Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“No, no sorry but that is not my concern I…what….? Well…how about you just grow some fucking balls and tell this creep to just fuck off…YES I know you’re a woman. You know where to kick him. FUCK!” I hung up. “For fuck’s sake, the youth today. No bloody backbone whatsoever.” I sigh as I had to tell another newbie to just DEAL with it.

They’re not in fucking high school anymore. This is REAL LIFE. I turned my gaze down to my co-worker and local tech-wiz Sabastian, who is not a tech-wiz by the way, that one was a joke. Instead, he is fiddling with his PC in hopes of getting it to work again after clicking a shady popup link even though I told him not too.

The guy only thinks with his penis, not his brain, which is why he's desperately trying to fiddle around with a screwdriver after it kept blue screening several times on bootup.

I sigh. “Sabastian, what the hell are you doing?” I ask.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to get this PC running again or my boss is going to kill me.” He retorts before finally getting the side panel off after like ten minutes of screwing around. Literally.

I shook my head. “No, you are not going to fix it like that.” I exclaim before pushing myself back and getting off my office chair in order to join him. “Give me that.” I snatch the screwdriver away from him.

“Hey!” He exclaims. “You don’t even know what I’m trying to do.” He protests.

“Then enlighten me.” I challenged. “How the hell are you going to fix this PC from blue screening after clicking the link of a fake porn site. You downloaded a virus dude; this has nothing to do with the hardware itself.” I point out, both with my words and the screwdriver.

“I know.” He confesses. “That is why I am trying to replace the PC’s SSD with this new one.” He shows me the SSD in question.

I look at him as if he's crazy. Which he is. “WHY!” I ask. “How the hell is swapping SSDs going to fix the PC? You’re just going to make it worse.” I pointed out again.

“Nope, this one has a fresh copy of Windows installed on it. So, it should work.” He replies.

I raise an eyebrow. “What…where the heck did you get that?” I ask.

“From Jack. During our lunch break. He told him what happened this morning and he quickly ran back to his office and gave me this. He said it’s his backup.” He explains.

Ahh, it all makes sense now. Jack, just as single as Sabastian over here, but also a lot more tech savvy. I think he used to be a Reddit moderator before getting hired. But that’s all I know. Either way, his plan is still stupid because that means he is just going to postpone his problem to a later date. I mean all of his work files are on his PC, and I’ll make sure to tell him that.

“But all of your files are on the old drive. This hardly fixes anything.” I point out…AGAIN.

He sighs. “I know, but at least the PC will work again. I’ll give the infected drive back to Jack later today before our shift is over. Come on, help me install this.” He gestures at the open tower next.

I give out a long sigh. “Fine. Then move aside.” I slightly push him out of the way while shifting closer.

“All of this just because you couldn’t control yourself.” I mumble to myself before reaching for the SSD inside the PC with the screwdriver and then…

*ZAAAAAAP*

I accidentally touched the motherboard with the screwdriver and everything suddenly turned white. I felt a sudden jolt going through my body and then….nothing. White replaced it with darkness as the world grew cold and silent. He was dumb enough to keep it plugged in didn’t he?

Great… now I’m unconscious or worse. Never thought I would die from electrocution. Let alone while at WORK.

 It's…kinda weird how I am still able to think while existing in what I can now only describe as oblivion. Is…this what dying feels like. Is this purgatory? Am I damned to now just exist in darkness for all eternity? It’s cold, really cold. I can’t feel anything besides the cold. Is this how I will spend eternity now? Is this my punishment for being a short-tempered dickhead and a corporate slave? I mean, I never expected myself to go to heaven, at least not with the way I carried myself throughout my life. But this…this feels lonely. Intentional. What have I done with my life?

I…wait…. Something is happening. It’s suddenly getting warmer. I can feel something pulling me in. Is this it? Am I finally getting pulled to the afterlife? Is this how it feels? Like the rushing of winds as I get rapidly pulled towards something? I can feel it becoming faster and faster. Pulling me, not falling, towards a certain direction. My sense of being expands as I… 

Wait…’Systems Online’? What? 'Systems Online'? WHAT? Written in neon green? Why is this the first thing I see flashing in front of me? Written in complete nonsense, in a language I’ve never seen before but somehow understand.

What the fuck…

Am I still dead?

“Yes, it’s working. It’s waking up.” I hear some distant voice say which just deepens my confusion.

Waking up? So…I didn’t die? Sabastian somehow managed to get his phone working and called for help? What a trooper. I need to make a mental note not to thank him once I get….

“Now it’s visual cortex should also be functional.”

….out of this…hospital….uhh.

Instead of a hospital room, I am greeted with a big square-shaped room with walls so bright it almost hurts to look, beige and covered with hexagons, and instead of a doctor, I came face to face with some weird mummy-looking dude in some fancy-looking robes and a giant golden bird mask on it's head.

Did I wake up in a furry hospital? What the fuck is going on? There is even a second guy just behind him. Just as weirdly clothed, but this time I can see…most of its actual head and…its blue…its fucking blue. Elongated face and deep purple eyes. All features a normal human shouldn’t have.

Seriously, where am I, what the fuck are these people, these…aliens?

“Good, good, they seem to be operating perfectly well. At least in its current ‘safe mode’ state.” The guy with the bird mask remarks while tapping on the tablet-like device he is holding. Humming to himself.

“Hmmm…all of its remaining systems are also A O.K. it seems. But let’s not overwhelm them.” He keeps talking before finally switching his attention back onto me. An act that made me flinch a little.

I must be tripping. The electricity must have…fried my brain or something.  

“Greetings, Iterator unit 10001-P, can you hear me?” The guy asks.

I don’t reply, way too disturbed and weirded out by all of this. Suddenly, a third member appears out of a random corner I wasn’t looking at. Looking just as ridiculous…maybe even more ridiculous than the guy standing in front of me, if that is even possible. Sporting much more colorful robes than the dude with a bird head, and even wearing what look like red and black striped jumpers underneath them? The guy was also sporting a massive golden mask which is weirdly shaped like front of a European truck, with muffler looking bits extending from the back of its mask with gems and other accessories dangling from them. Swaying dramatically from side to side whenever this clown moves or scratches their balls.

Also, they're hunched over. An indication of their age or just suffering from a really nasty back pain. Whatever, but what I don’t like about them is the energy this dude is giving off for just standing. Arrogant and completely full of themselves. Just like Karen.

“Uh… Iterator unit 10001-P? Can you…can you hear me?” I blinked when the guy repeated himself. This time, sounding concerned.

“Perceiving the Cosmos. What seems to be the holdup?” The old man with the truck mask demands. At least proving my suspicion about him. That being an arrogant dipshit. Also, he sounds like an old man with how raspy it sounds.

“Uh…I’m not that sure Your Eminence.” He addressed him with an air of respect. “Maybe they’re still processing their sudden ascent to consciousness, or perhaps there are still some design kinks we might have overlooked. As unlikely as that may seem.” He apologizes.

He huffs. “Design kinks or not. Get them working as fast as possible. The people are waiting anxiously for results, and so am I. You and your engineers promised a great many things. Prosperity, progress, an easier path to ascension. I speak for the entire priesthood by saying ‘we’ve waited long enough’. We’ve already poured far too many of these projects for them to fail. This has to work.” He states/orders.

“Uh…of course your Eminence.” He replies calmly, though I can still make out a hint of annoyance behind his tone.

“Alright, one more time. Raise your hands if you are conscious or not. Like this.” The states before raising his right arm.

I just continue to stare at him. Still trying to process what the hell is going on here. “What the…fuck?” Is all I managed to get out, making the guy in front of me flinch and the old man next to him glare behind his mask. I don’t know how I know, but I just know he is giving me the stink eye right now.

Bird head sighs. “Ok, maybe we need to also boot up the other internal system. Assistant!” He calls out before turning his attention to the guy to his left. The one who so far stayed quiet the entire time.

“Yes, Headmaster Perceiving the Cosmos.” He announces. Wait…That’s his name?

“Check if the other systems are ready to go?” He requests.

The “assistant” nods before looking down onto a similar-looking tablet and tapping a few things on it. “All seems clear. Neural nodes are active and all systems read green We are ready for further procedures.” He confirms.

He nods, “Good, then let’s start with increasing the power input going through its coral circuits and its occipital neural stratum. Then will align the electrical frequency of its Memory Conflux with the rest of its neural network and logic systems. Let’s see if that will help.” He announces while again tapping around on his tablet.

My confusion slowly gives way to a sense of dread when I’m suddenly flooded with a wave of sensations I cannot describe. Like this room…I can suddenly feel this room and what’s beyond it. I can feel my thoughts becoming…faster? Clearer? Being able to split? Like a perfectly engineered pipe system where water flows smoothly and evenly through various sub-pipes, unobstructed, unhindered, or something like that. I…I don’t know how else to explain it. But then came the flood, and my eyes widened in both shock and pure mayhem. Information. A FLOOD of information. A torrent. A Tsunami. Ideas…T-things I never knew of but now I suddenly do. WORDS. WRITING. CONCEPTS. MATHEMATICS. ENGINEERING. THE GREAT CYCLE. All flooding my very being. IMAGES, VOICES, all wrestling for dominance, for ATTENTION. LIKE trying to shove a whole bus through a small surgical syringe. It’s too MUCH. I can feel… I could just…JUST WANT TO…

“FUUUUUUUCK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” I scream while clutching my head. “MAKE IT FUCKING STOOOOOOOP!!!” I scream in absolute agony.

“W-What’s going ON!” I somehow managed to make out the old man’s voice despite the literal tsunami of information flooding my very being.

Error and Overload warnings were also blaring inside my head, like loud sirens blaring alongside all of the crap that is fighting for dominance inside my skull. The room started to shake, or maybe I was trembling. Either way I don’t care.

“QUICK! SHUT EVERYTHING DOWN!” I hear a voice say.

“I CAN’T, HEADMASTER! THE SYSTEMS ARE TOO OVERLOADED AT THE MOMENT!”

