Crinomatic.
The device suddenly opened, like a compact mirror, and a bright white light shone out from within. The light completely surrounded Key, reminding her of the way the light from the Hand of DIOS had shone from between Mr. Fuddlebee’s fingers and surrounded her on her ninth birthday. If anyone in the dungeon could have seen Key at that moment, the light now radiating out from the open Crinomatic would have blinded them briefly. Not even Key could escape this temporary blindness, although the light did allow her to watch while her clothes marvelously changed.
She was enthralled watching her old birthday dress suddenly scatter in a swirl of ashes, right before it was funneled directly into the Crinomatic. Next, out from the small device came teeny-tiny robotic creatures, each one as small as a drop of mist. Key’s very acute vampire sight observed that they bore a striking resemblance to tiny black widow spiders. She knew that normal black widows have a red hourglass shape on their backs, but these robotic spiders had instead only one word, which was much, much smaller than the spiders, so much smaller in fact that she had to narrow her eyes just to read it.
“Gossamingles,” she read aloud.
She understood then that Gossamingles must be what these tiny robotic spiders were called. And as Key tried to study them a little more closely, one soared right past her nose, and she happened to read more words underneath its black abdomen: The GadgetTronic Brothers, Est. ∞ .
Before Key could look for any more writing on the tiny robotic spiders, the Gossamingles gathered all over her body, tickling her from head to foot so much that she could not stop laughing. It felt good to laugh again; she hadn’t done so in a long time.
Then the Gossamingles linked themselves together like thread as they wove themselves into new clothes. They coordinated the color of their metallic skin to appear pleasing. Perhaps the most amazing part of it all was that they did all this in mere seconds. When they finished weaving themselves into Key’s new outfit, the Gossamingles fell fast asleep. And if Key listened hard enough, she could just barely hear them snoring like sleeping children.
Key studied her new clothes. They were wonderful! She had never worn clothes that fit her so perfectly. They were like nothing she had ever seen before. She was now wearing a dove gray jacket, white shirt, black gloves, leather corset, leather boots, and black and white striped pants.
Also, little copper gizmos were strapped all over her clothing, with wiring sticking out every which way. Strapped to her sleeves were pewter plates with switches. Fastened to her boots were brass boxes and buttons. Affixed to her corset were three gauges. Above one gauge were the words Body Temperature Regulator . Above another gauge were the words Boredom Driver-Outer . Above another gauge was the word Custard .
The Gossamingles had even woven themselves together under her shackles, as her ankle was still chained to the wall, which saddened Key a little, even though she was so delighted with these new clothes. They may have fit quite comfortably, but she was still a prisoner in Despair.
Key looked up for Future Key, to thank her immensely, but Future Key was nowhere to be seen. “Wait,” Key called out into the darkness of Despair, suddenly thinking of a very important question. “What happened to mom and dad’s gift? What happened to my – I mean, our birthday dress?”
An answer came back to her, sounding like an echo among leaves rustling in a breeze, and it was Future Key’s voice speaking in this strange echo, very faintly, as if she was responding from far, far away. “Don’t worry,” were her parting words to Key. “The dress is stored safely in the Crinomatic’s core processor. Besides, mom and dad’s last gift wasn’t their best.”
For the first time in their peculiar conversation, Key heartily disagreed with Future Key. Although she had no
The device suddenly opened, like a compact mirror, and a bright white light shone out from within. The light completely surrounded Key, reminding her of the way the light from the Hand of DIOS had shone from between Mr. Fuddlebee’s fingers and surrounded her on her ninth birthday. If anyone in the dungeon could have seen Key at that moment, the light now radiating out from the open Crinomatic would have blinded them briefly. Not even Key could escape this temporary blindness, although the light did allow her to watch while her clothes marvelously changed.
She was enthralled watching her old birthday dress suddenly scatter in a swirl of ashes, right before it was funneled directly into the Crinomatic. Next, out from the small device came teeny-tiny robotic creatures, each one as small as a drop of mist. Key’s very acute vampire sight observed that they bore a striking resemblance to tiny black widow spiders. She knew that normal black widows have a red hourglass shape on their backs, but these robotic spiders had instead only one word, which was much, much smaller than the spiders, so much smaller in fact that she had to narrow her eyes just to read it.
“Gossamingles,” she read aloud.
She understood then that Gossamingles must be what these tiny robotic spiders were called. And as Key tried to study them a little more closely, one soared right past her nose, and she happened to read more words underneath its black abdomen: The GadgetTronic Brothers, Est. ∞ .
Before Key could look for any more writing on the tiny robotic spiders, the Gossamingles gathered all over her body, tickling her from head to foot so much that she could not stop laughing. It felt good to laugh again; she hadn’t done so in a long time.
Then the Gossamingles linked themselves together like thread as they wove themselves into new clothes. They coordinated the color of their metallic skin to appear pleasing. Perhaps the most amazing part of it all was that they did all this in mere seconds. When they finished weaving themselves into Key’s new outfit, the Gossamingles fell fast asleep. And if Key listened hard enough, she could just barely hear them snoring like sleeping children.
Key studied her new clothes. They were wonderful! She had never worn clothes that fit her so perfectly. They were like nothing she had ever seen before. She was now wearing a dove gray jacket, white shirt, black gloves, leather corset, leather boots, and black and white striped pants.
Also, little copper gizmos were strapped all over her clothing, with wiring sticking out every which way. Strapped to her sleeves were pewter plates with switches. Fastened to her boots were brass boxes and buttons. Affixed to her corset were three gauges. Above one gauge were the words Body Temperature Regulator . Above another gauge were the words Boredom Driver-Outer . Above another gauge was the word Custard .
The Gossamingles had even woven themselves together under her shackles, as her ankle was still chained to the wall, which saddened Key a little, even though she was so delighted with these new clothes. They may have fit quite comfortably, but she was still a prisoner in Despair.
Key looked up for Future Key, to thank her immensely, but Future Key was nowhere to be seen. “Wait,” Key called out into the darkness of Despair, suddenly thinking of a very important question. “What happened to mom and dad’s gift? What happened to my – I mean, our birthday dress?”
An answer came back to her, sounding like an echo among leaves rustling in a breeze, and it was Future Key’s voice speaking in this strange echo, very faintly, as if she was responding from far, far away. “Don’t worry,” were her parting words to Key. “The dress is stored safely in the Crinomatic’s core processor. Besides, mom and dad’s last gift wasn’t their best.”
For the first time in their peculiar conversation, Key heartily disagreed with Future Key. Although she had no
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