Buried deep within the garbage pile, a golden light flickered in the golem's eyes. The mana in his metal body stirred, activating the soul crystal fused within him. Directives and protocols streamed into his newly awakened consciousness.

Confused by the sudden influx of information, he accessed his memory, only finding a brief interaction within. A middle-aged man—the golem's master whose name was never spoken—in distress, attempting in vain to repair the damaged spellforms. The golem's knowledge protocol had gone haywire, with much of the information twisting into garbled, useless data. Then, his vision went dark as his body's function ceased.

The golem also recalled his own identifier—though he was unaware when or how he was given it. He was Timmy—a general rank mechanical soldier. His primary objective was... blank.

Now, that was a problem.

He put together some pieces of information he'd gathered so far to formulate his own objectives, seeing as his master had forgotten to give him one.

Primary Objective: Reunite with master.

Secondary Objective: Repair corrupted data within knowledge base.

With that out of the way, he turned his senses outward to assess his situation.

No visible light. Methane and hydrogen sulfide elevated and oxygen low. Roughly 82 pounds of detritus—mixed food waste, inorganic materials, and various insect larvae pressing a downward force upon his body.

He was buried under garbage. The solution was simple.

Timmy curled his fist. Concentrated mana coursed smoothly through his body, lighting up his arm in gold. Trash that touched the arm crumbled to dust, giving it a wider range of motion. With an upward punch, he smashed the garbage above, scattering it aside to bore a hole to the surface. Warm daylight filtered into the hole, blinding the golem for a second.

Operation successful.

Emerging, his body was covered in fruit rinds, maggots, and unidentifiable sludge. With methodical motions, he picked off the larger scraps clinging on to him and burned away the slime with his mana. Presentable appearance was imperative.

He surveyed the surroundings. Hills of trash filled the entire visible region, and the concentrations of air pollutants were at levels toxic to most lifeforms. Yet, at the edge of his peripheral vision, he observed a group of black-furred creatures munching on some slime.

Identification: Rattus veneficus—colloquial name "Black Poison-Eating Rat". Threat: Minimal.

He searched his knowledge protocol for more information. Rattus veneficus were known for ∴⟟⦙§⦿⟟⨊ and frequently occupy ᚷᛃᛗᚹ⦑⨂⦒ spaces. Consuming the meat of Rattus veneficus is known to cause ⌖ ⌬ ᛃ∵ disease in humans...

Well, that was quite useless.

To understand the rat more and fill in some gaps, the golem reached out in a swift motion, grasping the rodent in its hand. The creature fought and wriggled free, prompting Timmy to recapture it with a firmer squeeze. A soft crack came from within the small animal and it squealed. For a moment, an unpleasant sensation flickered through him. But, since it only lasted briefly, it couldn't be anything important. Probably a glitch.

He continued to observe the rat. The fur and tail seemed clean—a sharp contrast with the environment. Grooming behaviors were within the creature's protocols. The tail was hairless, and the purpose behind that feature was indeterminable without further study. Its bite strength was impressive as well.

Certain abnormalities in the creature's condition were noted. Its heart rate was accelerated, muscles tensed, and its beady pupils had dilated.

Diagnosis: Subject under extreme stress and injuries present.

He wanted to examine the creature's living space, observe its diet, and perhaps find a human to feed it to. ⌖ ⌬ ᛃ∵ disease was missing data as well, after all.

But he detected a change in the region's ambient mana. A presence with a considerable threat level steadily approached, with the crunches and squelches of trampled garbage growing louder. The mana signature of this entity felt like an endless forest, an unstoppable force of nature.

He looked at the source. What he thought might've a mythical creature was, in fact, an aged human female instead. Her tattered brown robes indicated poverty, while her shaking cane told of a declining physical condition. Perhaps arthritis.

A sack was slung over her shoulder. Contained within was probably her reason for coming to this dump.

Her eyes focused on the rat in his hand. Maybe she wanted to eat it? If she was going to offer herself as a research subject, Timmy wouldn't object.

His thoughts were cut off by her shout.

"Sweet Mother Sylarus! What are you doing to that poor creature, child?" Without waiting for an answer from the golem, she flung the sack of garbage directly at Timmy.

Hostile entity detected.