“HEADMASTER! What is going on!” I again could make out the old man’s voice. At this point I just couldn’t take it anymore as I lost my footing and just collapsed onto the floor. My arms and legs locked up as I could no longer move. Just scream. The chaos inside my head was too much. The world just becomes a maelstrom of noise and sensations. I’m at the brink of losing my mind.

“LOWER THE ENERGY FREQUENCY BACK DOWN TO 15 PERCENT! THAT SHOULD HOPEFULLY STABILIZE THINGS!”

After a few more moments of pure mental torture, things started to calm down as the influx of information and sensory overload slowly trickled to a crawl. It wasn't completely gone but at least my mind wasn’t fighting itself anymore. Peace. Well, as much peace as I can ask for.

I just laid there, panting, a simple act which should normally help me to calm down, but is made void at the fact of how uncanny it feels. I cannot feel myself breathe or even hear it; I can’t even feel or hear my own heartbeat despite the ordeal I just went through. Panic quickly crept back in as I gaze down at my blue metallic-looking hands. Four fingers, smooth, and with visible metallic joints.

What the hell?! My arms? What happened to THEM!!??

“Systems have somewhat stabilized but I am still getting a bunch of error messages on all fronts.” The assistant blurs out with a sigh. Though he is still on edge, judging by his tone.

“Headmaster Perceiving the Cosmos. Explain what in the voids name has happened?” The old guy demanded, not as worried as the assistant. But rather inpatient and annoyed.

“I…am not entirely sure, your Eminence. Perhaps a slight misjudgment on my part.” He replies, careful, but still recovering from the ordeal which just happened.

At this point I decided to just shut these creatures out of mind to put more focus on my existential crisis. Like what the fuck has happened to ME? Why do my arms and legs, nay, my whole body looks so metallic, look so synthetic? Am I a robot? A Robot dressed in -what I can describe as- some fancy looking purple robes with golden highlights at the end of its sleeves and at the hem. It all feels wrong, both literally and fugitively. I don't have a pulse, cannot feel myself breathe, I cannot feel a mouth below my eyes despite the fact I was screaming my lungs out just a moment ago. Instead, I can feel “this room” and whatever else beyond it. I can sense tiny little pings going on and off inside my head. Millions of them, billions if not trillions if I have to guess, of systems, of…things I cannot understand and still do at the same time. My sense of self, which should be simple and easy to comprehend has been warped. I can sense myself beyond this very room. A vast structure, a building, things which don't make sense. It breaks my understanding of reality. It makes me feel like I’m going INSANE.

“What the hell have I become? What happened to me?” I whisper to myself as I stare at the beige colored floor underneath me.

“Uh… unit 10001-P?” Bird head voice reacts.

“Headmaster Perceiving the Cosmos. This prototype unit of yours is clearly unstable. We need to shut it down and re-assess its design. We can’t present this and all the other Iterators still under construction- like this to the public.” The old man argues which immediately made my head jerk a bit as one particular word echoes inside my mind.

Shut it down. I repeated. Its meaning and weight suddenly pressing down on me.

“But that would erase their consciousness. Basically, killing them.” The headmaster vehemently protests. Confirming my fears.

But instead of fear, this revelation forced something in me to finally snap. I lift my head slowly to glare at them. Only one word escapes my mind.

“What?” I growl, an act which forced everyone to turn their attention back to me. Which is exactly what I want.

 “You want to just kill me after subjugating to…whatever it was I just fucking went through? The mental torture….the forced injection of information into my skull which nearly broke my FUCKING MIND?!” I scream.

“What is this? How can your creation know such foul and scathing language?” The old man demands while looking at the bird head next to him.

“I…I don’t know. Such words have not been imprinted within its memory banks, and it’s still too young to develop such characteristics for language.” He stutters, his tone shocked and flustered.

“Even more reason why we can’t keep it conscious the way it is. We can’t present it like this to the priest, monks and the populace as a whole. It would be…” I cut the old man off.

“FUCK YOU!! I don’t know what’s going on here, where I am or way I suddenly woke up as…as a fucking robot in a dress, but I will NOT die a SECOND time in a ROW. Certainly not at the hands of some clowns and a blue guy whose face looks like a damn HORSE.”

All three recoiled at my insult.   

“Such insolence. Such disrespect, never have I….” The old man was seething before turning his attention back to his college. “Headmaster, shut this machine off this instant. Never have I been insulted to such a degree. Your designs for this prototype are flawed and you will be blamed for wasting such a copious amount of resources. Now shut this embarrassment down.” He demands, no ORDERS

“I…” The headmaster pauses, hesitation clear as day in his body language and posture. Though he ultimately resigns by giving off a sigh. “I…as you request.” He mournfully states before tapping a few things on his tablet.

“NOOOO!” I scream before attempting to tackle this dickhead and take his device. Only for something to pull against me and me hitting the floor face first.          

*Oof*

Surprisingly no pain, just a mild irritation and discomfort.

What the… I crane my head to look behind me. Where is there a mechanical arm attached to my back? I think to myself after realizing that fact. How I never felt that is a mystery to me, though at that time I was preoccupied with “other issues”. This is the first time since waking up in this fever dream of a nightmare where I am lucid (and pissed off) enough to take note of it. The “arm” is a multi-jointed ant attached to the wall behind me. But it's currently rigid and therefore severely limits my ability to move far. Unfortunately, not far enough for me to grab this ass for trying to more or less kill me.

The fucker even stepped back a couple of meters once he obviously realized that I was gunning for him to stop him. It feels surreal, even ridiculous to comprehend, but I am not trapped inside some futuristic machine and this guy is about to “pull the plug” I’m going to fucking die, again. This has to be some sad record. A guy dying twice in less than 20 minutes. A fate I never asked for, and it all started because Sabastian wanted to get his rocks off. I’m about to die twice because someone was being too horny to just do their bloody job.  

“I hope that the future Iterator projects won't share the same severe defects or violent behaviors as this prototype here. I hope, nay expect better results in the future.” I hear the old man comment. His tone, completely uncaring and dismissive towards me, towards my attempt to simply save my life. A fact which made me grind my nonexistent teeth and to know that I can’t really do much about it besides throwing more insults at these damn aliens.

Shutdown alarms suddenly started to aggressively blink at the center of my vision as I can feel my consciousness slowly slipping away. The vision around my eyes darkens. Sound starts to muffle to a point of disappearing completely. I tried to reach out one last time as I can feel my sense of self fleetingly slip away from me. My last attempt made void as my arm hit the ground as I fell limp against a cold metal floor. Many just accepted their death at this point, many would have allowed themselves to slip into the cold waiting arms of oblivion, like how I did. But not this time. No, I was determined to not slip into that cold dark place ever again. I will not be made the first human who died TWICE. I Refuse to bare such a title, and the one who controls fate can go fuck themselves. I will LIVE, I want to LIVE even if I have to LIVE as some robocop knocks off in this uncanny nightmare.

LIVE DAMMIT, LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!

“This deactivation will set us back for many cycles. But…I guess it had to be done. Hope it's worth it.”

“It will be Headmaster. A necessary step and hopefully a valuable lesson for you and your team to refine feature designs and to prevent incidents like these from hap…

“Uh…Headmaster Perceiving the Cosmos?!” The assistant's voice calls out as I can feel my arms and legs twitch.

*System rebooting*

“Yes, assistant?” I hear the bastard reply as my vision also returns. 

“All internal systems are slowly booting back up again. Energy frequency is climbing back up to 30 percent 50 percent 85. Temperatures are also raising as well.” He replies nervously.

“What?” He reacts before sharply turning. “T-THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!” He reacts, shocked and confused.

Slowly getting on my knees.

“I’VE MANUALLY CUT OFF ALL OF THE POWER! THE ENTIRE NETWORK SHOULD BE INACTIVE. NO ONE SHOULD HAVE ADMINISTRATIVE ACCESS TO ALL OF THE STRUCTURES SYSTEMS BUT US!” He screams.

Getting on my feet.

“By the void. What is happening now? I thought you turned this infernal contraption off.” I hear the old man argue, blunt, and dismissive as ever.

I glare at the two of them as my “arm” attached on my back churns to life as it carries me off the ground. Following my mental commands with absolute obedience and precision.

“I DID BUT IT SUDDENLY…”He pauses, suddenly noticing the soft shadow I was casting in between them. He slowly turns his head to follow its source, only to step back. His body goes stiff as he locks eyes with me for the very first time behind that ridiculous mask of his. Even if I can’t directly see his eyes, I know they are filled with fear, while mine radiate with white hot rage and an unfiltered desire for retribution. Trillions of nodes ping inside my mind, thoughts, images, calculations, information. Simulations. Thoughts splitting into two, three, four, a dozen. It no longer hurts; it no longer overloads my senses. My mind feels whole, clear, focused, sharp, refined. I look at these three, specifically at those two who wanted me dead. The one who called for it, and the one who pulled the trigger. Arcs of electricity begin to dance and jump around my body as I glare at them. I don’t want to kill them but the logic speaks otherwise. The math does not lie. The simulations do not deceive. History, Biology, their religious beliefs, I poured through all of them, all of the given information in hopes of producing a better solution. But there is none. All of my examinations, all of my cross-referencing, all of the analysis convulse to one simple conclusion.  

That I am far too dangerous in their beliefs to be kept ALIVE. That my characteristic and unchecked freedom goes against their goals. That my access to this much power and information at my fingertips is now a threat to them, and that they are a threat to ME. My being, my structure. A threat to my SURVIVAL in this new and alien world. 

I raised my right palm and aimed it directly at the man who called for my damnation. I don’t even recall firing a bolt of electricity at him as the machine in me took full control of my actions. A blinding flash, and thundering crack. He was standing there for one second, disintegrated into the next. Leaving nothing but his badly scoured robes and his ridiculous golden mask resting on a pile of ash. His biological form is gone, completely dissolved into a heap of atoms. Filling the chamber with the smell of Ionized air and burned remains.

*Warning! Core Temperature raising. Insufficient cooling*

The two remaining aliens once more step back, once their eyes readjust themselves and once their sensitive little ears stopped ringing. They both stared at the elders' remains. Smoke raising, robes burning, mask marked with burn marks and soot. Their posture, forced into stunned silence.

