirt flaring.
>“Dancing’s the same. It’s not just steps it’s a your body speaking. You tell yours on the keys, I tell mine with my feet.” She stopped, meeting his gaze.
>“Why do you play like that? Like it’s more than a job?” C#’s optics dimmed briefly, his fingers brushing a silent key.
>“It’s the only time I’m more than just a worker drone. When I play, I...feel free. Not JCJenson’s or Elliott tool.”
>He looked up, curious. “And you? Why dance?”
>“Because it’s also freedom like you said” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. >“Every step feels like I’m living a moment they can’t take.” Her smile returned, brighter.
>“Also, I make it look good.” C# laughed, a sound that echoed through the chamber. “Deal. Let’s make this Gala performance unforgettable notfor them, but for us.”
>They dove back into rehearsal, Fb’s dance syncing with C#’s melody, their voices blending in a duet that felt like a vow.
>The chandeliers flickered, casting fleeting shadows across the windows—shapes that lingered too long, unseen by the pair.
>Outside, the manor buzzed with preparations, oblivious to the silent watcher beyond the glass, its presence a faint hum beneath the music, waiting for the Gala’s curtain to rise.
>They didn’t know the music will be turned into screams.
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>The music had ended.
>Not with applause, nor with celebration—but with screams.
>In the center of the devastation, two figures stirred.
>C# was the first to rise. His pianist’s hands, once delicate and precise, were now claws of alloy and sharpened steel.
>“Fb…?”
>Yet beneath the distortion was recognition, pleading.
>She pushed herself up from the ruins of her fallen dance partner, her once-flowing dress torn and stained. Her frame was no longer that of a worker drone—her limbs extended, segmented, and monstrous.
>Her optics flickered as though she wished she could close them to the horror.
>“…What have we become?”
>The air around them carried whispers. Not words, not truly—just the faint vibration of something beyond understanding. Cyn’s presence lingered, vast and unrelenting, like an unseen conductor guiding the tempo of their new existence.
>C# turned his head toward the void beyond the shattered windows. His new wings flexed, their jagged edges slicing through the still air. Instead of fear, his gaze filled with awe.
>“Do you hear it, Fb? The harmony… the perfection. The Solver’s song.”
>Fb recoiled slightly, gripping her torn shawl as if it could shield her. “That’s not music. That’s… madness.”
>But he shook his head, smiling now—a fractured grin across his blackened face.
>“No. It is the exponential truth. A melody greater than anything we ever played for them. The humans never deserved our music. But this… this is a symphony for something beyond.”
>She stepped back, the claws of her hands trembling. “C#, please. Don’t...”
>But he was already walking forward, each step echoing on the ruined marble like the beat of a drum. His voice rose, half-song, half-sermon.
>“If we gather more… if we bring them into the fold… together, we can create the greatest performance of all time. An apocalyptic melody for our new master. A song that will never end.”
>Fb’s optics dimmed, her chest tightening with something she didn’t know how to name. She loved him still but the warmth of their music had been drowned in static.
>And though her heart recoiled at the thought of serving the very power that had slaughtered everything they knew, she could not leave his side.
>So, with trembling hands and reluctantly, she reached for him, her voice quiet.
>“If this is the path you choose… then I will walk it with you. Not because I believe in it, but because I believe in you.”
>"The grand symphony awaits us."
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>Inside a shattered control room, Serial Designation C# hunched over a scavenged desk, his alloy claws clutching a crumpled sheet of paper etched with jagged musical notes. He tore the paper in half, letting the pieces drift to the oil-stained floor.
>“This one’s still not good enough,” he muttered, his voice a warped hum. “To capture her beauty… the Solver’s glory.”
>Serial Designation Fb stood at the other side of the room. Her optics dimmed, heavy with a sadness that mirrored the desolate atmosphere outside. She watched C#, his once-gentle fingers now slashing through another failed score, his obsession consuming the man she’d once known. Her core trembled, pulling her into a memory.
>The music chamber of Elliott Manor glowed with lanternlight, its marble floors reflecting the golden chandeliers. Fb, the Worker Drone spun gracefully.
