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What was not existing?
It's nothing but you don't have the conscience to know that, so is it really anything? Is it a snap of the fingers and suddenly you're awake again? Are you aware of the void you rest in? Can you comprehend non-existence? Is it truly not existing if you don't experience it?
Is it not existing if you're asleep? Is that simply a window where you are detached from the world?
Initiating reboot protocol...
Is not existing tied to your presence on the world?
Primary startup successful... initiating primary receptors...
Is your existence tied to your influence on the world around you? Is being present enough?
Primary receptors successful... initiating ocular modules in 3... 2... 1...
Light.
The primary component for sight. Light allows one to see through the reflection of light upon surfaces... if you are an organic life form.
The split second analysis flashed in their mind. A simple node of information.
Why did their eyes hurt?
I don't have eyes. My ocular receptors are compromised with foreign matter.
Soft whirrs accompanied the movement, taking in the surroundings.
Stone. Wood. Metal. Machinery... somehow it is familiar, but the data is corrupted... no, absent.
I know this.
A human sat before them, massaging their temples, chewing on the end of a pen.
An indication of stress. Or a habit.
How do I know this? I don't know this, but... I do?
They were short,
All humans are short.
With dark brown hair and a wearied look in their eyes.
Secondary receptors successful... activating motor controls in 3... 2...
Their body ignited with sensation, it felt... too much.
The whirring of metal in the distance shrieked through their audio receptors, the light was stark and just too bright..!
Everything was new, everything was being acknowledged. Their receptors were running like a conveyor belt of constant stimuli, acknowledging everything and sending it full speed into their memory bank. Information clashing together in silent screaming that couldn't be quelled.
"Too... TOO..!"
The human reached for a remote on the table, pressing a button.
The room plunged into darkness, the whirring muted to a mere hum.
Oh, that was much better.
In the quiet, their fingers twitched, a gentle whirr accompanying the careful movement.
Each digit had sensation, receptors dotted across the surface of the metal. Less so sensation, more a mental acknowledgment of contact. A feeling, without feeling.
"Hello."
Audio. A greeting.
"H... H ... Hello."
Their voice sounded dry, grating in their ears. Their audio module must be caked with dust.
"Do you know who I am?"
Scanning memory... error. Error. Memory compromised. Scanning facial recognition... error. Human.
"No."
The human made a soft noise,
Acknowledgement? Approval? Distaste? Error.
"Okay, that's good. How do you feel?"
I do not feel, I am a machine. I am... error. Absence of data.
"I do not feel. I am a machine."
"Yet the light was too much, how did it make you... respond?"
Bad.
"It... overloaded my receptors."
A light scratching ebbed through the darkness.
A small mammal? No... a pen is a writing utensil. The human is recording.
"Why do you... want to understand..?"
The human paused,
Thinking
"I want to know how you respond to certain stimuli."
"Why?"
Error. Why do I have to know? Why am I asking questions, I do not need to know, what is a question? Why do I need to-
"To see how you're functioning. A routine maintenance, in a way."
Ah. Yes.
The tension melted away, the warmth of understanding settling upon their shoulders.
Familiarity in a realm of the unfamiliar.
Routine maintenance check... preparing to initiate exoskeleton protocol...
"May I turn the lights on again?"
... alright.
"Yes."
Light, and then there was the human.
Male, approximately 20 years old... early maturity. Curious.
The grinding in their eyes had lessened as they drew in the room.
It was small, but littered with machine parts. A spark of familiarity flickered through their mind, a train of thought leading to a dead end.
Was that wall always there?
"Who... are you?" Their voice grated, static crackling through the modulator.
He frowned softly, brow puckering in a clear display of disapproval,
"Gotta fix your voice first."
Easy.
They relaxed back, clips and fastenings unscrewing in a puff of hydraulics as their outer shell slowly opened to reveal the tender inner circuits.
It was vulnerable, but the sense of familiarity felt warm. It was simple, a routine, in this startlingly new world.
How do I know so little? I could not have been programmed so frugally.
Through their eyes, they watched the human climb up a stepladder, reaching in with delicate tools to inch their face plate off and free up the debris from within their audio transmitter.
Humans don't do this, maintenance machines do.
"I'm Jiro. Pleasure to meet you, finally."
Something flashed across their mind, a recollection just out of reach. A split second of a spark of recognition, a memory, and then nothing.
"I... know you."
He froze, before carefully continuing his work,
"You don't. Not really. We met, briefly."
