Work Text:
V1 had a very simple goal. It wanted to live forever, or at least close to that.
And, theoretically, that was possible. It was a weapon fueled by blood, self-repairing, self-correcting, and self-aware. It had such fuel efficiency, every injury it dealt to another allowed it to deal a hundred more. As long as there was a fight to be had, it was unkillable.
Immortal.
Unstoppable.
The perfect killing machine.
But therein lies the hitch. It knew every aspect of its own form intimately, its weapons were as if extensions of itself, it knew exactly where its limits were. It had infinite destructive potential, but it could only do that as long as there was fuel. There needed to be blood to spill, and that resource was no longer renewable.
The only life left on earth was at best protozoan and at worst non-existent. The residents of Hell were already technically dead, couldn't reproduce even if they tried and were quickly being slaughtered by V1’s fellow machines, Heaven would likely be next, and once emptied the only blood in the universe would be the dwindling supply in its own tank.
The only way there could ever be more blood is if evolution hit the jackpot a second time, and that would be millions of years too late for V1. Its days were numbered, and it knew that. There were a limited number of fights to be had. It was on a timer.
Dying.
Slowing
Imperfect.
But V1 continued anyway. Because it wanted to live forever.