Earlier that day

Grumbot's POV-

He knew something was up. He also knew what was up. Iskall wasn't one for secrecy. And so He knew that soon enough He'd be out of this large body. He also knew that He wouldn't be having a choice in the matter. But then again, given the choice, He knew that He'd choose this. Being stuck in one position for months gets old after a while. 

So He was hardly upset by this. Well, mostly. He was going to miss communicating with His younger brother, though. Through the electrical bond between the two robots, they could effortlessly communicate. Even if, in reality, it was just a flurry of numbers, Grumbot could hear it as if it were words. The bot had grown accustomed to the nearly constant stream of chatter from Jrumbot, and, if He was being completely honest, He had grown to like the hour-long conversations about pretty much nothing at all. It was hard to believe that they would be over soon. 

Speak of the devil, Jrumbot's childish voice was soon speaking in Grumbot's mind again. It was squeaky and loud, like a five-year-old singing a nonsensical song while pretending to know the words. 

Hey Gwumbot! Gwumbot, hey Gwumbot!

The voice resonated inside Grumbot's mechanical mind. If Grumbot could audibly laugh, He would. Even if the littler robot was annoying at times, Grumbot still adored him. He reached out to the other bot to answer.

Yes, Jrumbot? What is it this time?

He feigned annoyance, which always got a rise out of Jrumbot. Highly entertaining for the older bot. Jrumbot whined slightly.

What? Why awe you so mad? What did I do?

He would miss this, He decided. He'd miss being able to just talk like this. And maybe He wouldn't have to. Maybe in the new body that Iskall was piecing together for Him, He'd still be able to reach out and talk to Jrumbot. One could only hope. He didn't mention any of this to Jrumbot.

I'm not mad, Jrumby. I'm just joking. What did you want to tell me?

As much as He loved messing with the younger bot, He did feel just a touch bad for worrying Him. Darned moral compass. Jrumbot's tone instantly lightened, and He was back to his normal self.

Oh, okay! Well, guess who I saw today!

Grumbot didn't exactly know what He was expecting, but to be honest, this seemed about right. Jrumbot always got excited about little things like seeing someone he hadn't in a while or seeing a pretty bird fly by. He was very easily pleased. 

Who?

Internally raising an eyebrow-- that was something the Hermit's did sometimes, the bot was genuinely interested in who Jrumbot saw. Well, maybe it was mostly because when Jrumbot didn't know someone's name, He'd make up silly descriptions of them. One of his favorites was his description for Jevin, "The blue slimy one that I can almost see through with the white sweatshirt". 

I saw Poppa!

Oh no, who was that again? Grumbot could never remember who Jrumbot was referring to when he spoke about his and Grumbot's dads. Was it Grian? Or Mumbo?

Mumbo. Just the thought of the moustached man made Grumbot sick. Because, as He had quite often told Grian, He had no clue where his dad was. This person walking around, it wasn't Mumbo, no matter how hard it tried to convince the others otherwise. It hadn't even tried to convince Grumbot, just simply showing up one day and offering the robot a chance to join its team. Like He would ever willingly go against his dads and the rest of the Hermits. But that never stopped Sage-- disgusting name, it was like it was trying to mock Mumbo Jumbo by having a name that meant nearly the exact opposite of his-- from coming back time and time again. 

But He could never tell Jrumbot that. It would break his little heart. And Sage wasn't doing anything to harm either of them, so what's the point in worrying the little bot for no reason? Grumbot couldn't bring Himself to tell the younger robot the truth.

Oh? You saw Grian?

No, silwy! I saw Mumbo! 

Of course. But He couldn't help but wonder what the fake Mumbo wanted from Jrumbot. As if like magic, Jrumbot continued, telling Grumbot exactly what He was wondering. That's convenient. 

And he came to bowwow a few of my diamonds and say 'hi'! ...I miss people saying 'hi'... No-one eveh comes and visits me anymowe.

That got surprisingly gloomy for the young bot. He had never mentioned being lonely before. Grumbot felt a pang of guilt. The knowledge that his younger brother would soon most likely be even more lonely pained Grumbot even more. Jrumbot wouldn't have anyone to talk to once Grumbot got disconnected. The poor child. 

