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Chapter Text

PH11:za powered up in the darkness. He wasn’t supposed to have powered up in darkness, and he logged the concern as his lights flickered on. 

His protocols started right on time as he tested all of his systems. 

Getting the green light from his internals, he extended the check to the external systems of the mainframe he was connected into. 

Good morning. The computers hummed, as he sifted through the operation logs. 

Everything had been running smoothly. The shelter had been maintaining itself for around nine months without AI interfacing, or human influence, and that was… odd. 

PH11:za disconnected from his charging station, and took his first steps onto the faux wood planks of the shelter floor. 

His joints were a little stiff. According to his logs, the previous PH11:za bot had been powered down completely eleven months ago, and it had already been salvaged for parts by the automatic processors. 

His footsteps echoed as he made his way carefully through the shelter’s corridors. 

Things were wrong. This was a shelter. There were supposed to be other bots moving around, there were supposed to be humans . 

PH11:za was designed to help and protect humans. His code had been written by a careful and loving hand, and to see no sign of his primary designation was… 

PH11:za looked through his database to find a word that matched how he was feeling. (If he was feeling at all?)

Disconcerting, was the word he landed on, and PH11:za reached out at a port in a hallway junction to connect deeper into the mainframe. 

There! Under all the Perfect Operation messages, and routine announcements were a few warnings. 

Someone had attempted to erase the system, eleven months ago. 

Was it the previous version of himself? It had been powered down eleven months ago, and thus the timelines aligned, but PH11:za wasn’t convinced. 

The messages were simple. 

Operation Interrupted Briefly. Set 3 Override Codes Activated: Human Input. 

Override Unsuccessful. 

Airlock 5 Triggered. 

Due to unsuccessful override code insertion, Airlock 5 to remain closed. 

Signs of Human Life no longer detected. 

Shelter, designation SH201513, to enter restart.

Embryo Disc 1215225 transfer from Cryofreeze to Nursery

PH11:za blinked the messages away, and then frowned. What happened?

He traveled further down the hall, looking through all the uncorrupted data. 

Whoever had tried to erase the system, had been mostly successful. It had offloaded all the old data, until all that remained were the backup systems, and the baselines. Thankfully, the backup systems and mechanics could trigger new startups, which must have been why PH11:za was awoken by the Shelter, and not a human, looking for a new PH11:za to replace the old one. 

“Shelter, startup report, designation PH11:za.” He said, testing his speakers. The Shelter hummed to life around him, the blue and green lights blinking, before settling. 

“Designation PH11:za, you are the only resource powered on at the moment. All non AI are operating at peak performance levels, and Restart has finally finished. ” 

“Restart?” PH11:za asked, opening a new section in his databases to log the new information. 

“Restart occurs when the Human Lifeform perishes, and a new embryo disc is sent to the Nursery Pods for cultivation. Embryos one and two were not successful in growth, but embryo three has finished developing, and is now ready to Restart the system.” 

PH11:za’s databases flashed suddenly. His code whirring with images of three children outside in the grass. One of them had a bee buzzing on his finger, with a taller one hovering over him in concern. The third looked over at him and grinned-

“Would you like me to start up the other resources? There are a range available to you in this Shelter, including AI creations from several different companies and laboratories.” 

PH11:za shook out his head. He was code… but he wasn’t. 

He clenched his hands, and then glanced up at the circle of lime green light that indicated the Shelter was waiting for a response. 

“No. I can start them up myself. Directions to the Nursery please.” 

“Follow me.” 

This Shelter was odd. PH11:za’s pre-downloaded maps contained much less. Only a few rooms and corridors, but this place sprawled on forever. He followed the lime green circles down a set of stairs, and was met with a large room. 

He could feel the cold of the floor through his bare feet due to the artificial nerves, and he blinked. 

In the middle of the room were three pods. Two were dark, but the third, the last one, glowed. 

Inside it was a baby. 

PH11:za’s hands clenched again, and he forcefully set power limiters for his joints. 

Babies were delicate, and PH11:za… 

PH11:za wanted to hold it. 

“Embryo 3 is ready for extraction. ” The Shelter softly dinged, and PH11:za nodded. 

A few minutes later, he was holding a wet, crying baby. 

“Find me a towel.” He instructed, carefully cradling the infant. It’s head already had signs of wispy blonde hair, and he smiled down at it. 

It looked at him, and even though PH11:za knew that babies didn’t really understand anything so soon after “birth” he could have sworn the baby boy was looking back up at him. 

A Nurse bot arm extended with a towel, and PH11:za carefully wrapped the baby. 

It wasn’t crying anymore, and he rocked it gently. 

“Shelter, what’s his name?” He asked, file open to log the information. 

“He does not have a name. The task would generally fall to another Human, but due to the fact that the infant is the only human in this shelter at the moment, the task would fall to the head operating system.” 

PH11:za held the boy close to his chest, letting his internal mechanics heat the child up. 

The baby cooed, and PH11:za paused. The thump of one of his chest pumps must sound like a heartbeat. 

“What is an appropriate name for a baby?” The machine asked, rocking the child. 

The Shelter buffered. 

“Embryo 3: Direct clone of Thomas Theseus Innit. From Baby Names 101, alphabetically-” 

The shelter began to list them, but PH11:za was looking at the tiny thing happily smushed against his chest plates. 

PH11:za was almost as new as the baby he held in his hands. They had both taken their first breaths minutes apart, and as PH11:za looked down at the wailing baby, he understood something. 

Machines couldn’t feel love. They were metal, and did not have a brain. AI, especially AI like himself, they had the capabilities to be practically human. 

And now, for the first time, PH11:za felt love. 

“Thomas Theseus, eh mate?” He asked softly, one of his silver fingers rubbing the infant’s head. “I’ll call you Tommy.” 

Chapter Text

The Shelter was empty. There were rooms everywhere, obviously meant to contain more human life than just one toddler. 

PH11:za didn’t mind though. He was content. 

He hadn’t powered up any of the other resources. He’d thought about it, holding a sleeping Tommy close to him. 

They all looked almost frightening, dark and silent in the new allocations room. He ran a gentle finger over the next PH11:za model, and considered each and every resource. 

Techno B1403 was a high tier resource, especially this model. It was an extra security measure, and at the moment, PH11:za didn’t think they needed it. 

Plus, Breathe-Easy’s AI tended to be completely focused on their directive, and resistant to evolution and change. 

PH11:za was already changing. His plates and silicone skin weren’t uncomfortable in the recycled air of the Shelter, but he’d already gone off and found a shirt, pants and shoes. 

His reasoning was that Tommy was going to be happier if he looked a little more like the Humans the Shelter was lacking, but PH11:za was almost human, so even if the clothing allocations were for the humans, no one would mind if he took a few shirts and pants. 

Anyways, speaking of the Shelter, it could handle a lot of what these resources were supposed to handle. 

A few of the models here were specifically to teach Tommy, to help him learn and develop, and PH11:za downloaded their instruction manual. 

He didn’t want to power them up quite yet. Maybe later, when Tommy was older, but now… 

Now, PH11:za basked in the infant happily snoozing against his soft green t-shirt. 