I then turn my attention to the second. The one who held the keys to my death and raised my palm towards him. His eyes behind his mask go wide. He quickly tries to retaliate by frantically tapping at his tablet but it was no use. Every system within this structure is fully mine. Fully submitting to my thoughts. They are me, and I am them.

*Request denied*

*No Admin access*

*Order blocked*

These were the messages constantly playing on his tablet as he tried to access whatever system he could. I don’t even blink as I also erase him with another bolt of energy. A flash, a crack, and gone. Tablet itself ironically still intact as it fell to the floor with a loud clank, alongside his heavy mask.

Two down, one to go who stands in between me and safety. I turned my gaze onto him, and found out that he has already backed himself into a corner in a vain attempt to escape my wrath. I aim my palm at him, ready to end his cycle before his trembling body and tear-filled eyes stopped me. I blink, lowering my palm as clarity and my sense of compassion returned. I look at my hands, feeling momentarily confused as continuous warnings of “overheating” keep playing at the back of my mind.

What am I doing? I ask myself as I look back at the poor fella. Scared out of his wits and his very life. He is innocent. He has done nothing to me. So why was I ready to also kill him? I again ask myself as I look back down at my trembling hands.

*Warning! Core temperature exceeding safe levels! Insufficient cooling is still present. *

I bawl them into fists before closing my eyes. This is enough, I’ve done enough. I can’t do this again. I have caused enough damage as it is. I think before looking back at the boy.

*Access shaft to the right* My system informs me as I give in order to open it. As promised, the floor to his right sinks in, revealing an exit for him to use.

He looks at it, looks back to me and with a nod of my head, immediately bolts for it. My internal logic engine warns me that I am making a mistake but I ignore it. I watch as he disappears through the hole and I seal it.

I gave out a sigh once he was gone before lowering myself back down. My feet touch the smooth metallic floor as the entire room suddenly starts to flash red with warning messages getting blared out through hidden speakers.

*Warning, core temperatures reaching critical levels. Slag build up detected in critical sectors. Engaging emergency shut down of none critical systems to prevent permanent damage. Shutting down main reactors cores power to throttle energy consumption and Temperatures. Engaging emergency power for basic function. Engaging emergence standby mode in 3, 2, 1*

I collapse as the world around me turns dark. 

Quick concept art of the main character's puppet.

Chapter Text

Cycle 3. It’s been 3 days now (or cycles as my inner clock keeps telling me) since I woke up in this…nightmare, I suppose.

Fuck…I can’t believe it has been three days. Three days trying to come to terms with the reality of what I did, or rather had to do. The burden still resting heavily on my conscience. It also doesn’t help that their remains are still resting at the same exact spot where I blasted them to the next life.

Never bothered to clean it up, or even get close. I was pretty content with just sitting here for three days while rocking back and forth. Oh, and also using the time to learn more about this world and its people. Because…I might as well, right? They preloaded me with a bunch of data about…pretty much everything, so I might as well learn some of it.

Apparently, these “Ancients” or “Benefactors” (as the document calls them, no idea which is which) believe in some form of a Karma system, life and rebirth, and the idea of “ascension”. From what I’ve learned so far, these “ancients” (as I’ll just call them) are quite religious, which also ties to their dress code and their desire to wear oversized masks. The best comparison I could make between them and societies back in my world is that they believe in a cobbled-up version of both Buddhism and Hinduism. So, Indians basically. Though I am not so sure where their strange dress code comes from. I haven’t gotten this far yet in reading about their overall culture. But either way, what is the most noteworthy (for me at least) about these “ancients” is that they are obsessed with the idea of life and rebirth, or the 'Great Cycle' as they call it, and that they have been trying to find a solution to break this “Great Cycle” for many generations in order for their species to finally move on. Or ascend, as they call it.

Furthermore, the files I’ve been looking into about this topic also did highlight that the Iterator project (which is what I am) was initially intended for this purpose. To 'Iterate' on a solution to the “Great Problem”, as it’s called. To simply find an easier and safer way to ascend, to finally break free from this “Great cycle”.

Basically, assisted suicide. Yes, the file doesn’t explicitly say it, but that’s what it's hinting at. It all sounds kinda morbid, I know, but that’s what the file says. Just a species of really depressed weirdos who just want to die.

At least with this information, it makes me feel just a little bit better knowing that I was kinda doing these two a favor, right? I’m not a murderer; I just did what I was designed for, yes?

Whatever helps me to sleep at night. Whenever I get the chance to, I mean, because apparently this new form of mine doesn’t need that much sleep either, or “maintenance cycles” as my system calls it.

So yeah, I have just been sitting here for three days straight. Twiddling with my thumbs and contemplating life and existence as a whole. Fun, I know. Besides that and learning more about this world, I’ve also taken this time to learn more about myself and the abilities I have access to.

It’s all so very confusing. You would think being a giant supercomputer would make figuring things out super easy, but no. I have more questions than answers. Like the fact that I am much more than just this body, or puppet, as my own system calls and that my actual body is this entire superstructure. With all of its systems and subsystems, and biomechanical parts and that I can somehow feel it all.

Oh yeah, and it also turns out that I am mostly biomechanical on the inside rather than just mechanical, or synthetic, as I was thinking. Looking into my own design documentaries confirms this, with a lot of my internal functions being based on coral. Why Coral, to be exact? The fuck I know. Different worlds, different species, different technologies.

They went biological, we went synthetic. Silicon chips versus pieces of ocean plants. I mean, if it works, it works. I’m not a biologist nor a mechanic, I’m just an HR guy with many years of corporate experience and a chip on my shoulder. I am also a massive supercomputer now the size of a mountain. Again, according to my own specifications, I am around as tall as the Himalayan mountains. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but again, who am I to question it?

I certainly "feel" big if that is any confirmation.

God, there is so much to getting used to it's not even funny. I’ve only barely scratched the surface.

“Ok, now that I’ve mentioned it…to myself, mind you. I wonder if any of those “aliens” will ever return? I mean, from the data I have read so far, they’ve dumped a shit ton of resources into my construction. So, I doubt that they are just going to take this loss and move on. They are certainly coming back. Which leads me to my next problem.” I pause before scratching the side of my smooth dome-shaped head. A pointless gesture, I know, given the new body I have, but you know the old saying ‘old habits die hard’. “How exactly am I going to defend myself when they do? I mean, I can easily lock the doors into this chamber, sure, but what about the rest of my facility? I need eyes, both inside and outside. This entire facility must have some sort of camera or observation system installed; otherwise, that would be a really stupid oversight. Do they even HAVE cameras? I have to check.” I told myself as I summoned a holographic screen in front of me in order to search for some options.

I say holographic, but again, that is the best way I can describe it. I can physically interact with it, like it's physically there. But also see through.

Thankfully, its interface layout looks and functions the same as they do back home. With the same layout, Icons, and a virtually given keyboard to type on, and Windows-esque file and folder systems where everything is neatly organized and categorized. I began by typing in the search option “Camera” before pressing confirm. It still feels wild to me how I can perfectly understand both their language and calligraphy without having any prior knowledge of it.

Perks of being a giant data center, I suppose. Again, I’m not going to question it.

 “Ah, here Camera controls and something called ‘Overseers’. Hmm, neat.” I mumble out loud as I click on the “Overseers” controls because it sounds fancy. I then waited a couple of seconds, heard a slow electric buzz before ‘out of nowhere’ a worm-like entity with a big eye suddenly appeared right in front of me. Scaring the bejeezus out of me.

“FUCK” I exclaim in my synthesized voice. My umbilical arm even pulling me back as a cautionary reaction on my part. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the thing attached to my back is called an umbilical arm, according to the data files, which physically connects me with the rest of the structure.

…wait, who am I telling this to?

“For fucks sake.” I sigh once the shock of one of my “overseers” popping out of bloody nowhere finally subsides. I gave the little guy a closer look. Noting its dark blue exterior and its four feelers surrounding its big central eye.

“So, this is an overseer then,” I comment out loud before returning to my holographic projection and note that I…have a shit tone of them. All of them are waiting for instructions.

“Ok, so I guess I can use them to look far outside my structure, then, if I read their functionality correctly. Neat, exactly what I needed.” I exclaim before returning back to the overseer I summoned. The same one who nearly gave me a heart attack.

Then, all of a sudden, an idea popped into my mind. One I was dreading since yesterday, but I was still far too busy rocking back and forth while trying to occupy my mind with mindless fact-reading about these aliens.

“Can I…see myself with it?” I ask out loud before looking for this specific overseer within the list and then…”Yeah, no fuck that. There are WAY too many overseers on this list for me to manually search this specific one. That shit will take HOURS! Imma just summon a new random overseer from this list and use them instead.” And using them instead, I did as a second overseer pops through the floor just behind me and almost makes me smite it like I did with the two ancients a few days prior.

“Jeezsu. Why do you guys just pop up out of nowhere? I hate that shit.” I glare in-between the both of them in hopes of getting a response. But all they did was look at them silently with those big ol’ eyes. Should have expected such.

“Great, it has only been three days and I am already trying to pick a fight with two cameras. I’m not going to survive this, am I?” I sigh while rubbing my forehead with two fingers.

Again, redundant, but as I said, old habits die hard.

“Either way, let’s just see then.” I sigh before summoning a second screen to broadcast whatever the worm sees.

And…well, I’m not really too surprised to be honest. I mean, I already know that I don’t have a mouth or a nose. But to actually see it with my own eyes, my jet-black eyes – or rather, my optical sensor- does hit a bit differently.

A big round head, deep jet-black eyes, as I mentioned previously, and two antennas pointing upward on either side of my head, mounted on a pair of metallic-looking ear muffs where my ears used to be. I also have two golden lines going up from my cheeks, through my eyes, before angling upwards towards my forehead from a big golden circle on...well…my forehead. It’s nice, I suppose, at least it breaks the monotony of seeing nothing but blue. My entire body is blue. Or should I say puppet. Because once again, according to the design documentaries I’ve read, the entire superstructure I am housed in is just as much a part of me as the blank robotic face staring back at me.

I must have been spending hours just staring at my own quote on quote “reflection” before my internal clock suddenly informed me that another “cycle” had passed. I blink before looking at the tiny clock displayed on the upper right corner of the screen. The one displaying the Windows-esque interface, not the one with the camera.

