They should've been safe so… why did he still feel so afraid?

From the moment Peter had stepped forward before the device which had taken his soul to transfer it into the ragdoll body of a Stitchpunk, the world had forever changed. Some of it was for the better: Other changes he was uncertain of. No longer were he and his siblings hunted as they had been by the existing machines that had survived the war, but being in a cloth and mechanical shell rather than one of flesh and bone constantly ate away at him. It didn't feel right, even if he was still himself by the end of the day.

However, he couldn't say that he bore any regrets—or at least, not for becoming like this. He had overheard his sister, Sarah, and the Stitchpunks that had become their adopted family talking about what would happen to them. Transferring their souls had been the only thing they could do to save themselves in order to escape the machines after his blunder of sneaking away from the safety of their refuge behind Sarah's back. His desire to proof himself, his getting caught outside after curfew, and her having to rescue him were what had shaped their destruction as human beings. He had been reckless, and in order to live they were human no more.

Hardly a day after they had become as they were, the machines had torn apart the city looking for them. But they had been looking for four human children, not four doll-like beings. Nevertheless, they had stayed hidden for the longest time, and only once the machines had thinned out and gone elsewhere did they risk stepping out into the ruins of the city their guardians called the 'Emptiness' once more. Granted, the occasional machine still managed to pass through, but they were easier to deal with.

Which brought him to the only other true silver-lining of their fate: Despite how he had ruined their lives, for the first time in forever, he was finally getting close to his elder sister again. When the war first began, their parents had tried to remain positive and care for them all to the best of their abilities; however, it soon became clear that he and Sarah couldn't stay children any longer. They had taken on greater responsibilities by cooking, crafting, and caring for their two little sisters—and they had done it together. Then it became clear to him that they had favored Sarah as the eldest to step in in their place, and when they left she had taken both the power and the burden of leading the four of them. She had never let him help her to find supplies and take on half of the risks: She had hardly even let him leave their shelter. They had fought and argued constantly, until he just couldn't take it.

Peter supposed that he had proven Sarah right and that he hadn't been ready for the dangers she faced, but now that they were Stitchpunks that had slowly begun to mend their broken relationship. She invited him to scout and scavenge with their. They tried playing the same games they used to play before the war. They worked and raised their two younger siblings together. He didn't know whether or not she could forgive him—and he didn't forgive himself—but it was a start at least.

And the other Stitchpunks—the first nine—truly had become a sort of family to them. He and Sarah both knew that a good few of them still held some prejudice over their having been human, but it was also clear that they cared about them. The only thing he didn't necessarily like was that most of them had taken to calling them by numbers rather than their names: He often found himself going by 'Ten,' Rosie 'Eleven,' Peggie 'Twelve,' and Sarah 'Thirteen' in accordance with who's soul was transferred before the others. It felt like rubbing salt in a still festering wound to him, but he kept quiet about it. Maybe they meant it as a way of making him and his sisters feel like they belonged…

Peter felt the back of a hand strike him at the shoulder, shocking him out of his musings as he watched Sarah jog past him. "Better hurry up!" she ordered, and he picked up the pace in turn. She was right: He could hear the mechanical whirs of a machine behind them.

As Stitchpunks, whenever they were spotted by a machine the mechanical beasts showed one of two reactions: Either they took on the nature of a predator finding a new species of game for the first time or else they held them in confused intrigue. It made sense, seeing as they had the bipedal form and nature of humans but all the same were clearly not. In the end, if they didn't dart out of view quickly, the machines would give chase. As was the case now, except that lately it had become intentional of their part.

Over the course of several weeks, he and Sarah had plotted a short route near the city limits leading to the edge of the wide chasm near the railway. They had spent days on end moving debris to create a path that gave their pursuers no choice but to follow them when they used themselves as bait—and thanks to the sheer mass of debris, it was a well-hidden one. It narrowed so subtly that a person or machine could follow it on an unconscious level, but by the time one reached the end they were trapped by the camouflaged walls.

The Scavenger that now tailed them rolled into view behind a rusted, broken-down truck when Peter looked over his shoulder. It paused for only a moment to gather their whereabouts before speeding after them yet again. Even as humans, they had no chance of outrunning one: If they didn't veer off course in seconds, it would be upon them.

Fortunately, they didn't need but a couple. As they reached the edge of the cavern, both he and Sarah veered to the right and barely a meter from its large drop—ducking behind the piles of rubble with only a length of a thick telephone wire to connect the one alongside them to the one on their left. They moved readily, taking hold of the wide, makeshift crank attached to the spool and line and wound it up as tightly as it could go from where the end was fastened to a deeply buried chunk of cement within the rubble.

The Scavenger had no time to react to the sudden obstacle. Unable to calculate for the change, it couldn't stop itself from rolling into the wire—the raised platings on its form catching upon the line and causing it to falter right over the lip of the chasm. As part of the wire was dragged down with the machine, the crank reacted by snapping in place and knocking both brother and sister back while it rapidly spun in the opposite direction. Sarah and Peter collapses to the ground from the force behind it, hearing the unearthly screes of their unnatural enemy before it was silenced by the rocks below.

