Chapter Text
At long last, Torse and Maxwell had completed the body of their first child. It was shorter and slimmer than Torse but taller and bulkier than Maxwell. There were sites for attachments on the limbs for their child to add to themself as they found their purpose.
Of course, Torse and Maxwell also added some personal touches. There were spikes on their child’s shoulders and two rows of decorative brass dots along their front—not unlike coat buttons. Their head was practically a smaller replica of Torse’s. Their fists were reinforced for throwing punches.
The last thing they made for their child was a heart. Iron from the bodies of fallen warriors was melted down into parts before being carefully, painstakingly assembled. New life was being made through the sacrifices of the past.
As their child’s completion drew nearer and nearer, Torse educated Maxwell on what to expect from a newly activated automaton.
“They will not be able to speak as humans do,” Torse warned Maxwell. “They will require time to acquaint themself with their voice box. While Zernians are given much historical knowledge stored in their memory core, it is not typically accessed until the automaton masters their body. This period of learning can be weeks for some and years for others. What differentiates a child from an adult for Zernians is not so much age as it is experience and independence.”
Curious, Maxwell asked, “How long were you a child?”
“Not long,” Torse replied. “Children did not do well under the Queen’s rule. I am…grateful that our child will be allowed more time.”
“Yes,” Maxwell said, trying not to choke up at the thought of a young Torse being thrust into battle mere weeks after being activated. “So am I.”
The heart took them twenty two days to assemble. Then, two more days to tune and test for any flaws. Eventually, they had a beautiful, polished heart. Just waiting to complete their child.
Some Zernians invited their clans to an automaton’s first awakening. Maxwell and Torse chose to keep the one for their child private. For one, it would be hard to gather their most important people from across Gath and Zood. Not to mention, Maxwell was nervous as is without a bunch of other elements—many of which were loud and chaotic—into the mix.
Torse insisted that Maxwell be the one to add and wind up the heart. The honor felt too big—Maxwell had been little more than a glorified assistant during the building—but he could never deny Torse anything. Not when he knew the automaton truly wanted it.
So, Maxwell stood in front of the body he had helped make. Its chestplate was open, exposing clockwork and wiring that was clean as only unused machinery could be. Everything about the body was clean, polished, and still. New and waiting for their chance at life.
The heart slotted into place perfectly. As did the key to wind it up. Maxwell turned the key. Turned it and turned it and turned it until he heard a click. Maxwell then removed the key, closed the chestplate, and took a step back.
He and Torse stood side by side as they waited.
Near silent was the smooth running of well-oiled, perfectly fitted gears. The quiet noise grew subtly louder though as more and more of the systems were activated.
And then, there was the quiet tick tick tock of a clockwork heart.
The visor was then glowing, a beautiful ruby red. Their child’s vision swept from Torse to Maxwell, and they let out a small whirr.
Torse whirred back before gently rumbling, “Hello, Knell. I am one of your engineers, Torse.”
“Yes, hello, Knell” Maxwell added. He was getting choked up already. Tears gathered in his eyes. Fuck, he told himself he wouldn’t cry. “I’m Maxwell. Your other engineer. Welcome to the world.”
Knell whirred at them again. A cheerful, happy sound. Their head twitched; then, their hands.
Suddenly, Knell’s arm swung out towards Maxwell. The human reflexively blocked, stopping his child from hitting him in the face. Knell didn’t seem upset by being blocked. They merely started grabbing at Maxwell’s arm, not exactly gripping. Just, feeling.
Then, the automaton clumsily tried to maneuver around the arm—which led to Knell repeatedly smacking their hand against said arm—to get to Maxwell’s face.
Maxwell realized that this was Knell being curious, exploring the world around them. This wasn’t all that different from how Maxwell’s nieces and nephews were as babies. Albeit, they weren’t nearly as large. At least Maxwell didn’t have to worry about Knell putting anything dangerous in their mouth.
Not wanting to discourage their curiosity, Maxwell lowered his arm and gently guided Knell’s hand to his face. The hand patted and poked his cheek, his lips, his forehead. Maxwell wrinkled his nose when Knell ruffled his mustache, which prompted Knell to poke at his nose.
The only things Maxwell did not let Knell poke at were his nostrils and his eyes. No thank you.
Torse stepped in at the second attempt at poking out Maxwell’s eyes. He guided Knell’s hand to his own faceplate. Knell poked at the glowing visor and the blades before returning to Maxwell.
“Apparently, I have a more interesting face,” Maxwell remarked as he redirected another attempt to poke at his eyes.
“The presence of a face is more interesting than the lack of one,” Torse agreed.
Knell whirred—as if to add his own point—making his fourth attempt at Maxwell’s eyes.
To keep said eyes, Maxwell took a step back. Knell tried to follow, leaning forward, but their current ability to balance was not up to snuff. They were all too soon toppling towards the floor.
Both Maxwell and Torse stepped forward to catch their child.
Unaware of any danger, Knell happily whirred at them. They patted at Torse’s spikes and Maxwell’s hair as the two righted their child.
Relieved, Maxwell let out a puff of air.
That had Knell pausing in their exploration. Visor light fixed on Maxwell.
Then, there was a deliberate release of air from Knell’s vents.
Familiar with the games of children—how they liked to imitate people—Maxwell blew another puff of air at Knell. The child whirred happily and let out another puff in reply. Torse also released air from his vents.
It was all ridiculous and wonderful, and Maxwell couldn’t help but chuckle at it all.
Their little copycat immediately started to whirr in the rhythm of Maxwell’s laughter.
They spent a good deal of the afternoon like that: letting Knell touch them and making noises at each other.
When Knell’s visor started to dim, Torse declared it time for young automata to power down. It was best that Knell had plenty of time to rest their systems during their early days of activation.
“Goodnight, Knell,” Maxwell said, going on his tip-toes to press his forehead to the automaton’s.
After the human stepped back, Torse leaned down to repeat the gesture himself. “Rest well, Knell.”
With one last whirr, the light of Knell’s visor blinked off.
Maxwell and Torse stood there for a moment, just looking at their child.
“We did it,” Maxwell eventually said.
“We did.”
“We’re parents.”
“We are.”
“I didn’t think parenthood would involve so much of trying not to be poked in the eye,” Maxwell commented.
Torse hummed, amused. “Our child is curious, and your eyes are lovely.”
Leaning into Torse, Maxwell said, “We really did this. It’s finally real. We made a baby.”
“A rather endearing one.”
“Yeah,” Maxwell agreed, smiling at the powered-down Knell. Their main systems were off, but the tick tick tock of their heart continued on. The sound was proof of the life they had made and were responsible for. “Holy shit.”
They really did it.