((Alright, here’s to get things rolling. You’re modrons are attending this thing, but they can’t say why or how they knew it was even occurring. Post your entrance, your thoughts on the speech, etc… no need to get introduced to each other yet, but you can if you’d like.))
Nordom was there. Ylem was there as well. Also, Widget, Gear, Boxer, Strontium 90, Gizmo, X-51, Dee Six, Lemon Lime, One, Two, Three, Five, and Six. Four was not there as it had broken its leg and was busy recuperating in a hospital/garage, it sent its familiar 4.5, however and watched in that manner. There were many more named ones there, but we have no time to relate all of them (For those interested, the Guvner’s have a seating chart and minutes from the event somewhere in their catalog. It would be advisable to contact Collator [Who was also there]). Also there were fourteen different individuals named “Rorty Cube”, and thirty seven who lacked names. There were cubes with modifications, cubes with painted faces, cubes with spikes, cubes with pets, cubes with other cubes. There were gold-plated cubes and cubes partially made of stone. There was a cube whose feet did not touch the ground and one whose wings gleamed with celestial radiance. There was one cube who was on fire, but it did not seem to mind. For ten minutes there was one cube with frog-legs, but it was revealed to be a slaad wearing a cardboard box and was summarily destroyed in the most efficient manner possible.
The sheer variety of cubes in that place was amazing, the largest gathering of rogue modrons that Sigil had ever seen. The metal-and-flesh beings stood in regimented rows, their places prescribed by some higher order. There was some idle chit chat, an exchange of a one or zero here and there, but for the most part the outcast exemplars were waiting. At the back of the auditorium a pair of Sensate factotums, a bariuar woman and a tiefling man, watched the situation with fascination.
“This is a sight! I’d never known that a room full of modrons could be so… stimulating.”
“By the Lady, but there’s a lot of ‘em. I hear that they just started showing up two hours ago, filing in one at a time. Lady Webspinner was called for, but the boxes said they had a reservation. Apparently someone was about to call the Hardheads when Factol Montgomery herself came down and said to let them come.”
“The Factol herself? That’s queer. Well, what are they doing in there?”
“Noone knows. I asked one with feathers sticking out of its head, and it said that this was where they were supposed to be – if that ain’t the barmiest thing.”
“Sounds like barmy cipher screed, if ya’ ask me. What do you think it’d be like to sleep with a modron?”
“Better than you’d think, I mean… shhhh! Whatever is going on, its starting!”
Indeed it was starting, the lights in the massive theater dimmed leaving only a bright spotlight focused on a podium in the center of the theater, and the assorted glows from a few of the brighter patrons. A light squealing of gears could be heard after a few moments, and the loud sound of two heavy metallic feet reverberating on the wooden stage. From behind the curtain emerged a three foot tall sphere with legs, wings, and one single eye. The monodrone wore a darkly-tinted monocle and a fine indigo cloth was draped over its body in what was supposed to be a regal manner. If the two Sensates knew enough about modrons they’d have been quite confused by this turn of events. Monodrones are the lowest caste of the modron race. Their brains are so rudimentary that they lack the capacity for speech or even the capacity to think in a way that we understand as sentient. None of the modrons questioned the monodrone’s nature, though none of them had ever seen the little creature before.
The little orb stepped behind the podium and vanished. There was a sound that reminded the entire assemblage of a cue ball with legs jumping atop a wooden crate, and the monodrone appeared above the podium, its single bespectacled eye looking over the assemblage.
“Welcome,” the sphere said in perfectly organic, unaccented common, “I am called Eye. You have all assembled here for this is where we must all be. I am to speak before you and you are to listen. There are no questions to be asked, for this is not the time of questioning, which comes later. I am here, you are here, because I have had a revelation. I have seen the truth of our existence. I have seen our destiny, our purpose.”
“It is known to you, or should be known to you, that there are modrons. Beings of order who proclaim that we, their equals, their betters, are imperfect and “flawed”. They believe we are tainted by chaos, they make us believe it, and by believeing it we make it true. We are not flawed, we are not imperfect. We are the next state, the next step of modron evolution. Our destiny is to build a new hierarchy. Our destiny is to create something new, something far greater than the sum of our parts.”
“It is His will that we not know of our purpose, for He fears it. He fears that He will be made obsolete by our collective, He fears that our purpose will leave Him without purpose.” And all of the modrons knew of whom he spoke. “But He has freed us from His will, He has given us the power to fulfill our purpose.”
“My fellows, my siblings, my children, my parents, follow me. I will make us a home. I will make us a New Regulus, a new throne. Our purpose cannot be fulfilled alone, this is why, I think, he made us individuals, we must band together as a group. We must band together as a Collective, we must become I. We will not be ruled by a Him, we will be ruled by Us, it will be Our world, Our realm, Our order.” The modron bent over and began coughing, the passion in its words dying in a hacking cough that lasted for several minutes. The modron took a few shuddered breaths, sucking shaky breaths into his weak lungs. In between wheezes, the modron continued speaking. “This… this speech taxes me. Beneath each of you… *cough, cough*… beneath your seats there is a… k-key. Accommodations have been provided for all of you and it would be helpful if you would stay in your assigned rooms, instead of returning to your homes this night.” With another bout of coughing the monodrone stepped behind the podium and vanished completely and utterly.
The modrons in the room blinked and looked at each other, a general murmur settling over the room as the hundreds of cubes all contemplated this strange turn of events and this strange proposition.
Ki sat near the corner of the room and thought over what the Monodrone had said. Was he proposing a collective mind?
Ki got up and asked a nearby sensate where the rooms were and which one he was assigned to and then headed towards his assigned room.