After catching their breath, the pair looked over the edge to see what they had come to expect from the repeated scenario. For all of a Scavenger's defenses, it still wasn't built for combat and in no way to handle that sort of fall. Sometimes whatever remained of a damaged one would try to crawl away until the red lights of its eyes blinked out and it went still, but this was one of those times when the landing had finished it off instantly. The Scavenger lay as a cracked husk below, nearly split in half from catching on the rocks by its underbelly with the spoils of its rummaging through the Emptiness partially spilling out of it. They had yet to see one survive the fall, but even if one happened to it had no chance of crawling back out.

Sarah gave a little cheer, pushing herself from the earth and brushing the dust off of her fabric skin before heading back to the crank to rewind the excess wire and reset their trap. Peter stood by as the coil dragged along the ground, aiding it back to the flat surface whenever it tried to snag along the way. "Are we going down there?" he asked when their task was nearly complete.

One of the earliest projects they had taken on—along with Five and Two—had been creating a pulley system that lead down into the cavern. Whether they were the remaining supplies from the factory or were various bits and bobbles washed downstream, the cavern held plenty of materials and trinkets ripe for the taking. Further exploration had even revealed a few connected train compartments further along its path. They weren't actually supposed to come here alone since the way was so dangerous—and undoubtedly they would be punished for putting themselves at graver risk by luring machines if any of their adult figures ever caught wind of it—but often the Scavengers also gathered a hearty collection of finds within the ruins which they would in turn swipe from the destroyed machines.

But Sarah shook her head, motioning to the slightly bulged pocket stitched along her right leg. "We've got enough for today and it's getting late. We better get the rest of our finds and head back to the library before the others send out a search party for us."

He gave a small chuckle at that. It was nice to have somebody waiting for you when you got home—if it was alright to call the library that. It was strange to think about it that way, but at least it felt more like home than their shelter outside of the city had. Every day since the war had once gone by spent feeling trapped in a place where really all they could do was eat, sleep, and wait for something to happen on a radio that never played more than a repeated call before dying. Now they had things to look forward to when coming home, and people to care for them as their parents once had. They had made friends with Five, Six, and the twins when they had once thought they never would've had friends outside of each other again.

The toy dump truck they used for carrying the bulk of their finds was wheeled out from its hiding place within a nearby alley—pulled forward by one of them with a cord of twine as the other pushed behind it. Though they still had plenty of parts left to them by the Scientist, one of the projects Two and Five had begun to take on was following the fallen man's blueprints in attempts to build parts themselves should the day ever come when they needed them. And while they tinkered and welded, Sarah and Peter had taken it upon themselves to find possible materials. It gave purpose to their daily, little adventures—and it mostly certainly won over the schooling One attempted to pile them with…

The way back to the library may have been uneventful, but they never got tired of seeing the tiny, warm light that often awaited them when they arrived at near-dark. It was Nine, standing outside with his light staff in his hands as he waited for them to come home. The welcomed sight beckoned them to move faster and they raced with their treasures through the courtyard to the wide arch of the building's entrance.

"You two look like you had a busy day," the leader commented with a grin as they came to a stop before him.

"It's a great haul," Sarah replied, beaming proudly and patting the side of the toy truck. "This should keep us stocks on metals for a while."

Peter could only offer a nod of agreement. Though months had passed, Peter wasn't quite as comfortable talking to the other Stitchpunks as she and his other two sisters were. Peggie and Rosie loved playing with the twins, and Sarah seemed to get along well with everyone—especially Five and Six—but as for him, Two was the only one he really felt close to. It's not like he had made a good first impression with the rest of them.

"You both left pretty early this morning though. You've been gone all day." Nine leaned his staff upon a nearby pillar to pet the two children on the head as a father might. "How about staying in tomorrow? Three and Four found some new books and Two's been hoping to give all of us another check-up soon."

Two's check-ups had first been routine when the four former humans awoke in their new bodies: Having been made in a hurry, there was always a concern of one part or another failing. He didn't fret as much as he used to, but it was always good to keep tabs on everyone's health anyway, so every month or so he'd have another look at their inner workings.

The storybooks Sarah had once abandoned as useless trifles invigorated her spirit once again with what extra time she now had to read them. She didn't have to play the adult as much anymore, and was free to indulge in fiction to her heart's content. The smile that pulled at her mouth was genuine, and any plans for what might've been another adventure to the 'Emptiness' the following day were tossed aside at the idea of spending her time with the characters of a good novel. Peter, however, had no idea how he'd spend his free-time, except by maybe trying to help Two and Five with their work. He was learning how to tinker like they could anyway.

Once the toy truck was moved beneath the cover of the awning, Nine recovered his staff and gently guided the pair into the library. Home.