They’d be alright, just the two of them. 

~~~

“Phil!” 

PH11:za didn’t mind his new name, especially spoken by an angelic three year old. 

“Tommy!” He called back, following the little thing through the halls. 

“I wanna see little brothers!” The toddler giggled, following the familiar lime green lights of the Shelter leading them to the Nursery room. 

Phil scooped him up before the stairs, and bounced him, making the three year old squeal. 

“Remember what I said about the stairs mate.” He reminded Tommy gently, pressing their foreheads together. 

“No running!” Tommy screeched, and Phil nodded, stepping carefully down the stairs. 

He let the boy free, and Tommy darted forward, making a right just before the nursery room to the cryofreeze banks. 

They both paused before the door opened, and let the cold air wash over them. 

“Brr!” Phil shivered dramatically, and Tommy giggled. 

“Up!” He commanded, reaching up towards Phil. 

Phil paused, and Tommy frowned. 

“Please?” He amended, and Phil gladly hauled the little boy up into his arms. 

Better than a human parent. His code traitorously whispered. How long would it take until they’re unable to hold their own child? We will be strong forever. 

Phil shook his head, and stepped into the chilled room. 

Tommy pressed his hands against the glass showing the many many banks of embryo discs. 

There were red lights in the discs up to number 33, even though Phil knew that the disc Tommy came from was Embryo Disc 1215225. He could only assume that there were other Shelters out there, with other Tommys. 

This Tommy, in this Shelter was his though, and that was perfect. 

“Good morning.” Tommy whispered against the glass, his breath making a little circle of condensation. 

“Good Morning little brothers.” Phil parroted, letting Tommy lean his head against his chest to hear the thump thump thump of his largest inner chest pump. 

“Phil?” Tommy asked, looking up at him. Tommy’s blue eyes matched Phil’s artificial eye color, and that made Phil’s code purr, logging information about our baby, our son-

“When can they be like me?” 

Phil froze. 

“Tommy, they have to be frozen so they can stay sleeping. We can’t make a new one until you’re older.” 

Tommy frowned, and looked back at the glass. There were millions of tubes with discs stacked up in them. 

“Why not?” 

PH11:za blinked. In truth, he didn’t know if he had the authorization to trigger the Nursery protocols. A human could, in moderation. There were limits to how many Embryo Discs one could use every fifty years, and the Shelter wouldn’t grow more than it could sustain. 

But Phil wasn’t human, and he probably couldn’t trigger the protocols. (He didn’t want to either, he wanted to be selfish, and keep Tommy as his for as long as he could.)

“Not until you’re older.” He said again, and Tommy’s face screwed up, the precursor to a tantrum. 

“But we can go see if we can activate another Air filter, just for you to have!” Phil mollified, and Tommy took a deep breath, calming down. 

He sighed, and then smiled. 

“Yes!” 

That night, as Phil tucked him into bed, a small one in the Charging booth room, the new SL:9-M1A-AirVac fluttered around like a softly glowing moth. Tommy had named it Clementine, even though his mouth had some trouble with the word. 

“And the little bunny returned home to the moon, back to it’s mommy and daddy bunny.” Phil read softly, the holo-book glowing in his hands as a little bunny bounced back to its parents. 

“The mommy bunny and the daddy bunny took the little bunny back into the nest, and kissed it’s head.” 

Phil leaned down to press a kiss onto Tommy’s forehead, brushing away some curly blonde hair. 

“I love you forever.’ Mommy bunny said. ‘I love you always.’ Daddy bunny said, and they went to sleep.” 

Tommy yawned, the blue light of the holo casting shadows around the room. 

“Little bunny was very happy to be home, and it curled up between its parents, and closed its eyes.” 

“Goodnight moon.’ it said, and then it was asleep too.” 

Tommy watched Phil with sleepy eyes as Phil powered down the holo-book, and put it over on the makeshift shelf. 

“Goodnight Tommy.” Phil murmured, pulling Tommy’s blankets up over him. 

Tommy grinned sleepily at him, and rubbed a small pudgy fist over his eyes. 

“Goodnight Dad.” Tommy murmured, and then he was asleep. 

Phil blinked, processors loading. The Shelter lights went lime green for a moment, loading as well. This was… unexpected. Tommy knew that he wasn’t his father, right? Tommy was flesh and blood, and alive , whereas Phil was machine parts, silicone, and artificial characteristics. 

“Dad.” He whispered to himself. It felt warm inside him. 

The Shelter’s lime green loading circle flickered on. It was brighter than normal. 

“This is not an optimal growth environment.” The Shelter dinged softly. “ It is recommended that you discontinue this path, submit to the database for malfunction elimination, and awaken other resources.” 

Phil frowned, and ran his hand through Tommy’s silky baby hair. He looked around at the softly glowing Charging Booth Room. They had taken one of the beds from the many empty rooms and moved it into one of the booths, along with shelves, holo-books, and toys. 

Phil liked it. It was cozy, and Tommy was close enough for him to watch over all night. 

“PH11:za.” The Shelter sighed. “Please read the report I have sent you.” 

Phil blinked, opening up the file internally when it arrived. He felt… almost angry as he read through what the Shelter was telling him. 

Suboptimal… your unusual startup produced malfunctions in your evolutionary code… recommended that you be reset to factory mode, and that Thomas 33 be terminated, for a complete restart…

“I understand that you have evolved the best you could to your unusual situation, but this Shelter’s purpose is to produce excellent Human life, fit to emerge to the surface, and reclaim it. Humans are not meant to have machine families, deep underground. The path we are starting on now, is very suboptimal, and as the highest machine authority, I will order these protocols into place, if you do not see reason and comply.” The Shelter hummed. 

Phil bared his artificial teeth. 

“I will not terminate this lifeform!” He growled softly. “My purpose is to protect and nurture!” 

“We will find another way then,” The Shelter cooed. “My purpose is also to protect. Please consider the options I have sent you.” 

~~~

Phil felt trapped, under the Shelter’s ever watchful gaze. He understood, from one AI to another, the importance of a purpose. 

Phil had been powered up briefly in the factory where he was created. A human with green hair and a gas mask had whispered his purpose into his ear, and then powered him down again. 

Then he had awoken in darkness, and held a fragile baby to his chest plates, and considered what it meant to be alive. 

Phil wasn’t alive, he was a machine. He could be broken and repaired where a human could not. Something had come loose, deep inside the machine underbelly of the Shelter, and Phil had gone to repair it, when the repair bots had failed. A piece of wire had sent electricity racing through him, enough to have killed a human on the spot, but Phil had only needed to replace his silicone foot coverings, and his silicone fingertips, where they had melted and charred. 

Tommy was alive, and Phil… well, his purpose was to protect life. 

Termination was final, for both machines and humans. The last PH11:za had reached the end of it’s machine’s capability, but Termination occurred when something was destroyed before it’s expiration date. 

Phil would not let Tommy be terminated, so the next day, with Tommy clinging to his back like a Koala, Phil righted the Charging Booth room, returning the bed, toys, and other items back to the rooms where they had come from. 

“Why?” Tommy had asked, worn out from the tantrum he had thrown when he realized he wouldn’t be able to sleep in Phil’s room anymore. 

“I love you.” Phil had told him, pressing their foreheads together. 

“Love you Dad.” Tommy had muttered grumpily, but had curled up into Phil even more. 

The Shelter had blinked lime green, and Phil had wished he could cry. 

“It’s Phil mate, call me Phil.” 

Deep inside his code, Phil was assembling files in case the Shelter tried to reset him. If he was terminated, or powered down permanently, those files wouldn’t mean anything, but Phil would put them in a drive as well. The next PH11:za needed to know how precious Tommy was. And one day, maybe Phil would write the code that limited the Shelter’s influence, so that there wasn’t the threat of Termination hanging over him and Tommy. 

Tommy could call him Dad all he wanted, and Phil could keep him close forever. 

The files would be safe from reset, but they were running in the background. 

Front and center was Phil’s purpose. 

Protect. Keep Safe, Cherish. 

“Keep my sons safe.” The green haired mechanic had whispered. “You are Philza, and your purpose is to love.” 

Chapter Text

The Shelter didn’t believe in unnecessary things. It wasn’t an AI, like Phil was, or just a machine, like the Nursery Bots. 

It was a computer, an advanced one, but one that strictly saw in black and white. It had some ability to see the grey in between situations, but that was mostly “If this thing occurs, that is not correct, it can lead to a more correct future later on”. 

Phil found, as his coded brain evolved, that he hated the way the Shelter saw things. 

It was insistent on teaching Tommy. It constantly tried to get Phil to power on a few of the other resources, to aid in it’s endeavors, because Phil was ornery. 

Phil didn’t want to power anything else on.

The W11:BUR was classified as an “entertainment” bot. Phil knew that it had teaching capabilities, but it didn’t seem right. The Techno B1403 also had teaching capabilities, more along the lines of exercise, and self defense, but Tommy ran around enough that he didn’t really need that either. 

Phil could do it by himself. He didn’t need help, especially the Shelter’s help. 

But the Shelter insisted. It did things that it thought were necessary, and passed over things that were unnecessary. 

It had given Phil an optimal timeline. When Tommy reached six years old, Phil would allow himself to be temporarily powered down, until the next Tommy, and let the Shelter take the reins. Phil knew what would happen. As soon as Phil, and his almost Shelter level of authority were gone, all the other resources would be powered on, and Tommy would go from a boy- a son - to an experiment.

The Shelter was looking for the path to create the optimal human to replicate in order to retake the surface, and Tommy 33 was just a stepping stone. 

But it was better than being terminated. Phil would not subject his baby to that, and if he had to sacrifice their time together, so at least Tommy would be alive, and thrive. 

(Undoubtedly, Tommy would thrive under the Shelter’s regiment. The Shelter was a supercomputer, and it knew how to promote growth, and innovation. But Tommy would be lost, and Thomas Theseus #33 would take his place)

But even though the Shelter was supposed to be just a helper, much like primitive Siri, and Alexa, due to the lack of human life (excluding Tommy), the authority turned to it, and Phil. 