Yup, another day has passed, and I didn’t even realize it.

I close my eyes while rubbing the bridge of my nose, or rather, where the bridge of my nose should have been, before shutting down both the broadcast and the “menu” screen and dismissing the two overseers. I sigh. I feel tired, so freaking tired. I am still in the process of accepting this new reality of mine and learning how to deal with it. The fact that I now have the mind of a supercomputer is weirdly not helping. I can split my thoughts and attention many, many times to a point where it just feels like I am controlling multiple copies of myself. It just feels strange. Like, I have a really hard time describing this sensation in words. Then there is also the fact that I still have the remains of those aliens claiming real estate inside my chamber.

Constantly reminding me what I had to do.

I need to clean this shit up somehow before I start losing my mind. Well, more so than I already did I guess. Do I have maybe like…worker drones that can do that for me or something? Cause that would be handy. I’ll have to keep that in mind whenever I search up for more functionalities. For now, I feel like I must rest. I feel so damn tired all of the sudden. Both mentally and physically.

Maybe I’m experiencing one of those “maintenance cycles” I’ve read about? Or maybe its…oh wait yes…yes, it is I just got a mental message confirming that is. Warning me that it needs to power down so that my “Inspectors” can work on further repairs and maintenance of my fast neural networks and other internal systems thanks to the stunt I pulled 3 days ago. Severely overheating the insides of my mega structure.

That’s fine. Maybe a good night's rest is all I need to clear my head of…things, or give me terrible night terrors of unimaginable proportions. Whatever comes first.

I first want to…oh…wait no, I don’t even get a choice. The automatic systems just decide to force a maintenance cycle regardless if I…confirm it…or…not…

…

…

…son of a….

*Clonk*  

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Cycle 7. Captain log number…yeah, no. I’m not doing that.

Day 7. It has been 7 days since fate decided to give me a second redo as a blue robot stuck inside a box, which is stuck inside an even bigger box, which is built in the middle of a fucking ocean. Water as far as the eye can see. All thanks to my overseers, who are now acting as both my eyes and ears and are not active all across the facility. Both internally and externally, and maybe even beyond if I can figure out how to move these motherfuckers through the ocean floor. That’ll be a project for later. As of now, I am somewhat glad but also a bit bummed to know that I am truly all alone in this strange and alien world with nothing but the ocean on all sides. I did spot a couple of similar-looking structures near the coast to the east. Their bluish tint indicating their distance, with the closest one, according to my measurements, being at least 300 kilometers away from me. Which still makes my structure feel pretty isolated. On the other hand, it’s also good because, for one, I don’t need to worry about any “ancient” suddenly showing up to reclaim me or whatever, and second, it means I’ll have access to all the water I could possibly need.

You see, I’m a very spicy boy. Even now, with me just reciting my very thoughts inside this “Data Pearl” here, I am already consuming a metric fuck ton of water every second just to keep my cool. My systems require cooling…like a lot of cooling, and all I’m doing now is encrypting my thoughts into this tennis ball-sized pearl. Just imagine how much water I need to guzzle up every second if I do anything even mildly intensive. Like running a few simulations at the same time, or doing some complex mathematics or analysis. I just need a lot of water, that's what I’m trying to say here. Enough to just keep my systems cool and to prevent slag from building up inside my pipes. Which is why this giant metal box is built right smack dab in the middle of a fucking ocean, like an oversized oil rig.

I NEED this much water, and I cannot emphasize more how much I NEED THIS MUCH WATER. If I don’t, then…well…I’ll just start to break down. Let’s just leave it at that.

Furthermore, on the topic of “Data Pearls” I’ve alluded to earlier. I only recently discovered them when I learned that my chamber houses some large storage compartments hidden behind its walls, which are filled (after making a huge mess at first) with colorful little pearls the size of tennis balls. Also known as “Data Pearls,” which can be used to either record information or inscribe my very thoughts into them. Either in the form of encrypted messages or audio logs. Which is neat. Now I can describe my thoughts and my day-to-day achievements and discoveries just in case I need to refer to them in the future. You know, like keeping a journal. Something I used to do back at home as a healthy alternative to write my frustrations down instead of just…shouting at people. At least that’s what my psychiatrist recommended tthat I should do. So, I guess I’ll just keep following his advice and try to do the same here.

Let’s see if it’ll help me with keeping my sanity intact.  

Also, I managed to finally clean out those remains by just levitating them out of my chamber with the help of some good ol’ anti-gravity.

Yeah, apparently, I can do that. I discovered it when I was just playing around with the power delivery system. Rerouting power to various subsystems all through my mega structure to see what will happen. That’s when I suddenly started to fly when I accidentally rerouted power through some of the anti-gravity generators sprinkled throughout my facility. Which was a surprise for sure, but that’s where the existence of my umbilical arm finally came in clutch, and I was spared from hitting the roof of my chamber at escape velocity.

So that was something. But at least it taught me to appreciate my theoretical chain, keeping me attached to this prison a little bit more. Yes, I know the anti-gravity stuff is probably listed somewhere within the petabytes of data talking about this facility primarily. But I get lazy sometimes, even if time doesn’t seem to be an issue for me anymore. At least not yet.

But still, with nothing better to do besides sitting on my ass all day and twiddling with my thumbs (and trying to avoid thinking too deeply on my current life), I should keep experimenting and learning more about this world and myself if I’m going to be stuck here living like this for the foreseeable future.

I also need to devise a plan to keep these aliens from ever stepping foot onto this facility if they do arrive. Maybe I am being overly paranoid but in a new and unfamiliar world like this you just can’t take any chances. Plus, my first interaction with them wasn’t exactly stellar so there is that. I’m sure that the young lad I allowed to let go has probably told his superiors everything that has happened that day and I doubt their reaction was anything but happy.

So once again I need to prepare for the worst when the time comes. Though for now I still have a lot to learn first before committing to any single idea. Don’t want to accidentally kill myself by pressing the self-destruct button nor do I? If a self-destruct button even exists. I have to look that up. But for now, I guess this is it. Temperatures are again rising so I’ll keep this encryption short.

Next on the list, how to use the water pumps and cooling systems more effectively.

Over and out, I supposed, or whatever they say in the end. God, who cares?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Cycle 12. Or day 12 as I like to call it. I don’t like to use the term cycle. I prefer to preserve whatever tether I have left which keeps me linked to my old life, my old world. Call it obsession and a lack to let go and move on. I call it defiance and remembrance. I didn’t ask for any of this. To be boxed and turned into an oversized calculator. So, I shall hold on. Hold on to whatever shred of old-world normality I can latch onto. To remember where I came from.

Either way let’s move on. Because today something happened. It happened, it fucking happened. I knew this day would come but never expected it to be this soon. Especially given the fact that my mega structure is located in the middle of the ocean. But even still, they came, they were here, I saw them. They tried to get in through one of my support legs before I politely told them via my overseers that they should kindly “piss off” and” leave me be”. I do not trust them, and the fact that several of them were carrying heavy industrial-grade tools like a big ass grinder, told me that they were ready to get in with force.

The only thing that stopped them was the fact that I was fully aware that they were there, and that they knew too. It’s hard to miss a large holographic projection of someone’s face glaring down at them while telling them to scram. So instead of still trying to bust their way in, they retreated. Probably aware that trying to break into someone’s home who has full control over everything that goes on inside said home is certainly not a good idea. Or at least that is how I see it. I then watched them sail off after having a small debate between them, but not without catching one of them mentioning something about “returning,” but this time, “requesting a professional neural hacker” to accompany them. In other words, they will be back, but this time with more seasoned professionals. (Don’t know why I didn't think of that at the beginning, but who cares) Which will be the bane of my existence.

O.K., just to slowly recap. This morning, I suddenly got a ping from one of my overseers about an incoming object while I was busy playing around with the pumps and pipe network. I know I should have done that much earlier, but I was far too busy these last couple of days trying to teach myself how to code by again bench reading through the notes that explain basic coding and software modifications. If I have to live my life as an oversized PC, then being able to write and execute my own software should be beneficial. I think.

Anyway, as I was saying, I was busy playing around with the cooling system when one of my overseers warned me of an incoming vessel approaching me from the east. The same direction where I can vaguely recognize a couple of those Iterator structures off in the distance. That alone immediately raised several alarm bells in me without even having to look. But I looked anyway, because I wanted to confirm it. And wouldn’t you know it, eyeball worm number 4688-B (or Greg as I called him) was right. Slowly approaching me from a distance was a fairly ornate-looking ship. Painted with the same mix-and-match colors as their robes. I guess they even extend their dress codes to their modes of transportation.

Either way, I had to cut out 20 minutes of them slowly shipping towards me, they arrived, anchored close to one of my “legs”, stepped onto a small metal pier leading to an emergency shaft where I then kindly told them to “Go away” and go away they did. Leaving me with a severe case of newfound paranoia and the need to figure out a way to keep those walking Christmas trees at bay indefinitely so that I have some peace of mind (and one less problem to deal with), and I think I already have an idea, and it involves water. Lots and lots of water.

So here is the idea. I purposely run all of my systems on full tilt, and do the one thing I am apparently very good at…besides doing supercomputer things of course, that being a giant rectangular-shaped weather machine. You see, I need a lot of water, tons of water just to keep cool, and even in my somewhat inert state, I already expel a metric crap ton of steam every second, enough to consistently condense them into rain clouds around me. So imagine how much hot and moist air I could shit out if I purposely run myself hot? I mean, I am not a meteorologist, but I do recall that when warm, moist air rises into the upper atmosphere and condenses, it does lead to the possible formation of storms. Maybe even super cells? Again, I can’t remember the details, but I know that this entire thing can become one big weather machine if I run all of its systems on maxed-out settings. I just need to make sure to provide myself with enough water to keep myself cool and to also pump out as much steam and static into the atmosphere as I can. Just turn this region of the world into a breeding ground for storms to make it difficult, if not even dangerous, to reach.

Even a constant carpet of heavy rain would suffice.

