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The air within the tight chambers of the level usually referred to as 0-3 // Double Down was stale, stuffy with the stench of blood and gore from the dozens of husks having their bodies slashed and blown apart, the old ventilation systems did little to flush away the particles of dried organic matter that would later be sucked in by any machine’s fans or any flesh being’s lungs. Swordsmachine didn’t seem to mind this grimy environment however, as they showered in the thick red of these mindless creatures’ bodies; taking in every drop of it and synthesizing it into fuel to power the next set of powerful slashes. This was what they had known for an indefinite amount of time, about as long as they could remember, the upper layers of Hell were packed to the brim with helpless foes just waiting to be slain and damned forever.
After so many repairs, rebuilds and changes to their own form, they had grown prone to overheating whenever their killing sprees drew out for too long. Their motors could only handle so much constant overdrive before the heat began interrupting connections, forcing their gears to stutter and their movements to get choppy. In normal circumstances, an hour or two of rest would be enough to get them going full force again, but sometimes when the fuel was low they were forced to go until some extra action needed to be taken to push their components to cool down. Right after slashing the last schism in that room in half and greedily taking in its blood, they realized… This would definitely be one of those odd, dire cases.
Swordsmachine could feel their form lag and twitch, making them grunt in displeasure, a light cloud of steam leaving the tangle of wires at their neck and abdomen when they turned to look around the room. Not much else than the massacre they’d left behind, but they could at least hide in a more tucked away corner – it would be horrible if something or someone saw them in the vulnerable position they were right about to put themself in. They stumbled over to that secluded area, their sword dragging across the textured floor with the ringing, scraping sounds of metal on metal. Once they were close, their back hit the wall, and they slid down with another exerted puff from their pistons. Their able hand laid itself on their chest, fingers hooking on the edge of the plating there as they took a moment to settle down, their head leaning back to be supported on the wall.
A few minutes of this, and no change. They had hoped that the overheat would at least show that it was subsiding after resting for a while, but they could still feel the jittering of their internals trying to function under extreme pressure, so this had to be done whether they liked it or not. Swordsmachine’s hand came further down, sliding along the rough and scratched up metal until it got to a little compartment, hidden from the outside but well known by them; inside was the button that would force their armor to open and let the components breathe. It always made them feel exposed, vulnerable and helpless to have their armor open, knowing anyone could come and end them rather easily with the clear access to their core functioning systems… Though they admittedly got a kick from it too. The simulated adrenaline coursing through them at the clear danger was almost worse than the overheat, their hand starting to grip onto different wires and pulling them aside to allow the heat to dissipate quicker.
It wouldn’t be the first time that they got carried away with this, even if they would swear this was utterly unpleasant in the terrifying case someone asked, the truth became evident the moment their fingers began more intently rubbing over specific chips and certain wiring below the abdomen. They knew what this would cause and it wouldn’t take long for their body to start whirring and the programmed reaction to happen, their legs spreading to give way to their hip plate’s shifting. Two fluid pipes, blatantly akin to genitalia extended themselves out of their open armor, already leaking bright blue coolant. They were completely laid out there now, hoping nothing would come around the corner and see them, hand wrapped around both pipes and tugging to help the spent coolant out. Swordsmachine’s back arched, low beeps and mechanical grunts leaving their speaker with every movement… But that wasn’t quite enough.
The lack of a second able hand showed itself there when they couldn’t tug at their own wiring while taking care of the quickly intensifying matter – there had to be another way. And another way there was, their shotgun arm moving between their legs and by having them squeeze everything together, every time their hips moved all the plates and parts would be grinding against the weapon and each other. It would have to suffice this time, with Swordsmachine’s limbs twitching and stuttering in their movements; this time from pleasure. Their hand now buried itself between wires and armor, knowing where to touch to make their metabolism speed up and send jolts of energy translated into pleasure right to their core. They were getting far too worked up, mindlessly rutting against themself to try and force the heat out while succumbing to the lust that those actions brought, there was no way that their volume getting higher would keep them safe and hidden if the doors at the other side of the room were to open. What were the chances anyway?