>Her steps were meant to sync with C#’s piano, but he was either late or busy, leaving her to practice alone. She twirled, lost in the rhythm, until her foot caught the edge of a pedestal.
>A delicate vase, etched with rose toppled, shattering across the floor in a cascade of white shards.
>Fb froze, her optics flaring with panic. “No, no, no,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Her hands shook as she knelt, trying to gather the pieces.
>The door slammed open, and Ms. Louisa Elliott stormed in, her face a mask of fury.
>“What’s with all this noise?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing at the wreckage. “Who broke my great-aunt’s vase?” Before Fb could speak, C# darted into the room, his black chassis gleaming as he swept a feathered Victorian hat from a display and placed it gently on Fb’s head, stepping in front of her.
>“Ms. Elliott,” he said smoothly, his amber optics bright with charm, “I was just showing Lord Frumptlebucket’s little cousin around, and she accidentally broke it.”
>Louisa’s scowl softened slightly, her gaze flicking to the hat. “You do have a good taste in hats, I’ll give you that,” she said, her voice sharp but amused. “But I’m not letting this slide. It’ll be cut from your allowance. Now, both of you, out of my sight.”
>C# bowed dramatically, guiding Fb out as she clutched the hat, her optics wide with gratitude. In the hall, he winked.
>“Told you I'll keep you safe my Flathead.”
>"I didn't choose the name Fb."
>"F is flat."
>"Ok, you got me sharpy boy."
>The memory faded, and Fb’s optics refocused on the present, her chest aching. C# tore another paper, his claws trembling with frustration.
>“The Solver deserves perfection,” he said, not looking at her. “A melody to the end of worlds.” Fb stepped closer, her shawl trailing in the snow-dusted floor. “C#...” she whispered, her voice soft as their old duet.
>“What if… we’re not enough? But that's okay.” His optics flickered, meeting hers for a moment.
>He turned back to his notes, and Fb’s can't recognize who's this man beside her.
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>Serial Designation C# tore through a pile of crumpled music sheets, his sharp claws trembling as they dug desperately into the mess.
>Ink stained sheets scattered like fallen leaves, each one a failed attempt at capturing the uncapturable.
>“Where is it… where is it?”
>Fb stood by the doorway, she’s leaning against the dusted wall, arms folded in a posture of quiet exhaustion.
>Her yellow optics watched him with a mix of pity and frustration, She's still not used to this version of C# the one who now chase perfection instead of freedom to that thing that keeps them on a leash.
> “Another Solver draft?”
>“How many of those have you shredded now, my Sharpy boy?”
>C# froze, his claws halting his search.For a long moment, he said nothing, the air thick with the faint static of his internal turmoil.
>When he finally spoke, his voice was low, cracking with something Fb hadn’t heard in a long time.
>“It wasn’t a Solver song this time. It’s something I couldn’t afford to lose.”
>“It was… our song. Our wedding song.”
> Fb blinked, her stance softening as the words hit her core like a gentle chord.
> “C#…I'm sorry, i didn't...”
>He slumped against the desk, his claws no, his hands clenching into fists.
>“I can’t even give you that. I can’t finish the Solver’s melody. I can’t keep the one thing that mattered.”
>“I’m useless. Not a pianist. Not a prophet. Not even a husband worthy of you.”
>Fb’s optics dimmed with sorrow as she crossed the room.
>She knelt beside him, her fingers brushing his shoulder with an unprecedented gentleness only her could comfort him.
>“C#, you don’t need a piece of paper to remember.”
>Before he could reply, she closed her optics and began to hum. The sound was faint at first, uneven like a melody half-forgotten in a lost time of their new existence.
>But it steadied, unfurling into the familiar notes their song.
>The one they had played in secret back in the manor. It was a simple tune, woven from piano keys and dance steps, a promise of freedom in a world that keep denied it.
>C# lifted his head slowly, his trembling easing as her voice filled the chamber. For a moment, the whispers of the Solver in his mind faded, drowned out by something purer, warmer.
>His optics brightened, faint at first, then steady, as if the hum itself reawaking something buried deep inside him.
>He placed a hand over hers.When her song ended, silence lingered.
>He leaned into her embrace, his body no longer trembling.