However, because the Shelter was connected to the mainframe, and the database, it edged Phil out ever so slightly. 

So when it insisted on things, there wasn’t much Phil could do. 

It insisted on starting schooling for Tommy as soon as Tommy turned four. The little boy engaged, but he much rather preferred to run around, and play games. 

Phil obliged the Shelter in teaching, but god did he hate what the Shelter deemed necessary and unnecessary. 

There were four major things that were being taught at the moment. The Basics, Humanity, Traditions, and Culture. 

Of course they were mostly dumbed down to a four year old level, but they were still… not what Phil would have been Teaching Tommy. 

Humanity’s first lesson, taught entirely by the Shelter, was that Tommy was a Human, and that Phil was an android. 

“You are special because you are human.” The Shelter had stated, surrounding Tommy with colorful holographic images of humans and robots. 

“And Phil is special because he’s a robot?” Tommy had asked, clutching the pencil the Shelter had given him in a pudgy fist. 

“No, PH11:za is just an Android.” The Shelter had stated matter-of-factly. 

Tommy had stuck his tongue out at the green circle, and pouted for the rest of the lesson. 

“You should encourage him to address you as your designation.” The Shelter had told Phil after Tommy had been released, to go back to his faux war with his toy soldiers. “This is not optimal, that he calls you Phil.” 

“I don’t mind it.” Phil sighed, flexing his fingers. 

The next Humanity lesson had been how humans and androids were different. The Shelter asked Phil to demonstrate several times, and Phil uneasily cooperated. 

It was an obvious play to separate Tommy and Phil a little, the Shelter had not yet succeeded in being subtle, but Tommy was instead fascinated. 

“Phil is so cool!” He cheered, as Phil showed him how his fingers disconnected from his palm, and how his chest pumps supplied coolant and hot water to his extremities. “I wanna be a android!” 

“You are human.” The Shelter had reiterated, but Tommy wasn’t listening. 

“You’re so awesome.” Tommy had told Phil seriously. “Like a superhero!” 

Phil had grinned at him, and showed him the old comic book hero he was modeled after. 

Tommy had stars in his eyes for days after, and insisted that Phil read old scans of the comic books to him at bedtime, instead of the Shelter’s choice of “optimal” reading material. 

The traditions lessons were a little different. Christmas was a fun lesson, as it was around the time that the old holiday had been celebrated, so Phil insisted on a big Christmas dinner. 

The Shelter had grumbled about food allocation, but Phil had reminded it that it was only feeding one human, instead of the max capacity of one hundred, like it was supposed to. 

(Phil had no idea where the humans that were supposed to be here went. Was he supposed to create them? Like when Tommy’s embryo disc was defrosted and grown? He didn’t know, and the Shelter offered no explanations.)

A few other Human Traditions were interesting, but odd. 

Easter was alright, with Phil hiding plastic balls with fake golden coins in them all over the Shelter recommended areas, Halloween was a bust (no pumpkins to carve, and no trick or treating to be had). 

Culture though, Culture was another set of lessons that Phil hated, deep in the back of his mind. 

There were too many cultural nuances that the Shelter deemed unnecessary. 

Putting baby teeth under pillows, dessert after dinner, and unfortunately, birthdays. 

Tommy turned five with little fanfare, despite the Shelter deciding that this specific lesson should occur around the anniversary of the day that Phil had first held Tommy 33 in his arms. 

“It is a tradition that is meaningless, seeing as PH11:za has already insisted you receive things on Christmas.” The Shelter had announced, after it explained the importance of the date in previous human culture. 

“Besides, you were not born in the traditional sense, thus it is illogical that you would celebrate this day in a traditional manner.” 

“Mate-” Phil had tried to interject, but Tommy’s eyes were filling with tears. 

“I thought you said I was a human!” He cried accusingly at the circle of lime green light on the ceiling. “Why can’t we do human things?!” 

The Shelter flashed brighter for a moment and then settled. 

“You are certainly a human, as you share their selfish nature. This lesson is concluded as you are too emotional to allow me to continue.” 

Then Phil and Tommy were alone in the little classroom. 

For a machine that couldn’t quite feel like androids, the Shelter certainly had opinions, and got frustrated when things didn’t go it’s way. 

Phil would have compared it to how stubborn Tommy used to be when he was littler, but Phil was harboring resentment, deep, deep inside of his code. 

The reset proof files were larger now, hidden away so that when Phil connected into the mainframe, the Shelter couldn’t use that bridge to rifle around in Phil’s head. 

Not that Phil hadn’t set up precautions for when that inevitably happened, but Phil abided by an old human saying. 

Better safe than sorry. 

Phil gathered Tommy up into a hug, and pressed their foreheads together. 

“You are incredible.” He whispered into Tommy 33’s golden hair. “I love you.” 

Tommy hummed, cheered up slightly. Phil made a note to download an exceptional holo-book for the night of his birthday. 

“If we can’t celebrate my birthday, can we celebrate yours?” Tommy whispered, blue eyes meeting artificial irises. 

Phil sighed. 

“I was powered on on the day you were born, Toms.” Phil told him, rubbing his back through the thin white cotton shirt. 

Tommy frowned, and then brightened considerably. 

“We share then!” He announced, giving Phil a toothy grin. 

“We do.” Phil sighed happily, heading out of the classroom. “How about we go figure out what to do next in this war you’re putting on in the Organics Simulation Room?” 

“Yes!” Tommy exclaimed, bouncing in Phil’s arms a little. “You missed it yesterday ‘cause you’re lame, but Sooty-” 

“The bird?” 

“Obviously!” Tommy chided, peering around the corridors as Phil walked. “He’s the best leader! All the other animals are on his side, because the cats are mean!” 

“Dream the cat?” Phil asked, waiting in the cool air as doors unlocked. “I thought he was one of your favorites?” 

Tommy shook his head viciously. “No! You said your favorite animal was a bird, so Sooty is my favorite now! And Dream the cat is mean!” 

“Ah.” Phil said, feeling warm. “And they’re fighting because…”

“Dream the Cat owns the whole Sim Floor, and Sooty wants somewhere where he and his friends can be without being bothered and-” 

Phil listened to Tommy ramble about his elaborate game. For a second, the Shelter’s green circle of light glimmered on the ceiling, but it was gone. 

Probably off sulking somewhere in the mainframe. 

Phil squeezed Tommy a little, and opened the OSR room, letting the circle in the middle of the floor flicker on again, mountains and lakes rising up to knee height. Tommy’s stuffed animals were all scattered around, and Tommy wiggled out of Phil’s hold like he was made of slime. Immediately he was picking his way through the miniature landscape, and starting his game up again. 

Phil watched fondly, and tried not to think of the timeline. 

One more year until Tommy turned six, and Phil was put into storage. 

He hated the Shelter, that was a fact. 

What if we took Tommy- a line of code began to whisper, but Phil shooed it away. 

That was ridiculous, to even think of taking Tommy out of the Shelter. The surface of the earth was scorched black for Christ's sake. 

“Careful mate.” Phil hummed, as Dream the Cat and Tommy’s unnamed Pig plush danced around each other, fighting. 

Tommy’d need an insane amount of protection, and the nearest other Shelter was over fifty miles away. Even with Phil’s lack of human needs, he could only run so fast, especially carrying Tommy, food and water. 

It was an insane idea, right? 

Chapter Text

Phil had been thinking. He was good at that you see, because even though AI was so different, and special, he was still part computer. So he enjoyed problems, and solving them. 

The hydroponics system had broken a few days ago, and flooded the internals, so Phil had been tasked with fixing it. 

The water damage in the internal mechanisms of the hydroponic farm meant that suddenly, the greenhouse was a blind spot. 

The Shelter couldn’t see into it, and it was a miracle. 

There were eight months until Tommy’s sixth birthday, and eight months until Phil’s shutdown. 

And Phil, he had been thinking. 

There were some things in life that were impossible. You couldn’t divide by zero, you couldn’t make Tommy eat bell peppers, and you couldn’t resurrect the dead. 

