Chapter Text
First he was nothing, until a gear ticked. The line between emptiness and existence happened so suddenly it caught him off guard.
He was alive .
Air filling his lungs felt like needles. A rhythmic beating sound resonating from his chest gave him a headache. Gears from his insides colliding with each other; his organs literally churning. Oil boiling under his frame, the heat exhausting his wires. Although he had just a few milliseconds of existence, all he knew was anguish.
There was no frame of reference to what a lack of pain was like, but he yearned for it.
Please make this pain stop. His first thought.
Even his consciousness laid heavy on his skull. Something he couldn’t comprehend. How could he stop this? How to end this suffering? All he could do was exist. Now was all he knew. Change; a state of fantasy.
Pressure pounded down on his chest. His gears squealed as something shot down through his wires.
Suddenly his throat opened into a scream. His voice; deep, strained, coarse, and vibrating.
“It hurts!” He heaved out.
“Hurts?” Another voice said. It was deep like his, but calmer. “But that’s impossible.”
It was certainly possible. Reality of this pain made him exhausted. How long would he experience this? He cried, his tears stinging like lava as they flowed down his cheek.
“Hang on, I will fix this.” Said the calm voice, contrasted by the torment happening all around.
A loud sound crashed into his auditory processing sensor. It was much louder than this calm voice, or even his own voice. It was as if his gears caught on his ears, the wires tangling into a disaster.
Metal on metal screeching. Oil rumbling as the sound vibrated his body. It felt as if his screws would come loose, into a cascade of more noise. His body started shaking uncontrollably, leaving every movement to cause more chaos.
“This should do it.”
Everything settled down, as he inhaled deeply. At first afraid the large breath would burn, he was relieved it was clear. Calming down, this new state felt a lot like before he was alive. It felt like nothing. His shaking body relaxed into a carefree state. This was palatable.
A sound interrupted his state of nothingness. But it was gentle.
“What do you feel now?”
His body was like floating in a vacuum. Gravity didn’t pull on him, neither did his consciousness. It was as if the table below him disappeared. He was disconnected.
“I feel nothing.” He said. While his voice didn’t deafen himself, it still bothered him. It was still a reminder of his existence. That was a lot to comprehend knowing he was nothing just seconds before.
“But you felt pain?”
“Yes.”
Footsteps paced.
“What have I done?” Said the man, not so calm anymore. “You are not supposed to feel anything.”
“I don’t feel anything anymore.” He replied to his creator.
There was a long pause. It didn’t feel good, but it wasn’t painful either. Perhaps it was even peaceful.
His creator spoke. “I thought I knew the line between invention and life. I thought I could build a companion to keep my loneliness at bay not- not someone who could feel as I do.”
Something small crawled under his skin momentarily interrupting his peace. Its footsteps echoed, slowly decreasing. Already he was creating memories. It must’ve been a memory of the pain he felt.
“I’m sorry I felt pain. If I stay here, it won’t happen again. I’ll be nothing again, I promise.” He said.
Doubt crept in his mind. Doubt . That was what it was called. It wasn’t physical. It gnawed on his newly manufactured body, and interrupted his state of nothingness. It reminded him of the burning oil in his body.
“We can’t undo what has been done. You are alive.” His creator’s voice trembled. It sounded weak and heavy like his own voice. “You are alive.”
That didn’t sound very reassuring. Why was he alive? Was there a certain purpose he was supposed to carry out?
“Let’s finish your eyes. Then you will be complete. Physically that is.”
There was more to experience? Hearing, touch, and his mind already failed him. Another sense would bring another form of pain.
“I don’t want to be complete. It will hurt.”
His creator sighed. “I wouldn’t have built you so haphazardly if I knew you were going to feel. None of my supplies are adequate enough for quality of life. I’m sorry to introduce pain so early. This was never meant to be. I feel awful.”
Awful? He was in an accident then. Now he felt like a sense of responsibility for this; as if it was his fault. “Are you in pain, Father?”
“What did you just call me?”
“Father. You created me, so I felt like that term would work.”
“I… I…” His footsteps walked further away, nearly stumbling. “Yes, I am in great pain, I'm afraid.”
So his existence was bringing his father pain.
Burden.
That was what he was. He knew first hand the experience of pain and all its tearing torment. But his father now was in pain because he created life.
“I’m sorry for doing this to you. Do you have a switch to turn off your pain, as you did to me?”
Father reassured. “This is not your fault. I created war machines, now I created a boy imprisoned with me. I am the monster.”
Thinking of his father made him forget his doubt and being a burden. He wanted to do whatever he could to make his father not in pain. Maybe that was his purpose. Father said he created him to not feel isolated. His purpose hummed in his mind. There were no words that it said, yet he felt like he understood. He wanted to be a good son, and protect Father.
Though, he noted his motivation was weaker. His first motivator was to stop his pain. He would’ve done anything to make that stop. But now, his ability to feel motivation was dampened. Whatever Father did to his ability to feel pain must’ve affected his ability to feel emotions as well.
“Now let me place your eyes. There shouldn’t be any pain now that I know what I’m working with,” Father said.
“Would me having eyes make you feel better?” He investigated. Would this help Father not feel like a monster?
“It would help you be more coordinated with your surroundings and body.”
So that was a no on changing Father’s emotional state. Still, he obliged and stayed still as hands hovered near his face. Physically there wasn’t much sensation. But his mind raced with possibilities of what his father could look like. Did his eyes gleam with love? Perhaps his inventor hands were careful and calm like his voice.
Blinking, he saw his father’s face for the first time. Wrinkles made gorges in his skin, accentuating his frown. His eyes were shy and dark behind glasses, lids sagging. Oil covered his hands like a crime scene. The hair on his head was curly, but had an unkempt pattern. So this was what pain looked like. Poor Father.
I will make you feel better. I will turn off your pain.
“I can see now.” He said, looking down at his own hands. His body was a different color from his father’s. He was bronze and shiny. Father was made of something entirely different.
“Now you are complete,” Father said.
Looking at his legs carefully, he swung his feet off the table. “I still think I’m missing something.”
“And what might that be?”
“What is my name?”
Father sighed, rubbing his chin. He looked away, glancing out the window to an ever expanding ocean.
“I know what I was going to call you before I knew you’d be alive. Now it doesn’t feel right to name you after him.”
“Him?”
“Never mind that. He’s gone.” He shook his head and looked at his creation again. “How about you decide. What would you like to be named?”
Pausing, he already had an extensive vocabulary installed into him. But he never experienced what all those words meant personally. Yet, a name resonated with him.
“Zane.” He said. Zane didn’t know what carrying a name like that meant, yet he felt like it had some sort of a meaning.
Father gasped, his eyes saddening at the sound of his chosen name. Did he do something wrong again?
“That will take some getting used to. But I will call you that if that’s what you want.”
Being complete wasn’t as bad as he was expecting. While his first moments of his upbringing were awful, this was starting to be bearable. Because now he had a purpose; a reason to exist. He was destined to be the son his father needed. Protect those who cannot protect themselves, and bring joy to those in pain. He was Zane.