Surely, they were low. But not low enough. Though it took Swordsmachine longer than it should to realize that someone was making their way through the hallways leading to the room they hid away in, mainly because the sound of their own components kicking into maximum gear as the heat kept rising was thrumming through their head and drowning out every other sound around them. Their body had begun writhing in place, back and hips shifting to try and reach every spot that made the simulated adrenaline pump… And the strain became too much to bear. Their core felt like it would explode, the bolts securing their frame together felt like they’d snap under the pressure, the feeling of their entire wire network being set on fire rushed through them like pure destruction; and they needed release. The robot’s legs opened hard enough to clatter loudly against the floor, and the now wet shotgun moved aside to give way to a much stronger grip on their pipes. Their voicebox erupted in borderline pained groans as the heat exhausted itself through those pipes, any remaining coolant inside spilling out in bursts alongside the aggressive jerking of their limbs reacting to the overload in their systems. The heat was out now… Right?
A light mist of steam seeped from within Swordsmachine’s body from the intense heat that had been stored up for so long and suddenly released, them falling limp for a few moments before realizing that something was wrong. Their gut still stirred with a thirst for release that hadn’t been quenched this time around. They had never felt so
unsatisfied
before, even if the heat had been properly exhausted and there was nothing more to do, their wires still ached to be tugged on and their chips to be caressed; it threw them into a slight panic considering the potential implications of this newfound… lust. Still twitching slightly and in the process of regaining full control of their body, the machine tried to stand by turning to the wall and kneeling first, they couldn’t just sit around and give into that further temptation with the situation they were in! With the top edge of their head against the wall and their sight fixated on their own open armor and still extended pipes though, that drive to remain vigilant second-guessed itself. They could afford to go again, no? The entire level seemed empty as ever and it was in their best interest to further descend in absolute peak condition considering the density of the husks in lower sections of it. It really was just the panicked yet needy Swordsmachine trying to convince themself that this was okay.
Regardless of what they rationalized, reality sometimes comes when one needs it to stay away, as right when their able hand returned to mess with their wiring to rile them up again the doors to the room they were in blasted open. The noise was ignored in their head as some odd interference for about one second before it dawned on them that they were no longer alone. The sounds of what seemed to be another machine jumping around the room echoed through the empty space mixed with some stray shots that appeared to be aimed nowhere in particular… It was searching for something, and they hoped it was simply that and not a someone . As much as they tried to repress the feeling that had them like this and urged to get themself together, the much dreaded truth that they could easily be found out brought along a more intense kind of thrill that forced their hand to plunge deeper into the mess of wires at their abdomen and pulled a strained groan along with it too. The other machine stopped moving for a few seconds after that. They really needed to be quiet now. The desperation was taking over them with each harder tug of wires and rub of components – they needed more. So much more. Their hips couldn’t help but idly thrust forward without much end goal other than making the tips of their pipes hit the wall and leave drops of coolant that would slide down later, the movements stuttering since they weren’t used to kneeling like this and much less feeling so utterly helpless for a feeling they rarely chased or even thought about. Maybe lust was a better layer for them to dwell in with this burning need to overwhelm themself, Swordsmachine thought.
The noise around them shifted from one side of the room to another, sometimes interrupted by the occasional shattering of glass from a random bullet or the momentary stop of the machine to consider its actions, what did it even want and why was it taking so long to find it? They cursed upon the being that disturbed their (lack of) peace here but also didn’t wish it to go away, as its presence was what made their systems go into overdrive to finalize this lustful outburst as quickly and explosively as possible. They tried to shut down the noises their voicebox forced out and although it worked for now, they knew well that if they touched a part too sensitive their hidden status would vanish just as quick… So their shotgun arm went up and did its best to cover their speaker. Safety wasn’t assured still, but it would definitely help now that they had gotten tired of waiting and reached down to grab their pipes and was pushing into their tightly closed fist with strong thrusts that made their entire body shake, they could only imagine what it would feel to do this to other beings. That machine roaming around – no. That one was armed and very likely hostile. They were vulnerable and would get killed entirely too fast, but they could think of a million scenarios where they would overpower this unknown entity and pin it down while outright railing it; the deranged thoughts were as much of a first time to Swordsmachine as this behavior and need but it came to them like second nature, and oh did they ached to fulfill those blasphemous wishes.