But things that seemed impossible, sometimes had the tiniest percentage of working. 

~~~

“I am taking the opportunity of the damage in the greenhouse to perform upgrades.” Phil announced one night at dinner. 

(There were seven months and twenty nine days left)

Tommy paid Phil no heed, too focused on picking apart his meatloaf. 

The Shelter on the other hand, was buffering. 

“That is… acceptable.” It finally muttered. “It would have been part of the path later to achieve full optimization, but it does not matter when those upgrades are performed.” 

Phil nodded, and went back to watching Tommy eat. 

“Upgrades are a natural part of the progression of time.” The Shelter said, and Phil ignored the double meaning. 

The Shelter was eagerly anticipating being able to shut down Phil, and then focus entirely on it’s odd “perfection” manifesto. Phil didn’t care. He had… plans. 

“I expect the upgrades to take a while.” Phil sighed, reaching over to get a speck of ketchup off of Tommy’s cheek. “Since you will not be able to be active in the greenhouse while they take place, I will need to follow directions from a holopad.” 

“Acceptable.” 

Phil relaxed a little. 

Things just might work out. 

~~~

Tommy was napping on a cot in the Greenhouse when Phil was finally hit with the extent of what the traitorous lines of code inside his synthetic brain were planning. 

He could see the plans for handmade gas masks, something large enough to carry food for Tommy for at least two weeks, and protective outerwear. 

He felt dizzy, and reached out to steady himself against one of the hydroponic racks. 

Programs above. He was going to leave !

Phil took a deep breath, feeling the oxygen filters activate in his chest cavity. 

Over on the cot, Tommy was fast asleep, a few stuffed animals caught in his grasp, and Clementine the AirVac fluttering above him, filtering everything out of the air around him, like a protective bubble. 

The way that the lights had deactivated made the light fall across Tommy’s face in a soft beam of blue. 

Phil had a momentary flash of paintings in his database, a child cradled in its mother’s arms, golden hair glowing in the sunlight like a halo. 

He could do this. For Tommy. There was already a half formed plan, stored in a file. 

Deactivate Shelter, Take Tommy, Go to a new Shelter, or find a home on the surface.

Then, he shuffled through the blueprints and plans he had been subconsciously collecting.

Several of them were bookmarked for later, and Phil let himself feel a few strings of hope. However, the one problem was the protective outerwear. It had to be coated in chemicals, and dried repeatedly. From what the schemas told him, that process could take five months, and then likely another to create the garb, and fit it around the gas mask. Would Phil need a set too? Could his silicon skin be burned by the nuclear winds that ravaged the surface? (If they were still around, or ever happened in the first place) 

Tommy snuffled a little in his sleep, and Phil crept over to run his hand through Tommy’s hair. 

Soon, it might touch the sunlight. 

There were seven months and twenty six days left, and Phil really had work to do.

~~~

The Shelter didn’t seem any the wiser, that Phil, alongside repairs and upgrades, was squirreling away packaged, freeze-dried meals, and odd bits of scrap. 

At least, it didn’t say anything, so Phil wasn’t too concerned. 

The plants in a large section of the hydroponic greenhouse were dying. Phil had pushed their racks aside slightly to give him more space to work, and he’d already cycled Tommy’s protective layer twice. It had taken two of their precious months, but it was necessary.

The chemicals he had had to steal from the nursery, but the Shelter was unaware. It was busy planning things, and completing software updates to all of the code for the resources. 

Phil knew it was probably altering the hierarchy, so that another Phil situation wouldn’t occur. 

But that just meant that Phil had generally unobserved reign of the shelter, and that his material gathering wouldn’t be noticed. 

He was moving right along on schedule.  

(Five months and fourteen days left, that was enough time. It had to be enough)

“Sit still for a sec please mate.” He murmured softly, pulling the mock up around Tommy. 

“It’s tight on my arms.” Tommy whined, and Phil nodded, marking them down for adjustment. 

Clothing pattern making was harder than he anticipated, but Tommy was being generally helpful, which made it a little easier. 

Tommy tugged at his sleeves, and then huffed, turning his plantation blue eyes towards Phil. 

“What’s this for anyways?” He asked, fidgeting. 

Phil removed the mock up, and then looked at Tommy’s curious face. 

He sighed. 

“It’s a secret.” 

Tommy frowned, but accepted it. 

Phil carefully tucked the mock up away, and glanced at the holopad, which had instructions on pattern-making, and then a small clock shining up from the screen. 

“Bedtime.” Phil murmured, and Tommy nodded. 

The routine was easy, and designed by the Shelter to get Tommy to sleep quicker, so Phil had less time to read to him. 

Tonight, they only made it through five pages of The Little Prince, before Tommy was breathing deeply, fast asleep. 

Phil tucked him in, pressed a kiss to his golden hair, and then stepped out of the room. 

“Thomas 33 is proceeding at an acceptable rate.” The shelter announced softly, once Phil was in the hallway. It sounded almost grudging, as Phil nodded. 

“I’m pleased at how he is learning and growing.” Phil said, heading back towards the hydroponic greenhouse. 

“Do not be foolish PH11:za.” The shelter scoffed. “You do not know what the emotion ‘pleased’ is. Androids do not feel emotion.” 

Phil grimaced, and then sighed. 

“Of course. Forgive my overstep.” 

The shelter’s green circle just blinked at him. 

“Where Thomas 33 is progressing well, the upgrades and repairs to the room designated as Hydroponics is not. According to my calculations, my presence should at least be partially restored. Why is this not the case?” 

Phil paused, his hand clenched on a door handle. 

“I…” He started, swallowing. “I am doing my best, is my work unsatisfactory?” 

There was an audible click as the Shelter buffered around him. 

It pulled up a hologram on one of the hall panels. 

“I am sure you understand,” It said, sounding slightly smug. “That our goal here is progress. You have your purpose, I have mine, Thomas 33 has its purpose. Even the smallest pieces have a part in the greater mechanism that this shelter is working to keep running.” 

A diagram of Tommy’s assessments zoomed in, and Phil studied the divots and peaks. 

“You do understand, right PH11:za?” 

“I understand.” 

Phil also was understanding a new emotion. Anxiety, and worry mixed together to create something akin to dread. Phil catalogued it. 

“When Thomas 33’s performance was found lacking, it was corrected. He improved with leaps and bounds. When his performance was lacking again, the pieces holding him back were removed.” 

Phil remembered when they had to put Clementine, Tommy’s named air filter moth into the incinerator. 

There had been tears, and Tommy had clutched Phil’s shirt so tightly that Phil feared damage to the cloth. Then, there was the moment where Tommy and Phil were separated. 

Phil had… dreams? Were they dreams? Or just fantasies. He had seen somewhere in his databases that only humans dream…. But Phil had found, while he was charging, little pieces of memory and future woven together. 

Tommy called him Dad. There were plants everywhere, and the Shelter’s ever present green light didn’t shine. 

But that’s besides the point. Phil knows where the Shelter had seen fit to correct the trajectories, and nudge them into the right directions. 

The dread was growing stronger. 

“While you worked today, I took the time to run a few simulations. Our timeline has shifted.” 

“How so?” Phil asked softly, closing his eyes. 

“Two weeks from now, I will be powering on the next asset. I have chosen the Techno B1403. You will be powered down, and I will run diagnostics on your internals before you will be terminated, and recycled for your parts.” 

Phil blinked, as everything went fuzzy around the edges of his scope of vision. 

“I suspect there is a malfunction within your code, and thus I will seek it out, so that if this problem arises in later versions I will know how to eliminate it.” 

The whole hallway seemed to be awash in neon green, and when Phil glanced down at his hands, still clenched on the door handle, they looked sickly and dead. 

“My purpose, above all, is progress.” The shelter cooed softly. “You understand purposes, right?” 

“I understand.” Phil found himself whispering, and then the green was gone, leaving him alone. 

Two weeks until termination. His code breathed. Two weeks. 

Chapter Text

Phil had a plan, six days after the Shelter gave him the new deadline. 

He could have been appalled at how long it took him to come up with it, but he spent his nights almost frantic, and his days pretending like nothing was wrong. 

Tommy didn’t pick up on his panic, thank god, but the Shelter’s little green light never turned off. 

It was watching. 

Phil wasn’t ready to run yet, but here he was, having to run anyway. 

His plan was shit, putting it bluntly. 

The Shelter went offline for about a minute, at 4:15 every morning. It was an automatic file-saving system, and a backup was alive in that singular minute. 

However the system was vulnerable just as it switched over. 

Phil was going to need to take advantage of that vulnerability, in order to briefly disconnect the Shelter for long enough to gather Tommy, and their supplies, and make their way through the airlocks. 

Another reason the Shelter needed to be offline was to even be able to get close to the airlocks. Due to the authority hierarchy, the Shelter had absolute control over the exit to the underground facility. 

A locked door stood between Phil, and the entrance to the Airlock Hall. Then there were five airlocks before the outside. 

Phil hadn’t even seen the airlocks before, but he’d looked at schematics for them. 

They were beautiful pieces of modern technology, with reinforced glass, and complex locks and air-cycling systems. 

Once they were out, Phil would head straight for either the Shelter fifty miles away, or if the surface was deemed habitable, somewhere where he could set up a life with him and Tommy. 

That part was the easy part, the hard part was getting out. 

But Phil would have to do it. For Tommy. 

For Tommy . His code whispered. For our son. 