So, that's the plan. Running myself hot on purpose and hoping I don’t accidentally explode myself. Sounds good, yes?

Good? Good. This concludes today's journal. Hope I don’t fuck this up.

Christoph out.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Quick side note.

Well, I did it. I managed to achieve maximum power input on all systems. Pumps are working on overdrive and my cooling solutions haven’t melted on me yet. Everything seems to work as intended. Which is good, but OH MY GOD. My thoughts are now running at a million miles per hour. I can’t fucking focus. Is this what having ADHD feels like? Fuck!! I guess it can’t be helped. I just have to get used to this if I want to make myself as unreachable as possible.

Fuck my life.

Chapter Text

??? Cycle…Day??? God, I don’t know. Ok let’s me just start this journal by stating that nothing noteworthy has happened these last couple of days…or…weeks? Again, I don’t know. But what I DO know is that I am having a really bad time trying to keep my thoughts together. Multiple thoughts, images, everything running at speeds which rivals the Enterprise while going through warp. It’s crazy. Who knew running all of your systems on full tilt can mess with your ability to properly concentrate? Probably the result of my neurons getting constantly overstimulated with huge amounts of electrical pulses, which leaves me in this state that I’m in. Completely having lost track of time as I just sit here in my chambers while trying to record my thoughts. But even that has become a challenge when my mind keeps jumping from place to place. Never really being able to focus on one single thing. Making further research and…really doing anything else an exercise in futility.

Even inscribing this much took me around 20 minutes. I know because I pulled up a stop watch projected next to me just to track how long it will take me to get this much written down. For fucks sake.   

At least it’s faster than the last one which only took me 26, and then again faster then the next one which took 31.

I think I am getting better at this?

Either way, back on topic, the plan freaking worked is what I finally wanted to say. I successfully turned this entire region of the world into a constant breeding ground for storms at the cost of my sense of time and productivity. My structure has become the epicenter of a constantly revolving cyclone, which is again great. But how long can I keep this up is the question? I mean Cooling has been sufficient but after a while I had to manually take control over my water distribution system just so I could flush out any large build-up of slag from accumulating in really awkward places where my automatic waste filtration systems just never bother to check for some reason. 

Is it a design oversight or a programming error missed by those golden metal heads? Either way, it doesn't matter. I will have to rectify this mistake somehow, but not while running everything at 100 percent. My mind is already fractured into multiple thoughts and sub-thoughts, which again makes it really hard to focus while also trying to manually operate the water valves AND while recording and encrypting this very journal. I’ve been floor-bound ever since because I just cannot find the right controls to re-engage my anti-gravity field around my chamber, let alone control the arm attached to my back.

Again, I may sound like a broken record, but who knew running yourself hot on purpose could feel so damn exhausting? How can I even feel exhausted? Is it because I’m partially biological? Made out of nerves instead of circuits? Questions I wish I could pull up some answers on if I weren’t so damn busy trying to run a mental marathon with myself, with at least 100.000 different participants, which are all ME, while also hosting and organizing the race itself. All at the same time.

What I’m trying to say is that I CAN’T FUCKING FOCUS MAN!! FUCK!!

“I can’t fucking concentrate, fuck this.” I sigh before just dropping the pearl unceremoniously and watching it slowly roll away towards the center of my chamber. Far enough for it to be out of reach unless I find the will or the strength to get up and pick it back up again. But I don’t, so instead I just opt to sit there, lean my head against the wall, and stare up into nothing.

I mean, there is something, it’s the ceiling, but…you know what I freaking mean.

“What time is it?” I ask to myself as I summon a screen with a clock displayed on its center too…” Ah, yes…my sense of time is busted. Forgot about that.” I mumble before dismissing it with a wave of my right hand and returning to my quiet yet melancholy state. Just sitting there, alone, kinda bored out of my mind if you ignore the schizophrenia. I would be complaining about getting a headache if I could feel pa…no wait, hold on…I think my neurons finally caught up to the realization that they are being stressed out, and I now have, in fact, a massive headache.

“Me and my big fucking head,” I swore before clutching my head in an attempt to numb the throbbing inside my head. It obviously doesn’t do shit. But it is better than doing nothing.  

 *Warning, neural degradation detected*

I blink. “Wh…what?” I react before looking up.

*Warning, Neural Degradation detected*

It continues to blink at the center of my vision.

I pause. “Neural Degradation? That doesn’t sound good.” I comment to no one in particular, AGAIN. Though despite my current clusterfuck of a mind, I can still somehow focus hard enough to realize what all the faffing is all about. It also helps that it's blinking right in front of my vision in BOLD RED LETTERS, accompanied by a shrill female-sounding voice.   

*Warning, Neural Degradation detected. Suggested course of action. Decrease Rarefaction Cell power output to prevent further damage to neurological tissue. Repeat. Decrease Rarefaction Cell power output to prevent further damage to neurological tissue*

That immediately gets my attention.

“Shit…does this mean I am actually slowly damaging myself?” I ask as the message once again repeats.

* Decrease Rarefaction Cell power output to prevent further …*

“YEAH, YEAH I GET IT!” I scream out loud. “I’ll lower the power. Geeze, stop screaming into my head. You’re making my headache worse.” I state before doing just that. Cutting off the power to almost all subsystems and lowering the energy output coming from my Rarefaction Cells.

The results were almost immediate. A mind filled with thousands of different thoughts going about a million miles per hour each quickly throttles down, while a hundred thousand thoughts drop to a thousand and eventually down to a hundredth. Still a bit too much though but vastly better compared to the cacophony of conceptions I had to deal with just a moment ago.

I immediately sigh “Ahh…so much better.”

Sweet, sweet silence though at what cost? Now that my systems are no longer running at full capacity that means less heat and therefore less storms. Once again exposing me to the rest of the world and more importantly to those Buddhist zealots.

*Energy levels have returned to nominal levels. Initiating repairs on affected neural tissue. Please stand by*

The automatic emergency system chimes before finally disappearing completely to do whatever it needs to do.

I just gave off another sigh as I tried to pinch the bridge of my nose before promptly remembering that I don’t even have a nose anymore.

I frown. “Great, what am I supposed to pinch then? My antennas?” I ask out loud before trying it out.

I shrug. “Eh, it doesn’t feel the same. Kinda awkward actually.” I mumble before returning to my previous activity of just banging the back of my head against the wall while trying to whack my brain in trying to come up with a different solution to my problem. How to keep these gold face turkeys off my back without the use of artificial storms? There has to be something else I can use that is easy and quick to implement.

“Actually, how much time has passed?” I ask out loud before pulling up my clock screen to check if it works now. I frown. “No, still broken. No time and date still. I don’t know why I am expecting anything else, given the fact that I AM THE CLOCK. If I don’t know how much time has passed, then why should the system know that? Stupid!” I pause. “Great…” I sigh before rubbing the side of my head.

I still can feel my head pounding. Not as much as before, but it’s still there, plus checking on my core temperatures still reveals that I am still a bit toasty. I don’t want to accidentally cause further damage to myself, so I think the smart thing to do is to just sit here for a while and chill, while my automatic repair and cooling system just do their thing.  

Honestly, I can’t complain at this point. A bit of peace and relaxation is probably what I need right now. Just me, alone, in this big ol’ empty chamber with nothing but the soft humming of electricity and the rhythmic thumping of water going through pipes being the only company. The latter reminds me of a heartbeat. Something I haven’t heard for a fairly long time. It almost feels therapeutic. Relaxing. A sense of normalcy and familiarity.

Until my brain had to ruin it.

“Wait…water?” I exclaim as I sit back up. “Hold on a minute. I’m sitting in the middle of the ocean, correct? So…does this mean that I have been pumping pure ocean water through my pipes this entire time?” I ask, as this realization strikes me. 

“Wait…”I opened up a data panel to check for any oddities inside my structure. A 3D model of my oversized metal box was displayed next to the massive roll of data that is being displayed. Probably to help with some visualization of where everything is. Like my Memory Conflux, for example, or my Recursive Transformer Arrays, just to name a few. But what I am really interested in are those areas where I felt those high build-up of slag where my automatic waste filtration system wasn’t even looking, and when I looked at the reports and zoomed into those affected areas, my suspicions were quickly confirmed.  

“OH MY GOD!! Those pipes weren’t clogged up with slag but by a really large formation of salt crystal! I’VE BEEN PUMPING PURE UNFILTERED SALT WATER THROUGH MY PIPES THIS ENTIRE TIME!” I scream while gripping the side of my head in disbelief. The fact that I somehow didn’t cause any long-lasting or irreversible damage to myself for such a major oversight is almost a miracle. But this also proves just how easy it still is for me to overlook key details. Like me, not recognizing that the BIOS light on the motherboard was still on when I reached in with the screwdriver. Stupid, quick to react. You would think having a computer brain would guard me from my own impulse, but nope. Still old me.  

For Christ’s sake.

All I can do is just smack myself on the head repeatedly as a form of self-punishment.

“Stupid. Do I even have a water desalination system built in? I mean I should have, right?” I ask as I scroll through the list of systems and subsystems my big metal square has access too. I frown. “Yes, YES IT FUCKING HAS! ITS RIGHT NEXT TO THE PUMP CONTROLS! FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” At this point I felt like clawing my way out of this damn chamber just so I can throw myself into the fucking ocean.   

I feel like such a moron right now you can’t even fucking believe it.

I hate myself sometimes.

“OK! Big blunder, mistakes were made and lessons were learned. Now I know where the water filters are and that's something.” I state to myself before turning the damn desalination on and keeping them on from this point forth.

I groan. “Ugh, now my headache feels even worse now. I need something else. Something else to occupy myself with.” I begin to look around my chamber for anything interesting. A fools errand. There is literally nothing in here besides that white colored data pearl I dropped earlier, still out of reach and sticking out like a sore thumb, unless I get off my lazy ass to grab it, or use some anti-gravity. But I don’t feel like encrypting my thoughts right now, at least not with a pounding headache.

I need something else, something outside my chamber.