Grumbot should probably tell his brother about what would happen soon, shouldn't He? Probably. The bot realized that He had been silent for a hot second and quickly began, 

I'm sorry, Jrumb-

But Jrumbot cut Him off, his tone shifting back to happy-go-lucky, as usual. It was as if a switch was licked, and the melancholy voice of before was turned off and replaced by a bubbly one instead. 

No wowwy, Gwummy! You talk to me, and das okay! 

Oh, no. 

Grumbot chuckled nervously. Now would be as good a time as any, would it not? But as the bot tried to reach out to the younger and share his news, He couldn't seem to find the words, nor the heart. And it seemed He wouldn't have much time to do so, as another Hermit came flying in. 

Grumbot recognized him. It was Scar, the wizard. He was the one Iskall was enlisting to help with Grumbot's new vessel. He was also a former competitor in the mayoral race when that was still going on. The bot had since forgiven him for going against his father, of course. He wasn't cruel, and Scar was actually a fun Hermit, all mayoral things aside. 

And if he was here, that meant that Grumbot's body was nearly complete. As Grumbot stood, facing forward, He heard voices from behind Him. The voices were too muffled for the bot to make out. But soon enough, He heard something that sounded like 'One way to find out'. It must be time.

Grumbot immediately felt a sense of something He rarely felt. Dread. He found Himself dreading this. Not because He was worried it wouldn't work. Because He was dreading the change. This was all He ever knew, this solitary state. The thought of changing that sent an unwelcome fear through Him. And then there was Jrumbot. He was dreading leaving the smaller robot. 

Jrumbot...

Grumbot immediately knew what He wanted to say.

Jrumbot, I don't have much time, and I want t-

But He didn't have enough time to say it. Because He felt something shift. It was a feeling He didn't know how to describe. It was like when He overheated, but it didn't burn. It was almost comfortable. It was almost nice. And He felt this, and soon He began to feel only this. He was floating. His surroundings, the platform He stood on, dimmed until nothing was there at all other than a black blanket covering His vision. And the voice He had grown so used to, Jrumbot's, began to drift off.

Gwummy? Gwumbot? What's wwong? 

Like He was leaving.

Gwumbot, did I say somefing wwong? Awe you mad at me? 

And it was like Grumbot was far underwater, and Jrumbot's voice was far, far away, above the surface. 

Gwumbot, I'm sowwy I don't know what I did but I'm sowwy just say somefing please Gwummy just teww me what's wwong!

And then it was silent. Grumbot couldn't feel anything. He couldn't hear anything. He couldn't see anything. Even His own thoughts were dulled and distant. Everything was slow. Was this what death felt like? Hm.

But no. Something somewhere started moving. He could feel it. He wasn't sure where He could feel it, he didn't seem to have a concrete body to pinpoint where the sensation was from. It was just there. It wasn't pleasant, nor unpleasant. It wasn't welcome or unwelcome. It just was. But then it spread. It wormed its way, covering Grumbot, its intensity only growing by the moment. It was like a buzzing, a sizzling. But it didn't hurt, no, it didn't. It almost felt nice.

And then.... light. And so much of it. It flooded Grumbot's vision. Just pure white, blinding light. Soaking Grumbot in a firey sight. But ever so slowly, it faded away, and Grumbot could take in His surroundings. 

Everything seemed so much bigger than he remembered. The Hermits He so often looked down upon now stood level with Him. He glanced up to see the back of His body, His huge, ginormous, old body. Wow, from down here it was so large, so imposing. Was that really what He looked like? And he could see the Hermits so clearly now. He could clearly see Iskall's cyborg-esque eye, and Scar's starred hat. He could see the plates of metal that formed the machine. And He could see Himself. 