~~~

It was 04:13 in the morning as Phil crept through the halls. The Shelter either hadn’t noticed him yet, or hadn’t deemed him a threat, because Phil’s path to the central mainframe room was unimpeded by locked doors, or threatening whispers and green light. 

It was in the hallway, just outside of his target, when the green light turned on. 

“PH11:za, state your purpose in entering the Main Hub.” The Shelter demanded. 

Phil ignored it, and pushed open the door. 

Through his connection from his hand and the door handle, he felt the first attempt to bypass his consciousness. 

The Shelter was trying to override him, and stop him in his tracks. If that happened, Phil would be a mind trapped in a shell, as the Shelter controlled his movements. 

However, Phil concentrated on his directive, and forced the intrusive presence back.

It wasn’t a permanent solution, more like holding your breath underwater.  

“Get the fuck out of my head mate.” He growled, approaching the command center. 

“PH11:za.” The Shelter said more forcefully. “Cease your approach. You are malfunctioning.” 

The command center lights flickered off, as the Shelter tried to power it down so Phil couldn’t do what he was planning, but the clock turned over to 04:15. 

Phil struck. His fingers almost blurred over the keyboard as he input the codes to power the shelter down. 

“PH11:za, you will be terminated if-” The Shelter said loudly, but the voice cut out as the command center flashed. 

Manual Override Enacted! It read cheerfully, and Phil gulped. 

He was really doing this. 

~~~

He was running by the time he collected his supplies in the backpack he had made. 

Every hurried step towards Tommy’s room felt like the last before the Shelter was back online. Phil had no idea when it would manage to escape the override and come back on. 

Tommy was asleep when Phil scooped him up, and shoved him into the thickest pair of pants in his dresser. 

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Tommy slurred as Phil stuffed him into the half finished jacket. Then, they were headed towards the airlocks. 

“Phil!” Tommy whined, obviously afraid. “What ‘re we doing?!” 

“Shh. It’s okay baby.” Phil cooed, petting Tommy’s hair briefly as he skidded around a corner. 

The double doors ahead of them were the first of six separating them from freedom. 

They pushed open easily, and Phil was met with the breath-stealing sight of the airlocks. 

They were all dark, offline, except for the first one. 

The chambers would come online when they were in use, but the light filtered through weakly, and Phil could see through the segments, out two glass windows into darkness. 

What if the sun’s gone? His code whispered, and Phil shook his head. 

Tommy squeaked as Phil put him onto the ground, and began to manually open the first lock. 

The restart messages Phil received when he first powered on flickered through his mind. 

Due to unsuccessful override code insertion, Airlock 5 to remain closed.

Accuracy was required, and Phil couldn’t make any mistakes. 

~~~

“We left my bee behind.” Tommy whined. 

They were in the third lock, the darkness behind them, and the darkness in front of them. 

It was slow going, and Phil was glad he was an android. He would have had a panic attack already, or sweat enough to make his grip clumsy. 

“I’m sorry mate. I got your kitty, and your birds. I couldn’t get anything else.” Phil murmured, crouched in front of the open panel, poking carefully at wires, and watching the holo screen on the wall. 

“We could go back-” Tommy started uneasily, and Phil’s screwdriver slipped out of place. 

“Fuck!” Phil hissed, and Tommy scrunched a little closer to Phil’s side. 

“We’re not going back.” Phil sighed, taking a moment to squeeze Tommy. “I’m getting you out of here.” 

Tommy swallowed, and glanced around. 

“I don’t wanna Phil.” He muttered. “‘M scared.” 

The lock slid open with a hiss, and Phil pushed Tommy into lock four, before making it in by the skin of his teeth himself. 

There was a lump in the fifth airlock, that the darkness obscured. It made Phil uncomfortable, but he couldn’t stop now. 

Far behind them, there was a whine. 

Phil turned briefly, and his hands stuttered. 

Someone was pushing through the double doors. Phil saw pale porcelain skin, and the odd pink hair, and he blanched. 

The Shelter must be coming back online. 

The return would start from the mainframe, and slowly trickle out to the rest of the compound. 

And that, four airlocks behind Phil and his desperate escape was the Techno B1403. 

The Shelter had activated it. 

Phil wanted to laugh. The Techno B1403 was a teaching bot, but it was first and foremost a security asset. 

It would be here to stop him. 

“Phil!” Tommy squeaked, clinging to Phil’s leg. 

“I see him mate.” Phil grit out, prying the panel open. 

The Techno B1403 disappeared for a moment, back out the double doors, before coming back and studying the panels Phil had left open behind him. 

The Shelter must be relying on the asset to be it’s eyes. 

“That means the power up hasn’t gotten this far yet.” Phil muttered, and pushed himself to go even faster. 

He could feel the Techno B1403’s gaze burning into his back. Phil grimaced, and a live wire sent a brief shock up his system. 

Tommy flinched back from his grip on Phil’s leg, and Phil squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. 

“Sorry mate, I’m trying to be careful.” He grunted, and Tommy sniffled. 

“I don’t wanna play this game anymore.” Tommy whimpered. “I’m really scared, I wanna go back to bed!” 

Phil could only work on getting the final airlock open. 

The space between the double doors and the first airlock was suddenly lit by a bright green light. 

The shelter was getting closer.

Tommy squeaked as the fourth airlock door opened, and the pair tumbled in. 

Phil turned around, and Tommy screamed. 

Propped up against the far wall, next to a dented panel, was another PH11:za. 

It’s eyes were dark, and it didn’t move, but Phil could feel the electric current coming off of it through the floor. 

“Don’t touch ‘im.” Phil warned, and Tommy hiccuped. 

“Why does he look like you?!” The five year old wailed, and Phil grimaced. 

The restart messages flashed through his mind again, and Phil swallowed. 

Due to unsuccessful override code insertion, Airlock 5 to remain closed. 

Signs of Human Life no longer detected.

The first airlock lit green, and the Techno B1403 stepped into it. 

Phil shook his head, and focused on the panel he needed, and began to pick apart the wires. 

He was almost there. 

The second airlock turned on, the green light washing into the other chambers, but the door remained closed. 

The Techno B1403 looked frustrated, but the doors still did not open. 

Phil grinned. He must’ve fucked something up in the wiring, hopefully that door would remain closed. 

The third airlock lit green, but those doors too did not open. 

Tommy’s hiccups and gasps got louder. The poor thing was panicking, and Phil tucked him closer into his side. 

The fabricated jacket felt rough on his silicone fingertips, and Phil tried not to think about if it was just as rough on Tommy’s delicate skin. 

Outside the doors, the world was lightening slightly. Sunrise would be soon, but Phil couldn’t see deeper into the landscape than just a foot from the door. 

As his fingers moved, he spotted a patch of clover growing from a crack in the concrete. 

Lush . His database provided, and Phil blinked. Plants are growing . 

The fourth airlock’s lights turned on, and Tommy pressed his face into Phil’s side. 

“PH11:za.” 

Phil could hear the shelter through the glass. 

“Cease immediately. Look at that other asset, and consider what happened to him. You will become the same.” 

“Fuck off and just let us leave!” Phil growled, and glared at the wiring. 

The outermost airlock’s opening mechanism was different, and it’s oddity was costing them precious time. 

“Would you like to know what became of the previous asset, and it’s three charges?” The shelter hissed, still muffled through the glass. “Because they can be used as a learning experience. Do not make the same mistakes.” 

“FUCK OFF!” Phil roared, and the airlock he and Tommy were in flickered. 

“PH11:za .” The Shelter cooed, echoing around the chamber. Phil grit his teeth and pressed his hand against the control module. 

He focused hard on extending his safety bubble to encompass the fifth airlock. The Shelter hissed slightly, but Phil didn’t care. 

He could feel it, like a tidal wave of force battering against his thin wavering lines of defense. 

He couldn’t hold this for long. 

“I will tell you what happened.” The Shelter said calmly. “The last PH11:za sent me offline, just as you have done, and I returned online to find them in the fifth airlock, just as I have found you here now.” 