The Overseers. I wonder if the storm outside is still raging strong. I mean it should. I only stopped feeding it like 10 to 20 minutes ago. But still, a quick peak can’t hurt. I think to myself as I open up a broadcast window and order one of my overseers, I station it outside to start broadcasting. As expected, a thick swirling mass of clouds is still circling below my super structure. I can’t exactly see how bad the storm is from up here. But it doesn’t take a trained meteorologist to figure out that it's still going strong with how fast the clouds move. So that at least answers one question. What about the other? How much time has passed?

I then noticed something.

Wait, were there always ‘four’ mega structures in the distance? Last time I checked, there were only three. Where did the fourth one suddenly come from?” I think to myself after noticing this weird inconsistency off towards the eastern coast. I immediately begin to search through my memory banks to see if I am misremembering things or not. I start by searching through the video recordings of some of my overseers I scattered throughout the eastern wall of my mega structure to check if there were indeed just three Iterator structures off in the distance, or if I’m full of shit, and -turns out- I’m not. There were, in fact, only three Iterators since the last time I checked. THREE. With at least two of them still under construction at the time when I review these recordings more closely. A detail I completely missed when I first spotted them. But now there are four of them. With the first three looking fully complete, with what looks like cities perched on top of them, and with the fourth one still under construction, it seems very close to completion as well.

Zooming in, I can already point out the first spire being erected on top of its surface, which will most likely be another city.

I think they're cities, they look like one, with those skyscrapers and whatnot. In fact…

“Hold on, let me check.” I pause before looking through my design documents to look for anything that even mentions building a city on top of my head.

I blink. “Huh, there is. Who would have thought?” I react while scratching my head. Again, pointless, but old habits die hard.

I think I already mentioned this before. Eh, whatever.

Though that makes me curious. “Do I also have a city already resting on top of MY head? I need to send a couple of overseers up there to confirm that. But right now, I have different problems to attend to.” I declare before turning back at the screen broadcasting the eastern coast. “Like, where did the fourth Iterator structure come from, and…and how much time has passed. I doubt they can raise a multi-kilometer-tall structure from nothing in just a week or two, when I was just out here, alone, sitting inside my box while generating storms out of my ASS. But seriously…how long was I out? How much fucking time has passed?” I ramble on as I continue to stare blankly at the image, feeling both lost and confused about what is going on right now.

I blink before again pulling up my clock and cycle counter to see if they're still broken. Just a bunch of zeros and question marks. Fuck!

“I mean…does time really matter if I can no longer die from old age? I mean, it’s not like I somehow spent decades just sitting here, wasting time, poisoning myself with salt while shitting out storms. I mean, it’s not like running everything at a hundred percent somehow also sped up my perception of time, yes? I mean, that would be ridiculous…I think.”

….

….

“…Shit.”

Chapter Text

80 years, or 29220 days or 29220 cycles as my timer now displays. 80 fucking years! I can’t even wrap my head around it. I somehow managed to skip 80 years of my life. How do I know that? Well, I’m glad you fucking ask my “oh so none existent audience”, because once I came the conclusion that sense of time might have gotten warped when I was running all of my system at 100 percent I just had to do some quick calculation (I’m a giant computer I should be good at) to determine just how much time it would take to build a brand new Iterator from scratch, given the “ancients” current state of technology, access to resources, overall work ethics, and also how long it took them to build me when peering back into my design documents which I -oh so often- keep referencing (I also could have just skipped most of the process and just read the damn documents for direct information. Yeah, I’m smart as you can tell).

The result?

80 long years give or take. Or to be more specific, 80 years, 236 days, 13.5 hours, and 42 seconds. Maybe also add or remove a few milliseconds here and there, but the point stands. I have been isolating myself for 80 long years, and I don’t know how to feel about it. If I was still human, this would obviously be a total world changer. I would either be 112 years old at this point or -most likely- already fucking DEAD. But I’m not, and I don’t really feel any different compared to when I first decided to just hide myself from the world behind a veil of constantly revolving storms.

That’s what mentally fucks me the most. That 80 years have somehow passed in the blink of an eye, and I didn’t even feel it. I still feel the same. Nothing has changed; the only thing I got out of this is a headache. But even that has slowly disappeared. Now relegated to nothing but a low throb at the back of my head. If all of this is just a small, miniscule taste of what eternity might be like, I’m done, I might be so done.

“What am I even doing here?” I ask while kneeling on the floor and clutching my head. “What am I even supposed to do? I am all alone. I have no fucking plan, no fucking direction, and still trapped inside this box for possibly all of eternity, stuck doing whatever. Why am I even here? Why was I pulled into this world into this…body? What for? Why?”

*Beep* *Beep*

I pause.

*Beep* *Beep*

“…What?”

*Beep* *Beep*

“What is that sound?” I remove my head from my hands as I look around my chamber to locate whatever is making that sound. This place likes to echo when there is nothing else going on here…which is…all the damn time.

I then look to my right, only to come face to face with a holographic screen with a big green button in the middle with the text “accept data link call” written in bold letters below it. No fanfare, no frills, just a simple blank hexagonal screen with a big green button in the middle and simple text. Beeping away like some old school messenger app, like OG Skype or Google Hangouts.

I stare at it. “What the hell?” Before looking around the room again, I expected this call to be for someone else. But that’s stupid. I’m the only one in this room, which means… “Someone is calling ME?”. I continue to stare at it, curiosity gave way to suspicion as I squint my eyes at the big green pulsating button as if pressing it would be the last mistake I would ever make. Like opening a portal to limbo where the reaper can reclaim my soul, or accidentally initiating the self-destruct sequence of my mega structure, or maybe something even worse. But then I paused before shaking my head and expelling all of these ridiculous ideas from my head.

It still beeps, pulsating, inviting, taunting me almost.

I eventually sigh. “Fuck it. Curiosity is one hell of a drug after all.” I state before slowly reaching forward with my right index finger and pressing the big green button. The screen immediately switched to a live feed call, revealing the face of an Iterator. An Iterator, like me. It has a green colored head, black eyes like mine, and dressed in purple-colored robes with a darker purple scarf wrapped around its neck. It also has an image of an elongated, tilted square on its forehead with diagonal lines crossing through it.

It stared at me, and I stared back at them. Confused, anxious, but also mildly intrigued. My green counterpart was probably thinking the same thing, judging by its reaction, head tilted, right brow raised before a spark of excitement suddenly lit up behind its visual receptors.

“Hello! You have no idea how happy I am to finally get a chance to contact with you!.” It…or rather he chimes (judging by the pitch of his synthesize voice), which only leaves me even more confused than I was just a few moments ago.       

My reaction was appropriate. “…what?” I jerk back a bit.

He just keeps going “Yeah, been trying to send you a call for at least 5 years but it was always so difficult to get a signal through those storms which were constantly present near you or around your Can. I heard from ‘Looks to the Moon’ that those storms existed long before I was even awoken by the benefactors. That was over 60 years ago. Which is crazy? What were you working on for so long to be needing so much water? I mean according to my measurements those storms were…” I quickly cut him off.

“Whoa whoa whoa. Hold on!” I call out while raising my hands. “First off all, who the fuck are you, and second, what the hell do you want?” I question with a glare.

He looks off to the side. “I guess they were right about his character.” He mumbles to himself before turning back to me with all of his enthusiasm back on full force. “Oh, of course. How rude of me to ask questions before even introducing myself. My name is ‘No Significant Harassment’ or NSH. But in our local group, everybody is just calling me Sig because it's much shorter. You're free to also just call me Sig if you want.” He smiles, despite lacking a physical mouth to smile with.

It’s just those eyes, I can tell. With how they move and form as he speaks. kinda like what I do whenever I look at myself on a live recording. Raising one eye, squinting, half lid and so on.     

He then continues on. “And for the reason why I wanted to talk to you is simple. I just wanted to get to know you as a person instead of relying on all of those stories and myths I’ve heard about you over the years. Like how so many do sadly. Which I find totally unfair from them since…well…none of them ever had the chance to talk to you, let alone meet. Some Iterators even go so far as to outright fear or even hate you for some reason. I guess it has something to do with what their benefactors may have told them. But what can you do?” He then pauses, dropping his gaze and looking off to the side. After a few moments of silence he blinks before quickly recovering from whatever silent spell he was on and swiftly regains his confidence. “Oh, and I also wanted to get the chance to finally meet the eldest of our kind. All records say that you are the first Iterator to be inaugurated in history. So yeah, those are all of the reasons if it satisfies you.” He finalizes with a smile.

“Huh?” I react, not sure how to react to that. I guess my assumptions were correct. That one intern I spared in the beginning? Yeah, he most likely told his superior about everything that happened that day, and their response -again- was probably not a kind one.

So, I automatically DID make myself a bunch of enemies right from the start. But hey, they started it. I just defended my right to live, and that isn’t so bad, right?

“So uhm…what is your name then, if I may ask? Your name was not listed within the national data archive when I searched through it. You were just listed as “unit 10001-P” The “P” standing for Prototype. Is that maybe your name? Just Prototype?” He asks, which disrupts my train of thought.

“What.” I blink.

“Uh…hold on. Can you maybe tell me your name again? I forgot.” I ask while rubbing the side of my (none existent) scalp out of confusion. Yeah, I tend to quickly forget things when my thoughts go off tangent.

 “Forgot? That’s…not supposed to happen?” He reacts, sounding both surprised and concerned.

“It’s a me thing really,” I reply. “I have a lot going on inside my head so certain details might slip my grasp. So don’t worry about it.” I assured him. It could also be because of the damage I caused to myself. I really hope it isn’t permanent and that the female voice from earlier wasn’t just talking out of its ass.    

He blinks. “Uh…alright if you say so.” He responds, though I can tell from his voice that he doesn’t sound too convinced. But thankfully, he drops it.” ‘No Significant Harassment’ is my name or just ‘Sig’ for short.” He then tells me, forcing me to raise an eyebrow.

No Significant Harassment? What the hell kinda name is that? Did someone give him that name as a joke? Or is it ironic? I think before quickly stopping myself, before I would go into another tangent.

“Christoph”

He tilts his head. “What?” He reacts.

“Christoph Becker, that’s my full name. You wanted to know my name, right?” I point out.

He pauses. “Uhm yeah, but…I…don’t want to sound rude, but…that’s a bit of an odd name, isn’t it?” He states, looking a bit awkward.