Grumbot Himself was a marvel. He now had four limbs-- two arms and two legs. And He could move all of them. This new body seemed to be made of the same material as His old one. No wonder He hardly felt different, all things aside. On His chest was a screen. A pink crystal glowed, and what looked to be something of a heart monitor was visible. Incredible. On His back was a series of wires connecting Him to His body. What were those for? He wasn't sure, but He didn't attempt to move anywhere, for fear of snapping one and causing something to happen to Him. Something about having a body made the robot feel so good inside. It made Him feel closer to the Hermits, no longer like an outcast. He was content.

He could hear as well. Iskall and Scar were fawning over the fact that this was a success. It was nice to have that. But there was something-- or rather, the absence of something-- that felt odd and unnatural. It was the lack of Jrumbot in his mind. He had grown accustomed to the little kid never leaving Him alone. 

He missed Jrumbot.

Grumbot tried to push that out of His mind as Iskall turned to Him. "Hallo, Grumbot. How are you feeling?"

Ah, this was a familiar feeling. Like a jolt in the back of his head. A question. Something in the back of His mechanical mind clicked. He would answer now. But this time, He didn't have a paper to throw out. No, He had a voice. And somehow, He already knew how to use it. "Disorientated, but overall alright."

That was loud. It seemed that Grumbot hadn't yet gotten out of His old habits of screaming everything. Why did He do that? He had no idea. Perhaps it had to do with the way He was coded. Whatever it was, it was annoying. At least it sounded alright. 

Pretty soon, Grumbot had His wires off. He could actually move, and He soon realized that legs were hard to handle. The Hermits made it look so easy, just flaunting around on their legs, and Grumbot was struggling to even stay up. He began to move His legs around.

Seeing all of this, moving His legs, moving His arms, moving His head, everything suddenly felt so... real. It was no longer a thought, a future. No, this was now. And Grumbot was.... well, He wasn't sure how He felt about it. It was bittersweet. The large body was all He ever knew. It was so sudden. But the bot was thankful for Iskall and Scar. He turned back to the two and... and... 

What was going on? He tried to thank them, to say something. He knew how to speak. He just did it a moment ago! The answer soon dawned on Him. He had never been able to speak freely, had He? He was always just an answering bot. He could only ever communicate with the Hermits when He was asked a question. Nothing was different now. That was very disappointing, but what could He do? At least He could move. Yeah, at least He could move. If anything, He had that.

He hadn't truly been paying attention to the Hermits; He was mostly just exploring what his new body could do. But when He felt a jolt, He perked up. Iskall was asking Him if He was alright.

He was, right? Yeah. As far as He knew, He was pretty fine. "Yeah," He answered. His voice was still strained, still yelling. He really had to work on that. The bot finished with a question of His own. "Why?"

The swede was obviously taken aback by this, and to be honest, Grumbot couldn't blame him. He explained quickly, "You just aren't talking much, and I was, er, concerned."

Right. Of course that was it. Grumbot shrugged. It wasn't like He could say anything in response. The bot folded his arms as Iskall narrowed his eyes slightly at Him, scrutinizing Him. He seemed utterly confused. Grumbot wished He could help, He did. But no, it was just like before; Grumbot could just watch helplessly unless specifically asked something. It was a lot more annoying when He thought of it like that.

After a moment, the bot glanced away, off into the ocean. That was nice. Grumbot had never quite gotten a chance to see the ocean, despite being stationed on it for so long. So many sunsets had passed behind Him, yet He couldn't see a singular one. He liked sunsets, the sky turning orange and pink, then purple, then black. Maybe He'd get a chance to actually witness the action soon. 

Jerking him out of His thoughts was Iskall, calling His name. Grumbot looked over at Iskall, who seemed like he just figured out something huge. He spoke slowly. "You can't talk unless you're asked a question... can you?" 

A jolt. Aha, there it was. "Nope. Same as always."

"Oh." He was clearly disappointed. Scar also was disappointed, but he seemed much less surprised than Iskall had. 

Shaking his head, the wizard turned to Iskall. "I don't suppose there's any way to fix that," he said offhandedly. Iskall shook his head. If Grumbot could sigh, He would do so. So He was stuck like this forever. Hooray. 

