The Typical Tuesday of Monster Hunters

The sky was a sickly shade of green and the air was hazy and thick, a sign of the brewing storm. Storms in the wastes were deadly; the rain was nearly acidic and the lightning was a promise of more radiation. It was the last thing Constantine and Viktor needed. While Constantine was immune to the radiated dangers the roads offered, Viktor was not, and letting him die of radiation poisoning wasn't on the agenda. Not to mention the sentient threats; like raiders and ghouls, who were only more common the further they got into the decimated city. 

At the moment they stood in the road, occupied by broken down cars and the corpses of those that attacked when they arrived. Constantine looked around for a moment, before nudging Viktor with his shotgun. 

"There's an old store there. We can stop there for the night and wait out the storm. There might be supplies left." 

"The settlement is only a few miles away, we'll be there by midnight if we move."

Constantine frowns, gesturing at the sky and beginning toward the old shop, "Oh, I suppose you want us to find out what acid does to human skin? Get inside, asshole. Fathers sake, you're insufferable." 

"The damn storm is miles away, Constantine, we can make it before the first-" Lightning. "-Strike."

The irony elicits laughter from the android, who opens the door to the crumbling building and holds it open for his travelling companion. The second strike is what sends Viktor into the building, Constantine close behind.

"Looks like Apollos dodgeball of prophecy didn't manage to evade you."

The synth scoffs and shuts the door behind them, "Gee, thanks for that, Vik."

Viktor went through the building, making sure it was clear of ghouls or scavengers that might try to kill the two while they slept. Meanwhile, Constantine set up camp for the night. He unrolled Viktors sleeping bag and laid it behind the counter, where it couldn't be seen through the windows, just in case there were others like them nearby. He left his own untouched and got to clearing the shelves of any canned food and ammunition that was still left. He managed to find a few cans of beans and meat, and…mushrooms. He couldn’t remember why, but he always hated mushrooms; even though he couldn’t taste them. Constantine always assumed that he was just programmed to have specific tastes; it wouldn’t be too surprising for Elias to give him a random quirk like that. 

Fuck, he’d almost forgotten about Elias. Constantine would have to go back soon to report his findings on the wastelands, and something told him Viktor wouldn’t be too keen on going with him to the place that was the subject of rumours in every settlement. People were always so on edge when Constantine came around. Androids weren’t allowed in certain settlements, for fear of their families being taken and replaced. But that simply isn’t what happens. Constantine used to help Elias work, before his programming kicked in, and all the people they ‘replaced’ were already dead. The Institution was doing people favours by giving their memories to perfect machines. Constantine and Leo were the first, and they worked wonderfully! So wonderfully, in fact, that Elias made the others more like them. Sentient spies, capable of freedom, but that didn’t mean that they wanted it. 

Even Constantine, the most problematic subject of Elias’ creations, had grown to appreciate their little family. That was one of the perks of sentience, he learned how to understand what family was. He believed that Elias was his equivalent to a father. He didn’t have a mother. Constantine imagined himself lucky. The detective he was made after didn’t have a good relationship with his family. But with the Institution, there was a mutual understanding. Even with the merc who shot his arm off when he ran away. They actually had a relatively pleasant conversation after that incident. After that he and Elias made a negotiation on his terms of existence. Freedom in exchange for reports on whatever Constantine discovered in the wastes, whether abomination or a new emotion for Elias to programme. And so here he was, with the easiest person to observe and his…friend. A new term. He felt happy, and that was a new term for him too. But unlike anger or sadness--both of which made his eyes do something unexpected and terrible--this was a good thing, and it made him proud to be so flawed.

“Constantine?”

Constantine is dragged away from his thoughts, and he’s quick to poke his head over the shelf he was scavenging around. 

“Si?”

“Where the fucks your sleeping bag?”

He shrugs, “Put away. I’ll take the shift tonight. It’s not a big deal.”

“You’ve taken shifts the past three nights, tinhead.”

“Yeah,” Constantine makes stiff gestures with his hands as he talks, “I’m also a robot who doesn’t actually need his beauty sleep. You, on the other hand, are going to start seeing doubles if you keep up like this. Go to sleep.”

Viktor scoffs and disappears behind the counter, “Fine. Keep the clanking to the minimum, Bolts.”

“You bet.”

Viktor laid down to rest after a few minutes of shuffling around behind the counter. He always slept on top of his sleeping bag, never in it, and he kept his gun right beside him. It was a safety precaution, if you could even call it that. Even with the building cleared out from the inside, there was no guaranteeing what could be lurking outside. Even after he laid down, Viktor didn't sleep for a long while. Constantine spent the last few nights on shift and took a lot of notice to his companions breathing and vitals. They were always calmer when he was asleep, as if that was the only time that Viktor wasn't on edge, which really wasn't much of a surprise.

This man was able to survive the apocalypse, which means he's seen some fucked up shit. Constantine couldn't hold it against him, he'd only been out and about for a year now, and there was no lack of surprises every day.

Constantine sat leaned against a shelf near the front window, shotgun pointed at the door so he could fire as soon as it opened. The only light in the room was the faint glow of green that came from Constantine's eyes. Occasionally a figure would shift outside the building, and he would stiffen, prepared to fire the first shot of the night. The chance never came, however, and the night passed relatively peacefully, and nothing outside had spotted them. Eventually the sun began to rise and the two got back on the road.