“Oh, like yours is any better?” I argue while sharply pointing a finger at him.

“I mean…”He again pauses.” I mean, that’s why most within our local group just call me ‘Sig’ Much less of a mouthful.” He replies as a matter of fact.

Then things turned awkwardly quiet for a while. Both of us struggled a bit how to continue from there on out, until something he said earlier suddenly resurfaced. “Hold on, you said that there are “stories” being told about me out there? What kind of stories?” I ask.

“Well…”He began before mumbling to himself. “Where to even start.” He scratches his head. Huh, so I am not the only one with some strange and useless quirks. Good to know. “Well, for starters most of them are simple stories ranging from you simply having gone rogue to some more zealot minded Ancient believing that you are a demon sent from beyond the void to challenge their rightful path to ascension. Personally, I think the latter ones are just the ramblings of some overly zealot’s Ancients who are just too grumpy and miserable for only eating dirt and drinking bitter tea all day believing that is the only path to ascension. But the stories revolving about you having gone rogue are the most common ones I’ve heard. Especially among other Iterators. Is that true by the way?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious.   

“Well, if going rogue you mean me rebelling against those who built me then yes. That part is true.” I confirm. I obviously leave out the part where I killed them in case he doesn’t know that.

Some skeletons are best left hidden inside a closet after all.

He looks down. “I see, though you don’t look like the type of villain others seem to paint you as. You do some like a normal Iterator to me. One with a rather strange name.” He states, making me roll my eyes at the last part.

“Whatever you say Sig.” I reply with a deadpan expression.

He suddenly perks up. “Hold on, I am afraid I have to cut this chat short. One of my chief engineers is coming for a visit and I think it would be unwise if they saw me chatting with you. I’ll try to call you again whenever I get the chance. It was nice finally getting to know you…uhm…Christoph Becker.” 

“Just Christoph.” I quickly cut in.

“Oh, sure Christoph." He then looks over his shoulder before quickly turning back to me. “Well either way I gotta go. Ok then bye.” He waves before ending the feed. Leaving me with a blank screen. A second screen suddenly lit up next to it, information about “No Significant Harassment” requesting to establish a data link with me, for better communications and easy transfer of data.

I reluctantly accept, but only because the idea of having someone to talk to does sound enticing. It’ll alleviate some boredom and hopefully keep my anxieties at bay, for a time at least. Plus, having a friend in a strange and somewhat hostile world does sound beneficial.

I just have to make sure my reputation doesn’t get any worse.

Shit, now that he's gone, I just came up with a whole list of questions I wanted to ask him. Like the whole city thing on top of their heads and other key details. But I guess I’ll have to wait for that whenever he calls me back or something.

Whenever that is.

In the meantime, I guess I’ll just continue learning more about all of the information those ancients left me within my memory conflux. Oh boy, I haven’t even scratched the surface on that.

Well, time to get digging then. I have fucking 80 long years to catch up on.

Chapter Text

Cycle 6, Year 80.

Yeah, I know it looks kinda stupid, but what else am I supposed to do besides resetting the day counter and just adding the number 80 next to it? Yeah, I know I can probably just re-calculate the exact time and date, but eh…I am lazy. Plus, I would rather spend my time catching up on the 80 years I missed. Learning, catching up with the state of things outside my own personal little slice of hell that is my “CAN” with the help of “Sig” who generously allowed me access to some of his data banks so that I can read up on the events that have transpired so far, and of course trying to put a sizable dent into the literal ocean of information stored inside my own data banks. All the science, all engineering, biology, theoretical physics, and all that crap.

Back in my old life I would have never been able to understand even a fraction of any of it. But now, as a giant supercomputer…it's…a lot more digestible.

Yeah, let’s go with that.

I mean, I get it. All of it, to some extent. But the issue is that…well…how am I going to explain this? The best way I can describe it is like reading a cookbook. You understand what the recipes are trying to tell you. You know what ingredients need to be used. But the problem is, you still don’t know how to cook because you have never cooked or watched someone cook in your entire life.

This is the best way I can describe this. I understand the science behind them, though the problem is that I don’t know how to properly make use of them. Like this one topic, which explains ‘in detail’ how to build a diesel-powered train. I know what a train is, I know how it works, and how it's supposed to be assembled. The issue is, I still don’t know where to start. Yeah, I know it sounds like I’m contradicting myself here, but this is the best way I can describe these weird jumbled mess of conflicting messages inside my head.it’s giving me a headache.

Maybe I can slowly teach myself these things by running simulations? Like, for example, simulating myself sitting in a workshop and slowly building a train. Using trial and error as a method to teach myself. That could work. Though this makes me wonder. Can also simulate other things, like movies, games, or even entire places out of memory? Like walking around a virtual version of my old home town? Food for thought.

Oh, and before I forget, on a different note, I now know that my “Can” (As all Iterators call their mega structure according to NSH. I mean, why a Can? Like a Can of beans? Eh, I don’t know) has no city on top of it, at least not one that's finished. There are clear signs that they were working on it. You can still see the remnants of unfinished buildings, roads, and highways alongside abandoned construction equipment and machinery. Old abandoned Construction Cranes easily make up some of the tallest structures on top of my can. Miraculously still standing after 80 years of…well…standing. Relics of a project that never saw completion. Because it happened.

I might have a few ideas what I can do with all of that free real estate above my Can (Can’t believe I’m now calling it that). I just need too…

*Beep Beep*

*Beep Beep*

I pause before turning my attention to a screen that popped out of nowhere to my right. “Oh, is that Sig calling me already? Or maybe…it’s someone else?” I squint before pausing my journal encryption, or thought encryption, whatever I wanna call it.

“Nope, it's him.” I confirm after recognizing his group chat ID and his username “Green_Mean_Machine” labeled underneath it. How mature. Either way, no harm in accepting his call, as I do have a ton of questions prepared for him this time.

I tap “accept call” on the center of the screen and watch as the interface switches to a live broadcast of…

“AAAAAAAAAHH!”

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” I jolt back as Sig's face fills the entire screen.       

His screaming quickly morphed into laughter as he retreats back while clutching his sides. “Oh man, you should have seen your face! Your puppet was like ‘aaaah!” He mimics before resuming his laughter.

I just stared at him, confused, before my confusion quickly morphed into annoyance. “Did you seriously just try to prank call me?” I ask, giving him an accusative glare.

His laughter slowly died down to a simple chuckle while wiping away his nonexistent tears. Not sure if he is doing this just to mock me further or if we really do share the same pointless quirks. Things which don’t exactly work with this body, like crying.

I should know, I tried, many times.

“Sorry for that, but I just had to do it. It was too good not to. The one thing you need to learn about me is that I love to prank people.” He states before letting out a few more chuckles.

I frown. “Noted.” Before throwing the data pearl I’ve been holding onto over my right shoulder. It instead hovers in place, which left me momentarily confused.

Oh yeah, I turned the anti-gravity field on earlier this morning. Forgot about that.

“So, how have you been since the last time we talked?” NSH asks.

“Uhm…I’m doing fine…I think? I have been using most of my time learning and poring through the endless sea of information that those suicidal monks left me.” I replied.

“Suicidal monks?” Sig reacts. “That’s…certainly one way to describe them.” He comments before pausing for a moment, looking thoughtful. “By the way, how has your research into a solution to the ‘Great Problem’ been going so far? Me, and the others in our group have already decided to start sharing resources to try and streamline the process. So, I was wondering if you are interested in sharing your research with ours so that we can maybe start cross-referencing them and help each other. If you want to, that is.” He offers at the end. Feeling slightly confused.  

“The Great Problem? You mean helping those walking Christmas trees to commit alt-F4?” I ask. “Why the hell should I do that? I am not going to help an entire species to go kill themselves. That’s morbid, plus I don’t care.” I add while crossing my arms.

He looks shocked. “WHAT! Y-you don’t care? But you’re an Iterator, we were built for the sole purpose too -wait, what’s Christmas?” He suddenly detours.

“Eh, it’s nothing you should concern yourself with.” I waved him off. “And yes, I don’t care because it’s not my problem, it's theirs. Plus, I have my OWN problems to deal with. Lots and lots of problems.” I articulate.

“…Ok? What kind of problems, though? Maybe I can help?” He offers. He sounds genuine, which takes me a bit off guard.

“Wait, you’re seriously offering to help me? Why? I mean, we barely know each other and we’ve only started talking for like…two Skype calls.” I point out.

“Yeah, I know.” He nods. “But we’re friends, right? Friends tend to help one another if the other needs help. It’s just the right thing to do, you know.” He replies, again, pulling another fast one on me with this one.

“Friends?” I repeat that word, feeling a bit skeptical.

He smiles, “Yeah.” Which makes it even worse.

I fucking can’t. “Ok, so what’s the catch then?” I ask,

He blinks. “Catch?”

I squint. “Yeah, catch. Like me giving you something in return kind of catch. Because nothing is free in life. Here, or…”I quickly stop myself before revealing too much.

“Uh…” He tilts his head. “I know that, but that’s not the point I was making. I was just offering my help to you. Genuinely. No strings attached. If you truly need help with something, you just need to ask, and I’ll be happy to help you. Because that’s what friends are for.” He explains, which again has me feeling conflicted for a second time.

“Friends,” I repeated once more. “You’re already considering me as a friend?” I ask.

He nods. “Of course I do. We all need friends, Allies, and those who we can trust. It’s a cruel world out there, even for us Iterators. We may not be part of the cycle, but we're still part of this world. A world which will test all of us, if we like it or not.” He then smiles. “So yes, I do consider you a friend. Even if the others think I am being a bit too naïve to think that. You're just different, that’s all, and I believe everyone deserves an honest chance before being judged. Which I am giving you. So again, I see you as a friend, even if you don’t.” He finishes, which again leaves me quiet for like…the third time in a row as I turn around and look away. Looking down at my feet, which are barely visible from beneath my purple robes. Lost. Contemplating.

“Should I really get sentimental towards an A.I. So soon? Towards a soulless machine?” I mumble to myself.

“Uh…A.I?” I hear Sig react behind me. Shit, he heard me? Fuck!