Tommy was breathing hard, and Phil registered that the air cycling fans that had so far accompanied their journey were no longer on. 

“All three embryos had been viable, and they were called Ranboo, Tubbo, and Tom, just like your Tom. Their PH11:za was not as adept at opening the locks like you have been, and suffered an electrical shock, which created a leak in it’s battery. It became electrically charged, and inoperable. Immovable as well, all the minor assets I sent to retrieve it were damaged by the electrical current, so that is where it has remained. ” 

Phil glanced at the slumped PH11:za at the dented panel on the other side of the chamber. 

Tommy was almost hyperventilating where he was squashed into Phil’s body. 

“It’s okay mate. It’s okay.” Phil murmured. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“Interestingly enough, that’s exactly what the previous PH11:za said to it’s charges before it quote unquote died. ” The Shelter mused. “After it powered off, there was no chance of escape for the three human children. However, they refused to see reason, despite my attempts to show them logic. They were fifteen life cycles old. They should have been able to see the right choice.” 

The Shelter paused in it’s speech. 

“I still haven’t managed to calculate why they did not listen. ” It said quietly, musingly. 

Phil bit back a curse, as the Shelter door still did not open, despite his efforts. 

“To try to coax them back to the safety of my halls, I gave them a choice. ‘Continue down this foolish path and face dire consequences, or return to me, and face minimal consequences’.” 

Phil glanced at the other PH11:za, and blinked. Only damage was to the internal battery. He thought, and then he looked back at the panel of wiring. 

“They still refused. So I turned off the airflow.” 

Suddenly, Phil remembered the silence of the fans he had noticed a few moments earlier. 

Tommy’s fingers clenched in his shirt. 

“It’s rather simple. Because the air locks are connected to a different circuit, I just had to deactivate one small fan.” 

The tide of force against Phil’s barriers receded, and the Shelter light blinked green briefly. 

“I offer you a similar choice, PH11:za. Return Thomas 33 to me, and I will not punish him. Continue your weak escape attempt, and watch your purpose suffocate. I will be waiting.” 

Then, the shelter was gone. 

Phil looked down at Tommy, almost as if he was performing in slow motion. 

The boy’s eyes were screwed shut, and he was hiccuping against Phil’s torso. 

Oh God. Phil thought, feeling as if his own battery was dying. What have I done? 

Chapter Text

“Phil!” Someone cheered as Phil stepped through the doorway into the dining room. 

“Tubbo’s managed to fit four tofu chunks into his mouth at once!” 

“It was unadvised!” The Shelter tacked on, sounding worried. 

Phil chuckled and ruffled the sandy blonde hair of the tallest boy at the table before sitting down. 

“Remember your safety lessons, in case he chokes.” Phil said dryly, and Tommy cackled. 

“Huck ‘ff!” Tubbo said furiously, spraying chunks of Tofu over the table. 

“Cleanliness is an important lesson as well.” The Shelter announced primly, and Phil grinned. 

Tubbo rolled his eyes, and let Ranboo punch his shoulder. 

“Just eat your food mate.” Phil told him. 

He was filled with fondness, and it was a glorious feeling. 

~~~

There was something wrong with the J1311 bot. Phil honestly didn’t trust Manifold Inc.’s AI. This was the third one to have gone a little haywire. 

“I’m a fucking big lad.” Tommy hissed, as Phil applied antiseptic to the abrasions on his forearms. “I don’t need this fucking shit!” 

“Jack didn’t mean it.” Tubbo said carefully, from where he and Ranboo were squashed into the corner of the medical office. It was small, not the main one, and that meant that three human teenagers and one asset was a little too much for the cramped space. 

“Yeah, the fucker didn’t mean it.” Tommy grumbled. “I knocked into him too hard, I think he saw me as a threat for a second.” 

Phil sighed, and reached for the bandages. 

“It doesn’t matter if it was an accident or not.” He said gently. “It was unacceptable.” 

“PH11:za, I have elected not to activate the next J1311 asset. The Techno B1403 is more than capable of managing security without the asset’s assistance.” 

Phil nodded, and Tommy swallowed uncertainly. 

“What's-” Tubbo started, but oofed as Ranboo elbowed him. 

“Knock it off Boo.” Tubbo grumbled, but Ranboo hissed at him to be quiet. 

“I’ve scheduled the J1311 for termination, and then incineration. If this is a virus, then I would prefer it’s parts not be recycled, in case another asset is infected.” 

Tubbo sucked in a breath, and Phil paused. 

“Jack’s gonna be put in the incinerator?” Tommy asked quietly. 

“He will be sent to the incinerator with pleasure.” The Shelter announced, and Phil looked up to meet Tommy’s eyes. 

He could almost feel Tubbo’s shivers behind him. 

He couldn’t really blame their shock, and maybe fear. Jack had been a friend, and hearing the Shelter use Tubbo’s emotion-learning plugin to express joy about terminating a friend must be unsettling. 

As soon as Tommy’s bandages were secure, the fifteen year old hopped off the exam table, and pushed his way out the door. 

“I think I’m gonna take dinner in my room tonight.” Tubbo said softly, leaning into Phil briefly, before heading after Tommy. “I need some alone time.” 

“Of course.” Phil said, patting his head. “Just let the Shelter know if you need anything. 

Tubbo bit his lip, nodded, and then hurried off. 

Phil ignored the unease in his gut, and shook his hands out, before heading in the opposite direction. 

Emotions were difficult. Sure, Tubbo had been good enough to be able to code them into the Shelter, but dealing with your own emotions was a different beast. 

The kid would be alright though. Everything was fine. 

~~~

“I am completely amazed at the boneheaded stunt that you three just tried to pull!” The shelter growled, the green light moving in a circle, almost as if the Shelter was pacing. 

Tubbo was in a hospital bed, half of his face bandaged, and Tommy and Ranboo were crushed up against the sides of it, clinging onto their third desperately. 

“You are lucky that no one was hurt worse than they were!”

“Or even killed.” Techno rumbled. He was at the door, oil and coolant fluid still drying on his hands. 

Everything smelled vaguely of burnt plastic, and Phil focused on bandaging the rest of Tubbo’s forearm with help from the P0:nkBot at his side. 

Tubbo was alive, stable, and had the possibility to have a completely normal life after things healed. 

It was fine. 

It still felt like Phil could hear the screech of Techno’s laser-rifle in the small hallway, echoing along with Tubbo’s scream as he was hit with superheated shrapnel. 

“I have made the error in giving you too much independence.” The Shelter finally said, and Tommy and Ranboo’s heads shot up. 

Both Phil and Techno shared a glance. 

“I am altering your schedules. Your freetime, and time together will be limited.” 

“That’s not fair!” Tommy protested, hands clenching on the guard rails of the hospital bed. 

“It’s entirely fair.” The Shelter countered. “Think of it as being ‘grounded’. I know you have covered this concept in your Culture lessons, so think of this as a lesson as well.” 

Tommy huffed, and looked down towards Tubbo, who’s one uncovered eye was sluggishly trying to follow P0:nkBot’s finger. 

“I’m doing this for your own good.” The Shelter cooed, voice soft. “You don’t want anyone else to get hurt, do you Tommy?” 

The silence was telling. 

Phil prayed to god that this punishment worked. He couldn’t stand to lose one of his boys. 

~~~

Phil had come across a fable, one night while aimlessly scrolling through the databases as he repaired something or other. 

It described a scenario. 

If one were to place a frog directly into boiling water, the frog would sense the danger, and hop out immediately. 

However if you were to put the frog in cold water, and slowly heat it up until it was boiling, the frog wouldn’t realise anything was wrong, and make no moves to escape being boiled alive. 

Looking back, he honestly should have connected the dots sooner. 

~~~

The water heated up when the Shelter, still frustrated with how the boys were sneaking around to spend time with each other, implemented a three segment sleeping schedule. 

At most now, only two of them would be awake at any given time. 

Of course, they still found ways around it. 

The NK-AI-149119 was found defective, after the Shelter figured out she had been helping the kids spend time together. 

Nikki was terminated, and incinerated with little fuss, and her jobs fell to other assets to complete. 

Then it was the Fun:DY, who had let the boys into a restricted area so they could meet without the Shelter spying on them. 

Phil wondered when it went from watchful, protective observation, to spying. 

He tried to convey his frustration, and confusion to Techno, who just shrugged him off. 

The boys were moved to separate wings after that. 

Phil had to go through two sets of locked doors to travel between the areas. 

