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Another cycle, another iteration that hits yet another wall.
It's become an expected and regular routine for him and his kind. Every failed attempt at solving that oh so great problem they were created to solve not even surprising him anymore. It's been this way for a long time, even before the ancients abandoned them. But he and so many others were hard coded to never cease. To keep working to find any solution despite not being allowed or physically able to execute it for themselves even if they were to find it.
He can't stay angry though, that would lead him nowhere. This is the way life is and there is no changing it, might as well deal with it and just keep running in that hamster wheel that doesn't take him anywhere.
Even so, No Significant Harassment has taken upon himself to pick up a new fun hobby to make eternity a little less unbearably boring.
And although he technically isn't allowed to, his creators aren't here anymore to monitor what he does. He can do whatever he feels like, at least whatever his built-in taboos allow him.
Which includes Bioengineering! Specifically, modifying the cellular structure and morphophysiology of organic life. On occasion, integrating mechanical functions into his creations, but he prefers to stick to just the organic stuff.
He hasn't made anything functional or durable yet, just a few masses of living tissue and modified fauna that don't usually live past a cycle. It was just for fun, and he was still learning.
“Tell me about your recent project, any updates?”
Moon.
He enjoyed chatting and teasing with other Iterators, but he found himself drawn to just one. And he loves talking to her, and it seems she loves listening. His recent interest in Bioengineering being a regular topic in their casual conversations.
“The squirmer? Well it still exists to say the least.” He replied to her question. “Not much else though, I'm too scared of interfering while it's still in its embryonic stage. Still squirms, though!”
Moon chuckled “I'd hope so. Then it would be called ‘the squirmer’ for nothing!”
Although he lacked the facial mechanics to, he could feel himself smiling.
‘The squirmer’, a name Moon admirably gave his recent project, is supposed to be a new creature, taking the cellular structure of a Hazer and altering it physically and functionally to create something new. There is really no direction for his projects, just creating and changing things to see what happens, toying with life itself and playing God. How fitting!
Maybe someday he will find a use for his hobby.
Sig hummed contentedly. Moon, speaking through the live private voice broadcast, teased “‘Hmm’? You sound happy, but in an enamored way, not the usual comedian NSH way.”
Though he couldn't see it, and she couldn't express it even if he could, he could almost hear the smirk in her voice.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He flustered. “Am I not allowed to be content with being able to bond with my best friend?”
Moon laughed “You consider me a best friend? You sap!”
“You're rather teasy today. But no, not just a best friend. The best friend” He'd proudly state, letting his puppet's hands rest on its hips.
“Wow, what a charmer! I feel so honored.”
“Hah! I'm rubbing off on you! What happened to the Moon who would scold me for joking in public broadcasts?”
“Bah, I was way more authoritative then.” She countered “Plus, some of your jokes were rather inappropriate.”
Sig pressed “Admit it, you love me!”
“I love you like I love a chunk of slag stuck in my filters.” Moon scoffed humorously.
“You are only further proving my point!” He'd guffaw.
“Don't act like you're any better! I've got you practically wrapped around my finger.” Huffed Moon.
Flustered, Sig stuttered “What gives you that impression?” embarrassment creeping into his processors.
“Hmmm, let's see.” Moon paused like she was going through her database before continuing, “Well for one, you just admitted that I'm your only best friend. Not to mention that your longest chat sessions are with me, you often do things to get a positive reaction out of me, the others also tease you about your infatuation with me-”
“Okay!! I get it! You win, I wave my white flag in surrender.” Sig interrupted.
Moon laughed “You love me more than you even realize! You're a batfly and I'm your hive, you always mindlessly fly around me!”
“That metaphor makes no sense. Batflies don't mindlessly fly around their nests. They go from hive to hive, transporting nectar or hiding from predators” He'd deadpan.
“Yes, but they all do that instinctually, they are not consciously aware of what they do. Just like you!” Moon countered teasingly. Clearly his attempt to steer the conversation somewhere else didn't work.
Sig fondly shook his head. “Fine, I admit, I'm head over heels for you. Happy?”
She hummed “Very.”
…
“And I love you too, Sig. I'm grateful to be with you in this life we're stuck in.”
“...I wouldn't want to be stuck in this life with anyone else.” Said Sig.
Another countless cycles passed since then. His puppet’s buried in heaps of rubble and snow. From the outside, it almost appeared like his structure wasn't there, now a part of the ground creatures walked on. From the inside, He was unmoving, his own metallic corpse locking his withering puppet in place.
He couldn't see, he couldn't feel, and he couldn't operate. All he could do was reminisce. Despite his deteriorating memory, he held to a few specific ones like a lifeline. Now all he remembers is the love he had for the best friend he used to have and the anger he felt toward whatever led to her collapse.
He wished things turned out differently.
He wished he would have taken action sooner.
He wished she were with him a little longer, just until both their communication arrays naturally ceased to function.
But you can't always get what you want, he'd suppose.
A new cycle is unfolding, the old one rippling out until it tapers into nothing, as if it never existed. The Iterators and the stories of the people who created them being slowly but surely forgotten and lost to time.
He hopes that maybe, at least, he could see her again in an afterlife or in a new cycle or whatever, he isn't picky, just as long as he can hear her talk one last time.