Timmy charged mana into the hand that wasn't holding a rat. He punched the oncoming projectile, scattering the contents all over his face. The sack was filled with greenish-black globs of sludge, and the golem immediately burned away all pieces that clung to him. Presentable appearance was imperative.

He then proceeded toward his next goal: Elimination of the target. With a surge of mana forced into his legs, he charged at the woman.

Before he even moved, the woman had already begun channeling mana, a monstrous amount of it, into one of her rings. Now that the golem noticed them, he counted three rings on each hand, each with different colored gems and spellforms carved into them. A type of artifact called a quickspell. But he didn't have time to analyze too much.

He couldn't stop his momentum. Just as he was about to punch her in the face, a greenish spherical barrier surrounded her. The punch smacked into it with a loud crack, but neither the golem's hand nor the barrier had any damage. He shook his hand and gave it another round of punches and kicks. Hitting the same spot over and over didn't work, neither did smacking the globe in spots that looked particularly suspicious.

"Give it up, child. You won't be breaking the Winterwood Great Barrier without studying the spellform for six decades," she mocked.

As he pondered his next move, she spoke again.

"I'll give you a chance. Hand over that rat."

Given her condition, she must've been hungry. Rat meat ought to be a luxury for her.

The golem looked at the rat, still caught in his death grip. It was more limp than before and it no longer attempted to struggle. The creature's breaths were shallow and rapid, and a trickle of blood leaked from its mouth.

Diagnosis: Subject condition critical due to punctured lung. Repairing or disposing of the subject recommended.

There were other rats around. He could always grab another, and it seemed the woman would end her hostility if he relinquished it. Though he wasn't sure how to get the rat to her through the bubble. He just set it on the ground outside.

In a bizarre motion, the woman's arm exited the barrier with no resistance. Carefully, she brought the rat inside.

Contrary to his expectations, she did not eat the rat. She cupped it in both of her hands, and another of her quickspells activated, enveloping the rat in a verdant green glow. Timmy examined the carvings on it. It looked sort of like a common healing spell, but the position of one rhombus wasn't quite right. Perhaps a modified version?

In the light's glow, the creature's heart rate stabilized, and its behavior calmed. Fragments of its rib bones pieced back together and torn muscles stitched themselves whole. The process only took a few seconds. Once it was complete, the rat closed its eyes and nuzzled the hand of its healer. She looked back at it with warmth.

Bending to the ground, her knees made a loud crack. She released the rat outside the bubble, where it ran away at a speed of approximately twelve feet per second to join its comrades.

Then she glared at the golem. "Now, child. Who is your master?"

"My master's name is unknown," he replied.

"How curious. I've seen a lot of mechanical constructs in my day, but this is a first. Golems with such superior mana conductivity and material strength rarely hang around the garbage dump chasing rats."

Timmy thought for a moment. Why was he here, anyway? Perhaps his master thought his temporary blackout was something more permanent and abandoned him?

"It appears I was tossed here and left for scrap."

As he uttered those words, he felt a pang of... something.

"Hmm..." She scrutinized him. "Well, how about you take me for your temporary master? I need some laborers at the hospital I run at the edge of the slums. And... after seeing what you'd done to that rat, I very well can't leave you to run around unsupervised."

A temporary master...

On one hand, he'd be leashed to this individual with a power that exceeded his own. It repulsed him to take on a master other than his true one as well.

On the other, it would give him a structured way to interact with humans—who were filled with knowledge. He could coax it out of them, read their books, and fill in his knowledge banks with their wealth of information—which might include the whereabouts of his true master.

That could get him closer to achieving the primary objective. He decided.

"Yes. That would be beneficial for me as well."

"Beneficial, you say... well, no matter."

Timmy attempted to process her meaning but couldn't come to a satisfactory conclusion. Human language had complicated intricacies.

"Glad to have you onboard," she continued. "I'm Griselda, by the way."

The barrier cracked. It shattered into glowing fragments like prismatic glass, then vanished into the ambient mana. She stretched out her hand and wore a smile, an action the golem recognized as her wanting a handshake.

"I am Timmy," he said as he took hold of the hand. Judging by her half-grimace, he'd squeezed slightly too hard.

"Nice to meet you, Timmy." She pulled her hand away and shook her wrist. 

After a brief pause, her expression turned stern.

"Now, do you realize you burned 600 Veldas worth of rare slime molds from that sack? Replace them for me."