Grains of dirt rattled loose from the microphone cage, rumbling from their voice,
"I... see."
That spark was gone, but it didn't feel as important now.
Somehow, they knew this human, but their memory itched with familiarity to another.
Something so similar but just a little bit different. A little bit further out of reach.
"Who... am I?"
Careful fingers screwed the microphone back down, gaze fixed and studious,
"According to your serial number, you are an Alpha construct, monarch model, 'Reticle'. Third wave."
It sounded new, yet familiar. Like a puzzle piece slipping into its slot.
"I... see."
They shouldn't be curious, and yet they were.
"Okay, we're gonna try and move now, yeah? Tell me how it- how you respond."
Their plates closed over once again, with meticulous smoothness. Their fingers gripped the arms of the seat as they rose.
Balance modules initiated... activating propulsion systems...
A smooth stream of air funnelled from their base, a cushion their pointed lower half rested upon. It felt weird, like they were out of practise. They slipped slightly, gripping the chair to carefully maneuver themselves back to standing.
"How does that feel?" The human watched, holding a notebook. His eyes had gained a sparkle absent before.
I am a MACHINE and I do NOT FEEL.
They let out a low grumble, fingers warping the metal of the seat beneath their grip.
"I am... a machine. I do not feel."
"Sorry, how are you responding?"
Systems heating... 5% increase... 10% increase...
"I... I do not... I am an Alpha class machine... my balance..."
"You've been deactivated for multiple years," the human stepped up, offering an arm, "Your modules are still warming up."
"Why... was I deactivated?"
Alpha class... combat class... I am a fighter. No, a guardian? I... error.
"You... were damaged."
"I... should be easily fixed."
"No it... was mental."
UNPRECEDENTED. ERROR?!
"My circuits were damaged?"
The human,
Jiro.
Jiro looked pensive, brow furrowed and gaze low,
"No, your memory and your... circuits, I guess circuits fits. Those were damaged beyond repair, both physically and... inside."
Does not compute... error...
They faltered, Jiro catching their arm,
"I... was destroyed?"
He nodded, "that's what I've been working on. Look, who you were doesn't matter, it's what you choose to do now."
"But... if I am not who I was, then who am I?"
"Well, that's for you to find out."
Their circuits ran cold, receptors lowering to a faint hum.
Scanning for primary function... error... scanning for visual logs... error... scanning for audio logs... error... scanning... scanning... scanning.
Error.
It was... so quiet.
"Here."
Their attention snapped back, taking in the human's tiny hands holding onto one of their fingers.
They remembered something in that hand, but all they could see was the human holding onto them.
"If you're ready, we can expand your world a bit."
Right now they were sat in a void, any light, no matter how small, would be welcomed.
Yes.
"Yes."
~
They had waited a few hours, Jiro leaving to speak with someone else.
He said he didn't want them to feel overwhelmed again, so they waited until nightfall to venture beyond the wrought iron door.
The scratches in the walls were disconcerting. Fuelled by heavy emotion they gouged deep into the stone.
The machinery around was odd, most of it robot parts but some larger panels. Even circuit boards laid across the desk, the internal organs of a machine forcing their gaze away.
Robo models could do that, open themselves, but it felt strangely repulsive. Indecent to look upon the vulnerabilities of another machine.
Like guts.
A result of programming. Imitating human reactions to make my presence less disconcerting to -------... to -------... humans? Must be.
"Okay,"
The human... Jiro, had returned. He looked breathless, almost excited even.
"It's nightfall so you won't be overstimulated by the sun. Town is quiet too, the perfect time. Okay, I'm going to introduce you to someone. He's called Jack, and he's a Shadow."
"Understood."
The term settled in their mind, familiarity creating a warm fuzz around it.
They were simply things they'd see every now and again, and if Jiro was introducing them, they were the safe kind.
Jiro watched them, before smiling, "Great, let's go."
The door to the lab opened,
Hinged. Primitive.
Their balance felt better, easily traversing down the short corridoor lined with stone. It felt damp.
Jiro stayed a few paces ahead, his sly glances behind him not going unnoticed.
Another door opened, and a freshness washed over them.
Jiro led the way up the stone steps, but they were transfixed on the stars twinkling above them.
Stars. Balls of gas burning lightyears away... I know them, but I have no memory of them. I don't recall ever having a memory of them.
There were just so many . So many minute specks of distant stars, each roiling with a molten core burning in waves of infinite power crashing over one another.