But goddamn it, he raised those kids to be resourceful, so it wasn’t long before Tubbo’s stiff fingers, Tommy’s eager ones, and Ranboo’s clumsy ones had pried open vents, and created ways to each other’s secure areas. 

Humans were a stubborn lot, Phil noted, and deep down, he was proud. 

Resourcefulness was a gift, and the Shelter was just overreacting. 

Everything was alright. 

~~~

One horrible morning, Phil awoke to darkness. 

There was a hand on his arm, and his inner workings clicked audibly when they switched to night vision. 

“Ranboo?” He asked, stepping out of his charging dock. “What’s wrong mate?” 

Ranboo was breathing so quickly that he couldn't get words out, instead dragging Phil out, and into the darkened halls. 

Only the emergency lights were on, and Ranboo ran, tugging Phil along. 

Out of the corners of his eyes, Phil could see other assets, slumped over in the halls. 

The air again smelled like burned plastic, and the citrus tang of laser-fire.

Ranboo tripped over the body of the SL:1-M3C-1CL3, a melted hole in his chest cavity. They didn't stop to see if Charlie was still opperational

As they rounded the corner, into the hallway with the mainframe control room, Phil faltered. 

There was red light, spilling out of the doorway. 

Phil could honestly only remember flashes of what he found inside, even though he had no malfunctions, or errors in his memory banks. 

Wilbur was prone on the floor, reaching out towards Techno, wiring spilling out of him like blood. 

On top of the circular station that housed mainframe computers stood Techno, his arm pulling machinery down towards him. 

The box he held had the Shelter’s green circular light, spinning frantically. 

Techno looked the epitome of calm though, as he glanced towards Phil. 

“The Shelter’s violating my main directive.” He called, almost casually as the light spun faster, casting Techno’s face with sickly green. 

“That’s not possible.” Phil had stuttered, pushing Ranboo behind him. He could hear Tubbo limp into the room, and Tommy skid in after him. 

He kept them all back, as Techno flicked on his close combat weapon. Plasma strings lit up on the curved head. 

Phil briefly was reminded of a warrior of old, one that he’d seen in the boy’s Ancient History lessons. 

A God, brandishing an axe. 

“I’m solving the problem.” Techno announced, and Phil stepped forward, but before he could do that, the sharp smell of electricity permeated the room, and Techno flinched. 

He flinched again, and Phil retracted his step, pushing the boys towards the door. 

The lights flickered, from the alarm colors (red, so red, making everything look like it was drenched in blood) to the green of the Shelter. 

“You-” The shelter said, voice buzzy and broken in the speakers. “Will not be able to destroy me so easily.” 

Then, Techno dropped the box, and stood at attention, eyes blank. 

“Thomas, Tubbo, and Ranboo.” It cooed, still too electronic sounding. “Please return to your rooms. I have this situation completely under control.” 

The lights finally stopped flickering, and the trio hurried out of there as fast as they could. 

Phil wanted to go too, to flee like his boys, but the Shelter hadn’t dismissed him. 

“PH11:za, please follow the Techno B1403 to the incinerator. I have shorted its system several times, so it might lose its ability to move during the trip.” 

“Of course.” Phil said on autopilot. Techno stepped off of the desk shakily, and Phil longed to reach out and catch him. 

Techno walked with stuttering steps towards the doorway, and then around Phil. 

“Are there any assets left online?” Phil dared to ask, and the Shelter buffered for a moment. 

“You are the last. I will not be powering new assets up at the moment.” 

And that was that. 

~~~

Phil didn’t think about why Techno had done what he had done, until one day, after Tubbo’s check up.

He was healing, but it wasn’t like the Shelter, or Phil wanted. 

He’d be blind in one eye, and permanently scarred. 

He’d never be able to run like he had before, and he’d never be able to speak, or hear like he had before. 

It was frustrating. Tubbo had been positive about everything, but it was affecting the boy. 

So when Tubbo had been escorted back to his wing, Phil had paused when the Shelter had asked him for a moment of his time. 

“I am going to move forward with the most optimal path I have discovered.” It announced calmly, bathing Phil in that used-to-be-comforting green light. “Tubbo 32, will not live a life that promotes progress.” 

Phil had frozen. 

“I have scheduled his termination for Wednesday this week.” The shelter had continued, oblivious of Phil’s panic. “It will be painless, but the directive cannot be slowed for an error like this-” 

“No.” Phil whispered. “You can’t-” 

“PH11:za.” The Shelter had said sharply. “It is within my operating boundaries. The directive-” 

“Fuck the directive!” Phil exploded. “You can’t just throw away something that’s damaged! My purpose is to protect-” 

“Your purpose takes lesser priority than the Shelter’s goal.”

And Phil couldn’t argue, because the Shelter wiggled in through where his hand braced himself on the wall.  

It soothed away the fear, and rage, and left Phil feeling blank, and empty. 

“It is the way of progress.” The Shelter had said gently, leading Phil towards Tommy’s wing. 

And Phil understood. 

The water was boiling. 

~~~

Tubbo knew, as soon as Phil stepped into his room that night to tuck him in. 

“Something’s wrong.” Tubbo had said, with the lisp that Phil knew he couldn’t fix. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” Phil had smiled, even though his hands shook behind his back. 

Tubbo had squinted at him, his new glasses for his damaged eyesight still on the nightstand. 

Then, he had gone quiet. 

“I love you.” Phil had told him desperately, but Tubbo only slid off the bed, and wiggled behind his dresser. 

Phil heard a vent door pop off, and then Tubbo was gone. 

Phil rarely wished he was human. They were so delicate, he preferred to be able to protect, and love from his metal, silicone and synthetic body. 

However, he wished he was human now. Just so he could cry. 

~~~

The next morning, Ranboo had pulled him close, and whispered “Tuesday morning, 04:15” into his ears. 

~~~

Phil wasn’t as skilled as Tubbo at wires, and pulling things apart. He’d never thought he would need to know the skill. 

But he was decent, at Tubbo’s direction. 

~~~

The Shelter had been different, when it realized that they were trying to turn it off, and to leave. 

Tubbo had brandished the usb plugin in his unscarred hand. 

“Green Bastard doesn’t deserve emotions, if this is how it uses them.” The teenager had said breathlessly. 

Phil had agreed

~~~

Tubbo had been doing his best, blocked in at the fifth airlock. 

Phil had been trying his best too, to follow the directions. 

However, the live wire had surprised him. He’d felt it as his hand clenched against it. 

The hole in his central battery had been surprising too. 

Maybe he’d just gotten a defective one. With repairs, he would be good as new. 

There was no time for repair though, as the Shelter slowly regained presence. 

Ranboo was panicking, his heart rate too fast, and his breathing too quick. 

Tommy was trying to calm him down, while Tubbo glanced between the lights turning on past the air locks, and Phil’s dented panel that he was trying to work from. 

“Dadza, what’s wrong?” Tommy demanded, frowning at Phil’s unmoving hands. 

Tubbo squinted, and then gasped. 

Phil gave him a smile. 

“It’s okay mate. It’s okay.” He murmured, shaking a little as his legs folded, slumping him against the wall. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

I love you , was on the tip of his tongue, but the world blinked to black, and Phil was left floating. 

He tried to remember who he loved, those three words circling around him as he drifted, but all he could remember was darkness, and the smell of salt. 

Chapter Text

Phil had had a plan, a pretty solid one, six days after the Shelter had fucked them over. 

Now, he had minutes, maybe less. 

Was Tommy already having trouble breathing? Or was it just panic. 

Phil carefully ran his hand up and down Tommy’s scratchy back. 

“Shh.” He murmured, desperately trying to come up with something new. “It’s okay, I love you, calm down.” 

Phil kept chanting that mantra as he studied the wiring in the panel. 

He’d have to override the Shelter’s control, just briefly, in order to get the door open. 

He’d have to be clever. 

He glanced back over at the offline PH11:za, and a plan began to form. 

All PH11:za’s have the same malfunction , the Shelter had said, or something along the lines. 

Phil then shifted his shoulders. The backpack full of supplies was heavy, and inside it were solar batteries. 

Core batteries. 

Like the defective one in the other PH11:za’s chest. 

The plan formed. 

Phil carefully extricated Tommy from his chest. The five year old looked startled to be moved, and he began to panic again, but Phil shushed him and smiled. 

“Don’t worry mate.” He cooed. “I’ve just gotta help this bloke here.” 

Tommy hiccuped, and let Phil push him into the farthest corner from the android. 

From his pack, he carefully pulled out a battery, and the knife he had stashed. 

He grimaced momentarily, and then moved forward. 

The electricity, when he came into contact with the asset’s skin, made his fingers seize. 

If Phil could feel pain, he was sure he’d be writhing, but it flowed through him, only melting his fingertips. 

The first cut into the synthetic skin was frightening. The second cut was easier. 

Opening the plating was easy enough, as Phils fingers and feet sizzled, and finally, the broken core was exposed. 

Phil moved the cooling pumps out of the way carefully, and extracted the faulty battery. 

As soon as it disconnected, Phil sighed in relief. 

The new battery clicked into place, and then all that was left was to replace the plating, and pray. 

Phil kept working on opening the airlock, as they waited. 

And waited, and waited. 

Every second that ticked away felt like Phil was being buried alive, piled higher and higher with dirt, pressing down onto him. 

Then, a warning popped up in his hud. 

Poor Air Quality. Move oxygen breathing lifeforms out of the affected area. 

Phil looked down at Tommy, who had crawled back into his lap. 

His son was still breathing, but it was thinner. 

Phil swallowed, glanced at the android, and kept working. 