"Well, we'll find a way to work around it," Iskall claimed definitively.  He stood up straighter and turned to Grumbot. It was like this was some sort of challenge. 'Can Iskall and Grumbot work together without simple communication skills?' Probably not, as Iskall had seemingly forgot about Grumbot's inability to agree before quickly saying, "Right, Grum?"

Having pupils would be very useful in that moment. "Hopefully." His voice was still yelly, but not as bad as it had been before. He almost tried to thank the Hermit again. It seemed Grumbot Himself forgot too. Woops. Without another moment's thought, Grumbot walked forward and gave Iskall a hug. If only He had a mouth to smile with.

He stepped back and turned to Scar... or the absence of Scar, that is. Where did he go? He was just here a moment ago, right? Grumbot would have to find him later to thank him. Come to think of it, Scar had seemed a bit... distant. The bot frowned internally. Was something up with the wizard? Hm.

He was jolted out of His thoughts by a literal jolt from Iskall asking a question. "So what do you think about saying hi to Grian?"

Grumbot had hardly thought about Grian and Mumbo; they had slipped His mind entirely. The prospect of seeing Grian now, in His new body, both excited and unnerved Him. What if Grian didn't like it? Surely he would-- he was Grumbot's dad, he'd like Grumbot however he looked like. Right?

He tempered down his thoughts. "Yeah," he answered, in almost a normal voice. "I'd like that."

Iskall grinned and pulled up his wrist. A silver band was strapped to it, looking almost like a bracelet. To Grumbot's amazement, the swede tapped it and a screen fizzled into existence. The screen showed a bunch of words from different Hermits. Grumbot wasn't the best at reading backwards, but He saw what seemed to be a conversation between Iskall and Scar. He watched as Iskall typed out a message to his dad. 

.uoy wohs ot gnihtemos evah I ?mroftalp s'tobmurG ot emoc ,nairG yeH <58llaksI>

Iskall kept his gaze trained expectantly on the device, but the message just sat there. Nothing else happened. "He should respond in a few minutes," the swede said with a shrug. Grumbot nodded. He had to admit, He was slightly concerned. The last time He and Grian had spoken, it didn't end on the most positive note. The bot shuddered at the memory of it. What if Grian didn't want to speak with Him? He hoped nothing had happened to His dad. 

He was being overdramatic about this all, no doubt. The bot just taking a minute or two of no response from His dad way too seriously. He had to be. 

"Would you like to see Mumbo instead?" Iskall offered with a smile that was just a bit too stretched.

Of course Grumbot wanted to see Mumbo. But He wanted to see Mumbo, not the person Iskall was surely referencing. And by the way Iskall spoke, it seemed he wasn't really intent on doing so either. Interesting. He couldn't possibly know anything, right? "Not particularly," the robot answered honestly. It seemed Iskall was hoping this would be the answer, as a small, almost relieved, smile formed on his face.

"Is there anything you want to do?" Iskall asked after sneaking a glance at his device, which hadn't yet changed. 

Grumbot immediately knew what He wanted to do. "I want to go to Jrumbot's shop." Even if He couldn't speak with the little bot anymore, the least He could do was go visit and reassure Jrum that He was okay. 

One small issue. Grumbot had no clue how to work the elytra wings. And He wasn't too thrilled with the prospect of finding out what should happen if He, a robot, should fall into water. Or crash. Or anything bad, really. After a moment of thought, Iskall came up with a grand idea. It's called a boat. Until Grumbot could learn how to use an elytra, He'd do this bit on a boat. He'd learn how to fly soon enough. 

Eventually, Grumbot was standing just outside of Jrumbot's shop, with Iskall having wandered off to check out some shops. He stared up at His brother's machine and gave a little wave. If Grumbot didn't know what He was looking for, He might've missed the flicker on Jrumbot's screen. Grumbot couldn't say anything. He couldn't reach out and communicate to Jrumbot. He couldn't smile or grin or hug His brother. He just stood on the path, staring up at the bot's screen, hoping that He could convey everything without all of that.

-(Author's Rambling)-

I'm not getting emotional over fictional robots, you are!

BAH. I've got no witty remarks this time. Thanks for coming, and I'll see you next time, my little Readers.

Promise out!