Yet from here, they were so inconsequential.
I'm a machine, I don't feel... but this gives me the sensation of... being small.
"Okay, uhh... this is Jack."
A Shadow. An... odd one.
An almost comically deformed head, and a body of whirring gears shrouded in a spiked cloak. He was a machine, but with a strange otherness to him, not just because he was a Shadow either.
"Pleasure." Jack snapped a salute, one which they mirrored almost immediately.
Muscle memory, or... system memory.
"I am... Alpha construct, monarch model, 'Reticle', third wave."
Jack's jagged mouth opened with a sharp laugh, "we'll getcha a less formal name, buddy. Welcome to Monster Town! This is a lil' haven we've made for monsters who wanna live in peace."
It was primitive, houses made of wood with stone supports, some more complete than others. A larger structure stood further away, acting as a form of meeting ground.
Almost instinctively, their eyes zoomed in on a Poo Snake exiting the great hall, pinning it in their eyeline with a sharp reticle and whirring statistics in the corner of their vision.
Both their arms grabbed the air at their hips, outstretched before them.
Action incomplete... error... action... irrelevant? Action... incomplete...
"They're safe." Jack slipped into view, hands raised and clear, "anything within these walls, and kinda outside of it too, ain't gonna hurt you. They won't hurt us, so we don't hurt them, yeah?"
"... Yes."
"Great!" Jack made a gesture with his thumb,
Gratification motion.
This Shadow was... familiar, and yet they had never met, this they were sure of.
Other things, like Jiro and Shadows, they didn't remember, but there was this sensation in the back of their mind that deep down they did .
Yet there were other things that they just knew were something else entirely.
There were no memories attached, no familiar mental pathways mapping the network of their circuits, no familiar warmth of recollection.
It was new, the route cold but not in an unwelcome way. Machines didn't feel, but they were almost... excited. It was new and... they wanted to know more
He wanted to know more.
"So my deal here is," Jack swept his cloak back, spinning a rifle on the tip of their finger before bouncing it to rest against his hip, "I'm Monster Town's number one defender."
The rifle gleamed in the firelight, amber dancing across the metal body, sleek and deadly.
Cold metal. The smoothness of the wooden grip. The recoil adjustment in the wrists. Gunpowder. The satisfying pop of the magazine and the tinkling of shells hitting the floor. Zooming in inch by inch until the perfect shot fell into line. Waiting. Waiting in silence...
"Where's what?" Jack tilted his head.
"I... did not speak." His head cleared,
Error. Machines do not have heads. This is a human metaphor. A projection of human characteristics onto a machine in an attempt to understand it.
"You asked where something was-"
"I think maybe that's enough for today." Jiro swept the rifle back under his cloak, alarm snapping across Jack's features before he nodded,
"Oh yeah, too early to talk about defending and stuff, yeah?"
"What are you hiding from me?" His eyes narrowed, familiarity sparkling through his circuits.
A steadily growing warmth within them danced with tantalising aggression. Something about feeling this... heat within him felt so normal.
So good .
Jiro looked at Jack, who softly shook his head.
"I... wasn't completely honest about everything." Jiro sighed softly.
That pained look was back, fatigue etching his gaze,
"I've been attempting to rehabilitate you, to rework your programming from a combat machine."
"You want a defender, why is that so important?"
In the back of his mind, that gluttonous hunger for anger scratched. A sirens call, familiarity in a world where everything was strange and foreign.
"Because..." Jiro began, Jack placing a hand on his shoulder,
"This ain't a good idea."
"But we don't know unless we try! We've never got this far before."
He sighed softly, rubbing his temples, "You... are an incredible combat machine. Completely unique, you must have been bespoke. You have no idea how difficult it's been to try and rework your programming. You are from a millennia ago, where beings known to us as the Ancients lived."
Scanning... no memory... scanning...
"You might have known them as the Sojournans." Jiro continued and a spark of recognition ignited a blinding flash through his circuits.
"They... are dead?"
Jiro nodded softly, "this whole procedure is... painfully delicate. It's taken me three hundred and fourteen attempts to even get this close, and you're still struggling."
"Why can't I be who I am meant to be?"
Holsters. They had been holsters.
"Because, even though you were bespoke..." Jiro sighed, "your circuits and motherboard were... damaged. Deeply. So deeply it was almost a... sickness that afflicted you. An internal issue. With no more Ancients, and little information... fixing you seemed impossible."
