Purgatory?
They had to crawl on their hands and knees to get there, passing over mashy spike plates (Wheatley apologized profusely) and through a shower of diluted acid that left them tingly and their clothes slightly worse for wear, but in the end they found themselves standing in the entrance to Android Purgatory.
“It’s, ‘ah, different,” Wheatley said, rubbing ineffectively at his glasses with a half-dissolved tie.
“Well, seeing cores on the stripper poles is a bit unexpected,” Trix said, studying the room, “but otherwise it looks like any other bar.”
The lighting was mostly red and purple and they were the only two obviously human figures she could see. There were a few androids, some turrets, a handful of cores she didn’t recognize, and even one of the Unfriendly Companion Cubes. Wheatley, she noticed, was averting his gaze from the strip show and his cheeks looked a lot darker than they should have been.
On stage, a core with a pale green optic flicked up one of her panels and waggled her handlebar at him. Trix elbowed him, grinning.
“I think she likes you. Or he does.”
Muttering, he ducked his head and followed her over to the bar where one of the defective turrets was mixing drinks with the help of some retractable claws. The Redemption Line was the special of the night, so she ordered two and sat back to watch the rest of the show. The duet by the frankenturret was her favorite, although she noticed it made Wheatley tear up. She slung an arm over his shoulders and kissed his cheek.
“Cheer up,” she said. “They seem happy here. They all seem pretty happy, and for a place called Purgatory, this is a pretty damn sweet setup. Maybe we’ll come back again some time.”
“S-sure, luv, that’d be nice.” Wheatley offered her a wobbly smile and gulped down his second- fourth?- Redemption Line. He knew she was right, but part of him couldn’t help wondering what if...