At that point the covering on their speaker – and the seeker’s tunnel vision on whatever it was looking for – was the only thing separating them from being heard and probably killed on the spot, there was only so much they could do to combat their mechanical form’s reactions to pure pleasure without the overwhelming heat that distracted them from it many times before; they were struggling to properly kneel with how much their legs shook and twitched as they relentlessly thrust into their now slick hand, pipes rubbing against each other and making them lose their mind. It truly was unlike anything they had felt before, and they wondered if the release that slowly built up would arrive before the other machine left the room. Its footsteps approached their location, their immediate reaction being to push harder and harder while trying their best to shut down their noises… then a different sound, somewhat like a chime or bell came from not too far away followed by a jarring slide of metal against metal. And just like that, it was gone, through the same door it came in. They waited for a bit before letting go again just in case it returned but seeing that it had apparently found what it wanted and left, they felt free to release their voicebox from its cover.
Swordsmachine’s voice was ragged and coarse, grunting with intention as their hand began moving in time with the thrusts and their shotgun arm shoved itself in their wires hoping to touch anything that would help them get to that unreachable peak they had been striving for ever since that exhaust however long back, they had no clue how long they had been at this and they couldn’t care less. A bit of scrambling around and the weapon found its target in the form of a sensory input chip that just happened to be managing touch, so their sensations were multiplied tenfold. Their sounds began growing more articulate towards true moaning, not just mindless groans, the only mindless action right now was how violently their body reacted to all the input with it almost throwing itself either back or forward into the wall multiple times. The machine remained relentless. So much so that before they knew it, their inner diagnostics were screaming about an incoming shutdown from excess stimuli that might just force them to fully restart if it boiled over and actually happened. But why would they care? A shutdown was worth it for the kind of bliss they were experiencing, they had risked it all once and they sure as hell were about to do it again in an even worse manner. So they let it continue, the soft tubing poking between the plates that covered their pipes getting deliberately squished by the edges of their fingers as they grew louder and more desperate…
“… Please – ”
A single, true word left their voicebox before their vision went dark, the kind of pleasure rushing through their body was overwhelming and overpowering in a way that forced them to go still due to how hard they were pulsing and jolting; the wall now coated in bright blue and every single wire in their form pumping with simulated adrenaline, a high they might just never reach again. The last thing the robot recognized was another shutdown warning before a restart was issued, them going limp and falling back on the floor with a loud clang.
. . .
Swordsmachine rebooted not too long after. They were fortunately safe and nobody had come in to snatch their weapon – or their parts – while they were restarting. They felt sort of dazed but they were able to stand firm without trembling or stumbling back, a quick look down showed the complete mess that they had made on the floor, wall and even their own yellow metal. Looking back, the room was still very much empty and everything seemed to be exactly where it was before… They had not a single clue about how long they had been out for, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour; surely something would’ve come by and scrapped them for parts if it was longer. Maybe that’s what shocked them most, rather than the blatant fact that a new kind of energy had been ignited inside them out of nowhere and they risked their life pretty badly way before the shutdown by giving into it while another armed machine roamed the room only a few meters away from them. Their vision was still cloudy with static and there wasn’t much around to clean up the mess with so the best thing their still rebooting motherboard thought to do was close themself up and walk over to the nearest corpse to fling it against the wall and conceal the decent quantity of blue with an overwhelming one of red. That would do the trick. It was in their best interest now to flee the scene and potentially even the entire level just to be safe, leaving barely any trace and directing their flashy combat moves towards the souls of Limbo, and so they picked up their trusty sword and began walking out a little slower than usual.
Nothing ever happened in that room. Not as far as everyone who walked in before them knows, not as far as everyone who will walk in after knows. And as for the sudden intruder… They
prayed
this applied to it too.