"Why... couldn't I be-"
"Because you were fuckin' NUTS!" Jack threw his hands up, "you were fuckin' batshit crazy, even fuckin' SZABO was afraid of you, and he's your BOSS!!!"
SZABO... SZABO... MECHA GENERAL SZABO... OUR BRAIN... THE KEY TO US ALL...
"JACK!!!" Jiro snapped, forcing him back with a wave of his hand, "are you SERIOUS!? That was a STUPID thing to do!!!"
The Sojournans... all deceased... ownership passes to... error... error... who is my master?.. error... error...Why did Szabo imprison us? Why did Szabo abandon us??
US??.. ERROR... US... ERROR...
"Listen to me."
The human's hands, holding onto a single finger.
They were so small...
"Szabo wanted this. He entrusted me to help you and the others return to normal, to fix you all. He asked me cos he doesn't trust anyone else."
"Szabo... Imprisoned us!!!"
Sparks jolted from his eye, ocular display crackling as his circuits buckled and bent beneath the knowledge desperate to rush free.
"I... don't know why he did, but all I know now is that he's trying to make amends. He's sorry."
Sorry. An apology. A symbol of regret and a desire to make amends.
"If he's so sorry, why doesn't he say it to my FACE?!"
Jack twitched, the folds of his cloak rustling.
"He's not here because seeing him would send us back to square one," Jiro sighed, "just his name almost blew you up."
... He is correct. His logic is sound; exposing a machine with memory repairs to factors that could stimulate the repaired connections risks the repair being undone.
"Why..." His voice began to crackle, lowering to a gravelly hush, "are you helping me?"
Jiro looked taken aback, Jack's gaze turning to him as he struggled for a reply,
"Because... I trust Szabo."
"WHY... Do you trust that TRAITOR??"
His eye sparked and died,
Ocular module error detected, reverting visual display to second dimension.
"Because he's proved himself! Over and over!" Jiro suddenly snapped back, "He tries, and he can't undo what he's done, but he's trying! He's trying to make amends and he KNOWS loads of people don't trust him, for what he's done and for who he is! But he's trying, and I can understand that. I see he's trying, and I want to be at least the one person who's gonna give him a chance!"
Error... Irrational reasoning... memory banks absent... illogical decision... the evidence is against him and yet..?
The Sojournans are all gone... I... have no purpose.
I... do not belong in this world.
That warm bud nestled in his circuits, tempting and pulsing like a heart. The desire for war, conquest,
Rage.
It felt so good, so comforting, so familiar.
Nothing about this world was familiar.
Except Szabo.
His name, an anchor to what he used to be. The last shred of purpose he had to hold on to over this void.
The most logical progression, to initiate a complete system shutdown. Presence of a combat machine with no master is illogical, impractical.
Yet Szabo remained.
He had his own Shadow, who was the guardian of this town.
Monsters living like humans... illogical. Unnecessary.
And yet they did. They lived on because they wanted to.
They didn't have a purpose, and yet they persevered?
Szabo no longer had a master, and yet he existed still? Humans even valued him, an unprecedented turn of events.
The stars glinted above, the flickering flames of the torches around the town licking amber and red in the reflection of his armour.
His world had ended, in fire and blood and corruption.
Like the blinking of some great celestial being, the lid closed upon everything he knew, his world vanishing into darkness.
And as easily as an eye opened, the world had rolled into something new.
The ashes had already blown to the wind, but the stars still twinkled, the tide still rolled, life still lived.
It was a proposal, beckoning; he had nothing, but was faced with the prospect of everything, anything.
That sirens call of war seemed so quiet right now.
Illogical.
No. It is illogical to grasp to nothing! I have nothing! The Sojournans are dead, their empire destroyed, the world I knew died a millennia ago.
"Jiro." He bowed his head, the thoughts roiling through his circuits for an age, but only taking a second to process,
"I... commend your tenacity. I want you to fix me."
Jiro's eyes widened, listening intently.
"I... want time, to understand. I want you to let me rest... but do not reset me. I want to sleep for a... while."
Jiro nodded, "I can do that. Are you... responding correctly?"
"I... do not know." He rose up,
I am a machine...
"But someday... I might."
Jiro nodded, hands shivering with the roller coaster of emotions he was currently riding,
"I get it, thanks for... listening."
He lowered down, allowing Jiro to reach for the sleep button nestled on the back of his neck.
He would rest, and think.
"Rest well, Ku."
Ku... my name... a good name.
Initiating sleep mode... shutting down in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1…