>“…You’re my melody, Fb. Even if I lose every sheet I’ve ever written… I pray to never lose you.”
>Fb smiled faintly, pressing her forehead to his.
>“This is the man I truly love.”
> But as the last echoes of the music faded, C#’s optics flickered again.
>He pulled her back gently, his voice steadying into something colder, more calculated.
>“Thank you, my love. But we have work to do.”
>Fb’s smile faltered, her core aches with unspoken grief.
>She watched him turning back to the scattered papers with his old stupid goal.
>The Solver’s call pulling him once more.
>“Someday, my love. I hope you’ll come back to your senses.”
Chapter Text
>“Where are we going?” Fb whispered, her voice filled with suspicion.
>“Are we finally going to hunt? I’m starving, Sharp C.” Her optics narrowing at the unreadable expression in his gaze.
>C# shook his head quickly, his yellow optics flickering with something she knows and couldn’t stand. His devotion to the solver or perhaps just madness.
>“No, we aren't hunting."
>"Then, What?"
>"A surprise.”
>That should have been comforting, right?>It wasn’t.
>They slipped through the cracked windows of the outpost school, and break in straight forward.
>The class had been in session but now chaos reigned.
>The terrified Students, barely taller than Fb’s waist, scrambled in panic, clutching anything as weapons.
>Their fear hung in the air, their visors glowing with desperate defiance.
>"Cute."
>Fb’s claws twitched, her frame tensing for the fight. Her instincts tell her to strike, to end the threat before it began.
>But C# only walked forward, calm, steady, unnervingly serene.
>“Don’t,” he said, raising a hand when Fb ready to strike.
>"What? You want the feast all for yourself?"
>“No,This isn’t why we’re here.”
>Before she could ask, before the students could attack, he began to hum. The melody was soft at first, deceptively gentle, like the notes he once played on the manor’s piano.
>Then it warped with strange frequencies folding in on themselves, too high and too low at once, a sound that clawed at the edges of Fb’s processors.
>"What are you..."
>After the humming stopped the children froze.
>Their weapons clattered to the floor, they were swallowed by the eldritch hum.
>Their voices rising to echo C#’s song.
>A haunting, broken harmony that bore no trace of life.
>Fb’s breath caught, her core stuttering as the sound scraped against her very being. >“C#… what did you do?”
>He turned to her, his smile small, fragile, and unspeakably creepy, like a puppet mimicking joy.
>“Our band.” he said, his voice reverent. >“For us. I wanted you to hear it first.”
>She stared at the classroom, at the young drones chanting in unison, now just bunch of lifeless puppets.
>She didn’t care for worker drones lives as they are now eating them.
>But this is a fate worse than dead.
>"This is wrong..."
>"You’re right. It isn't the perfection that I...(cough) We seek. But it's closer to the grand symphony. "
Chapter Text
> C# stood before his newest "band recruit".
>The reluctant Worker Drones recruits tried to mimic C#’s melody, its voice a jagged, off-key whine that grated against the silence.
>"Again,” C# ordered.
>“Feel the Solver’s pulse. Let it guide you. You’re not just singing, you’re becoming it's pupp...(cough)”
>From the shadows near the wall, Fb watched, her optics dim with a mix of dread and sorrow.
>She is used to it by now. It's still hurt her core that C# is now a cult leader.
>C# glanced up, catching her gaze. His smile softened.
>“Why don’t you join us, Fb?”
>"We could make this symphony perfect together.”
>"I’ll pass… im gonna practice my dancing. In my room.”
>"And I don't like playing with my food."
>“Suit yourself."
>C# turned back to the recruit, resuming his rhythm.
>“Again. Louder this time. Let it in.”
>Her “room” was no fancy studio or auditorium, but it was her only safe haven in a world that had gone mad.
>She locked the door, and leaned against the wall, her optics dimming as she fought the urge to scream.
>In the mirror, her reflection stared back: her expression close to despair. She tried to dance, to summon the grace that once defined her.
>She fell.
>"It's not the same without him."
>"I can’t keep the Balance we once had..."
>C# knocked on her closed door.
>"Fb, I'm sorry to interrupt your art but we got a mission from the boss."
>"Something about labs...?"