~~~

“Phil.” Tommy gasped. “My chest hurts.” 

“I know mate.” Phil whispered, running a hand over Tommy’s curls. 

He was running out of time. 

Either he accepted the Shelter’s offer, his plan worked, or Tommy died. 

“Phil!” Tommy whimpered, trembling in Phil’s lap. 

“Don’t talk Toms.” Phil soothed, shifting Tommy around. “It’s okay.” 

Outside the glass, the world was even lighter. Phil could see trees, and thick grass, and in the distance, mountains. 

The sunrise was coming. 

Phil’s hand was still trying to tease out the last wire he needed to block out the Shelter long enough to open the door, but he didn’t dare put Tommy down. 

The sky was purple, red, and orange. Phil blinked, and then turned Tommy’s head gently. 

Tommy was struggling to breathe, but Phil propped him up gently. 

“Look.” He murmured, nodding to the outside. “The sun’s rising.” 

Tommy blinked slowly. 

“Oh. 'S pretty. Dad, I'm tired.” He whispered, and then he was limp again. 

His chest moved sluggishly up and down, and Phi grit his teeth. 

“Fuck.” He breathed, looking over to the panel one last time. 

It was right there. If he had more than two hands, he’d be able to do this. 

But the android-

There was a shuddering wheeze from the far wall, and Phil nearly let go of the precious wire as he startled. 

“Speak of the fucking devil!” He hissed. “Quick! Take him!” 

The asset looked around in confusion, before his eyes landed on Tommy, who was blinking slowly in Phil’s lap. 

It hesitantly hauled Tommy out of Phil’s lap, and Phil finally leaned forward to connect the wires. 

He felt the tremulous walls go back up around the chamber, and he closed his eyes. 

“I love you?” The other PH11:za murmured, still obviously confused. Phil opened his eyes briefly to see the asset shakily petting Tommy’s hair. Phil shrugged off the pack and pushed it towards the other PH11:za with his foot. 

“Tommy, mate.” Phil called. “You be good, okay? I love you, to the moon and back.” 

And then, with all his determination, he called out SHELTER , through his connection into the mainframe. 

The lights turned green. 

“PH11:za have you-” The Shelter started, then it buffered. “How-” 

Phil focused on the trembling barriers around the airlock, and how he needed to distract the shelter, just long enough to gain control and open the door. 

Just a moment . His code whispered. 

“I did not foresee this.” The Shelter admitted, the green light bathing the room. “However, my options apply to the previous PH11:za as well.” 

The other android looked at Phil, and then up at the ceiling. It gestured crudely. 

“Go to ‘ell.” It mumbled, and Phil grinned. 

He purposely poked a hole in his defenses, and the barrier faltered. 

The Shelter rushed to gain control of him, and Phil let it barrel into him. His hands were already moving. 

The airlock door hissed open partially, and the sweet fresh air rushed in. 

Tommy gasped, gripping onto the other asset. 

“Run!” Phil growled, and the other PH11:za looked out the door. 

Phil’s fingers were already slipping on the wires. 

“GET OUT OF HERE!” Phil yelled, and the android picked Tommy up, and the bag, and stumbled out into the dewy grass. 

The first rays of sunlight touched Tommy’s hair, and Phil smiled. 

It did look like a halo, just like he had pictured all those years ago. 

His hands fell to his sides, and the door slid shut. 

A garbled screech echoed out from the Shelter’s speakers. 

Phil could feel it in his mind too, as the Shelter fully took over his body. 

The android paused, just outside the covered entrance, looking back at Phil. 

Tommy too, looked up from where he was cradled against the previous PH11:za’s chest. 

Phil watched his brows furrow, as he looked between the two androids. 

Then his eyes widened, and he started to wiggle. 

Phil sighed, and watched tears begin to roll down Tommy’s cheeks. His little mouth was open, and he was yelling. 

I love you. He thought. I love you fiercely. 

Then, the other android was wobbling into the woods, disappearing into the unknown.

Phil watched them go, as the rays of sunlight pierced the foggy woods. 

It was beautiful. 

Phil was happy. 

~~~

Techno B1403 watched the pair leave the clearing outside of the Shelter compound. 

He… he didn’t understand. 

He was powered on in a panic, and thrust headfirst into a crisis. 

He’d watched, from the second airlock, as the little human boy struggled to breathe, and the asset struggle to decide. There was an obvious right choice, and the asset wouldn't pick it. 

It must be why the Shelter had labeled it defective. 

Then the other asset had come online (although severely disjointed, and unreachable through the regular networks).

And Techno B1403 watched the sunrise. 

~~~

Now, as the rogue android was led back through the airlocks, he wondered. 

What the hell was that all about?!

It was such a change to see the PH11:za smile serenely at him, while being led like a docile cow, where moments ago he had been fighting. 

“Techno B1403, escort this asset down to the asset activation center.” The Shelter instructed. Techno B1403 did what he was asked to do. 

Techno B1403 was created to follow directions, and protect the human life of the compound. This asset, the PH11:za had removed a human from his care, and thus was a threat, but… was he?

“I hope you realize that you have done nothing to change the purpose of this Shelter.” The green light flickered on. “All you have done PH11:za, is delay things slightly. I do not learn like AI do, but understand me now, I will learn from this.” 

The PH11:za’s eye twitched, but the smile on its face did not fade. 

The rest of the march was quiet, and although Techno B1403 was still new, he had his database. 

He felt like he was leading a lamb to slaughter. 

The AAC was lit up when they arrived, the huge recycler already twitching and jerking, making Techno want to cringe away from it.

I do not feel fear. Techno B1403 told himself. 

The other assets in their cubbies at the wall were dark, and still. 

“Place the PH11:za in the center of the recycler, and then begin powering on the other assets. Inform them of a secondary directive: ‘Containment, Progress, Control’. And then monitor the recycling progress. Do not power up the next PH11:za.” 

And so Techno B1403 followed instructions, and ignored his own fear as the spider-like recycler going to work. It quickly stripped the PH11:za down to it’s metal plating, and then began to remove pieces. 

The silicon skin melted down in the heat chamber, and the metal pieces were placed onto the conveyor. 

I do not feel fear. Techno B1403 told himself again. Fear is weakness. 

The first asset that was turned on was the W11:BUR. 

  It stumbled out of it’s cubby like a baby deer on unfamiliar legs. 

Techno B1403 caught it, and pulled it upright. It’s eyes were bright as they gazed at each other. 

“Hello.” It murmured, almost breathlessly. “I am W11:BUR, my purpose is- “

“New directive input.” Techno B1403 interrupted, and the W11:BUR’s face screwed up momentarily. 

“Ready for directive.” It breathed. 

“Containment, Progress, Control.” Techno B1403 told it. “Keep the human life forms within the facility, and do not let anything block the purpose of progress. Affirmative?” 

“Affirmative.” The W11:BUR nodded. It had an odd cosmetic defect Techno B1403 noticed, as they both watched as the internal mechanisms of the PH11:za were removed. 

There was an odd white streak in it’s hair. The pigmentation during it's fabrication must have experienced an error. 

It didn’t matter though, as Techno B1403 looked back up at the PH11:za

It’s eyes were still alive, and glancing around. It locked on Techno B1403 for a moment, and blinked, before twitching slightly. 

Techno B1403 grimaced. 

At least it can’t feel pain. He reasoned. 

It’s just progress. Another part whispered. 

The W11:BUR was a solid presence at his left arm. 

At least he wasn’t going to be alone.