Code: R |ONC 2024|

07

Emily

"This is crazy" I gasp, spinning around. "It's so different. . ."

Instead of tabs sprawled across the floor like the rest of the Apps have been, there're small shelters. Each have an individual owner, there's half a door beside the counters that say push, and it leaves me wondering.

"Pixel. . . are you sure we have the right place?" I query as he falls into step with me, making sure to keep a few inches between us. "Do they each have their own buttons?"

Chuckling, he shakes his head and loops an arm around my shoulders. "No, silly." Glancing left and right, he whispers, "There's an underground department, and your button will be in one." Catching my doubtful crease of a brow, he offers a soft squeeze, which briefly pulls me closer to his chest. "Don't worry; from here, everything is easy flowing."

"I'm going to hold you to that," I giggle, playfully elbowing his ribs.

Laughing, he tows me along, and holographic signs appear atop the roofs as we pass. Notification and status bar, Display brightness, Sound and Vibration. . . I can't believe how many there are. It feels as if they keep going on, and on, and on with their neon titles, and strangely identical keepers. I'm not sure if they're even human judging by their shiny complexions and reflective gazes.

"Pixel. . ."

He hums in acknowledgement. "I know."

Just those two words confirm my theory, and my mood shifts from eager to anxious. They don't look hostile, but I'm sure like any shop keeper, there's protection behind each counter, ready to be used.

The signs blur past, and each pair of eyes track our every move. If you don't see it, you can feel it, and that alone makes this place more eerie than it is. The layer of fog on the ground is thick enough to hide our feet, and compared to the previous blank replacements of skies is now dim. In my peripheral, Pixel's face is calm and collected, but the way his green eyes flick in both directions in his subtle way is noticeable. I don't blame him, although, I can't hide my discomfort the way he can, and I'm certain the keepers can sense it as their eyes track us.

"There we go, just up ahead."

My eyes snap forward, and a relieved breath falls from my lips at the sight of the remaining three stores on the end. I narrowly miss walking into Pixel's back when he starts angling to the right, but there's no stress over it on his end, just a grin and his arm steering me with a light chuckle. Growing bashful, I dip my chin and focus on how the fog swirls around my ankles with each step, only looking up when they come close to a counter.

"What can I do for you?"

The tone is mechanical, distorted, and it sends shivers down my spine. Not in a good way, either.

Pixel releases me to settle his hands on the desk to balance himself as he leans in, and from there I can't see his expression. "We need to see the Factory Reset facility, please."

He keeps his voice relaxed and welcoming, but the broken curve of the man's lips suggests it's something he isn't willing to do. Using a squared off hand, jerking it up to run through spikes of hair, he shakes his head. "I can't."

There's a creak, and my eyes land on the white-knuckled grip Pixel has on the thin plank of wood. His shoulders bunch up, no longer casual, and I'm sure the look on his face isn't pleasant because the keeper croaks.

Nodding, he presses a button and the cropped door swings back on itself toward the counter, allowing us access. My stomach turns after a low rumble sounds around us and the ground shakes violently. Shooting a look at Pixel, he's already watching me with a soft smile, the innocent reassurance seeping through at the knowledge of my anxiety.