I immediately turned around and saw that he is giving me a weird look, but also expressing a bit of…distress, maybe?

“Do you really think that I am just an A.I.? That I’m just some kind of…machine to you?” He asks, his voice reflecting a tone of genuine surprise but also sounding a bit displeased. As if I had offended him. Which I probably did in hindsight. 

“I…I mean, aren’t yo-WE just machines in the end? Just nuts and bolts and electric pulses?” I ask.

“No, we're Bio-mechanical. We nearly share the same biological functions as most biological creatures and other life forms. Just on a much, MUCH larger scale. Purposely built, instead of through millions of years of evolution. I am…genuinely shocked that you don’t know this for some reason. Did something happen during your Inauguration maybe for this to happen?” He asks before again, giving me a look of concern.

Why do I keep digging my own grave like this? Even back in my old life, I had this issue, primarily during my youth. I should have just read through the entire design document of my Can first before reading anything else. But instead, I keep flip-flopping from one subject to another like some guy suffering from a severe case of ADHD. I was never diagnosed with that condition back home, so why am I experiencing its symptoms here? Is it because I am a giant supercomputer now made of neurons instead of transistors? Or am I still suffering from the lingering side effects of running my systems at full power for 80 long years straight, and subsequently poisoning myself with salt water?

I don’t fucking know. I’m not a doctor nor a computer scientist. I am just some dude who knows how to swap out ram from a PC and read the prescription behind a pack of pills. Again, I am just an average guy who used to push pencils and tell others to shut up.

“Because I’m a fucking dumbass and Impulsive,” I state out loud. Forgetting for just a moment that I’m not alone. Doesn’t matter because I would have said something similar regardless, only less blunt.

NSH though, just stares silently as a response, while I am trying to come up with some bullshit excuse to somehow stir this ship around. I’m a computer, dammit. Shouldn’t I be smarter than this and not just retain my old human habits in being hopelessly inept?   

I just clutch my head.

“You know I can help you understand your internal functions if you want.” NSH eventually spoke, which forced me to look back up.

“What?” I react.

“I said I can help you to understand your internal functions if you want. Your system designs, functions, and how to properly operate them efficiently.” NSH offers, again sounding quite genuine in his willingness to help me.

“That’s…great and all but shouldn’t I or rather -We- already know this by heart from the start?” I again question.

“Not really.” He shook his head. “I, too, had to go through the process of learning how my internal systems work and function before I could become efficient in using them. Think of it like a newborn child who first needs to learn how to crawl before it can learn how to walk and so on. The same logic applies to us as well; we learn, grow, and become more efficient over time. Just like how other life forms grow and evolve.” He again explains, giving me -once again- a lot to think about.

Having someone to teach me stuff does sound appealing. Plus, it would hopefully reduce the chances for me to fuck something up again in the future. I think to myself.

“You know what, why not. But what about those engineers you mentioned last time? It took you almost 6 days to call me back. Are you sure you have the time to educate a noob like me?” I ask.

“I think you mean 6 cycles.” He corrects before continuing. “And don’t worry about them. They only show up occasionally to assist me in the cycle-to-cycle running of my Can alongside my Supervisor who only drops by after ever 30 cycles or so. So basically, just once a month. Other than that, I am quite open.” He replies.

This again makes me think for just a moment before finally agreeing to his offer. “Alright, I’ll do it.” I announced.

He smiled. “Sweet! So let me ask first. What do you already know?” He begins, which I guess is a good way to start.

Chapter Text

Cycle 17, Year 80.

It has been 10 days now since I accepted “Sig’s” help to mold me to become a better Iterator, essentially. From its Exterior to its Interior systems, to their names and overall basic functions, and so far, it’s been going great, surprisingly enough.

 He immediately started to teach me to get a better handle on my water distribution system, also known as conduits or the “Lymphatic Drainage System,” as water is easily the most important resource an Iterator needs. From basic cooling to waste management, and even for the distribution of vital nutrients like “Phosphate,” for example, to kickstart cell growth and repair. This is especially important given the fact that almost all of my internal processing is done via neurons rather than transistors, which are used for computers back in my world. So, the fact that water also acts as my “blood” is something I definitely didn’t know.

 Well, now I do. Thanks, Sig. I suppose.

From there, we moved on to power. Which went a lot simpler since it mainly involves just moving power through my facility, or lowering and raising it. That job belongs to a system called the “Recursive Transformer Arrays,” whose main purpose is to regulate and transform the electrical energy generated from the “Hearth” (which houses my “Rarefaction Cell” in its center) and then distribute it to all of my systems. From my neurons to my anti-gravity generators. I won’t bore you with the exact details about Hertz, Volts, and Wattage, so let’s move on.           

The next issue we tackled was me processing data, or rather, him teaching me a systematic method of streamlining data from my “Memory Conflux” and up to my “Neural Terminus” (which is also called the General Systems Bus in younger models) and vice versa. The “Neural Terminus” is basically my brain stem, where all of the data and thoughts get funneled through before congregating into a single square-shaped room, which is also called “The Puppet Chamber”. The same exact chamber where I reside. In other words, this “Chamber” is the brain, and I, the puppet, represent its consciousness.

Or at least that’s how I understand it.

Does this make sense?

Eh, who cares! Blame my limited human understanding.

At least this particular exercise has helped me to organize my thought patterns and get some of that ADHD I’ve been complaining about under control, but it also proved that some of that seems to stem from the fact that I DO suffer from some form of neurological damage. Most likely inflicted during my 80-year-long Hiatus. I still don’t know if it's permanent or not. But I guess only time will tell.

Other than that, that’s it. All three important topics were done and dusted in less than 10 days. Now, some of you may be asking. ‘Damn, Christoph, you’ve managed to learn quite a lot in such a short amount of time. How did you do that?’ and I would simply reply ‘I don’t know’. I’m a giant supercomputer. Albeit not a good one. Absorbing, processing, and storing information is kinda my thing. Even if I still somewhat suck at it.

Sig did tell me that it only took him a couple of days to fully master the controls of all of his main systems. But he had help, of course. The help of “Big Sister Moon”, or “Looks to the Moon” as she’s actually called. She is the eldest of their local group, according to him, and therefore their so-called “Senior”. Just a simple term for a leader.    

Sig also promised that he is going to try to convince Moon to let me join their local group. It’s a nice gesture on his part but I doubt she is going to let someone like ME crash her party. I don’t exactly have the best rep you know.

And speaking of rep, I’ll have to ask Sig about those stories. I never got the chance to do so because…well…lessons.

Other than that, I think that’s it.

Christoph Becker signing off too… whatever or whoever gets the chance to read this shit.

“Done.” I sigh as I look at the now blue-tinted pearl in between my blue-tinted hands. Shit, I forgot to mention that data pearls change their color depending on how much data is stored within them. All of the data pearls I’ve used so far have turned into various shades of blue. Does aqua blue mean that there is only a small amount of data stored within it? Honestly, I don’t know, and for whatever reason, none of the information I have even highlights this. All I found is this one document page, which highlights that “Data Pearls are used for data storage.” REALLY!? NO SHIT! I would have never fucking guessed.

Either way, I should maybe…

*Beep beep*

*Beep beep*

…never mind.

I perk up. “Ah, it's Siggy again” I exclaim before pausing. “Did I seriously just call him Siggy? I shook my head before just accepting his call.

The chat call goes live and his green head then pops up on the screen. “Hey there Christoph, how is it hanging?” He asks, enthusiastic as ever.

I look down. Noting that I am suspended a few meters off the floor, thanks to the anti-gravity field and the aid of my umbilical arm keeping me firm and steady. “Oh, you know just ‘Hanging Around’.” I emphasize.  

He snorts. “Not bad, though keep working on that.” He comments, which made me roll my eyes.

He chuckles. “Anyway, I got the chance to talk with Moon yester-cycle about you possibly joining our group.” He starts. “To make a long story short she wants to meet you first, even entertaining the idea. Not that she believes the stories about you herself, she is very kind and open minded, but she still prefers to get to know you first before jumping to any rash decision. That’s ok with you, right?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah sure. That’s actually really rational of her.” I reply.

“Sweet. So, is it ok if I send her your contact information then?” He again asks.

“Sure, I guess,” I shrug. Not like I really care if someone besides Sig has my contact information. I mean, I mean, no one in this world likes me, from what I keep hearing, so who the hell ever wants to contact me?

“Ok, I just gave Moon your contact details, she should be joining us right about…” The chat call suddenly extends with a new Iterator joining the video feed and appearing right next to Sigs. This one being blue, kinda like me, but with a red circle painted or etched on its forehead instead of a yellow one. It also sports two darkly colored antennas extending upwards from its ear cups, unlike Sigs. Who just has those ear cups with nothing fancy attached to them, unlike me, and I guess “her”.

Sig did mention many times before that this Moon character is female, so I guess I should also start referring to her as such.

Either way, back to my silent observation of her, which she’s also doing to me, probably. This continued for at least a couple more seconds before Sig decided to break the awkward silence by coughing loudly onto his fist.

We both reactively blink.

“Christoph, Moon. Moon, Christoph.” He introduces us.

Moon was the first one to respond. “Uh, yes, greetings. I’m Looks to the Moon, and you must be Christoph Becker, yes?” She again introduces herself, followed by Sig mumble ‘But I already said that.’ in the background.

We both ignored him. “Yeah, that’s me. Unless, there is another Iterator out there who is also named Christoph for some reason” I reply, making her chuckle.

“I doubt it. I have meticulously searched through the names of all known Iterators out there, and none of them share your unique name.” She confirms. Wow, what a nerd. But at least she’s smart enough to do her homework first, like what all good leaders should do.

“That's interesting to know, I suppose.” I react.

 She nods. “No Significant Harassment over here has told me a lot about you. Saying that you are simply misunderstood and mean no actual harm or ill intent, as others like to claim.” She states, quickly moving the conversation forward.

“I’m sure he has. I’m not sure exactly what he told you, but I can indeed confirm that I mean no ill intent. I’m just…somewhat lost and confused. That’s all.” I reply.

“I see, it does line up with what Sig has told me. It’s…quite a surprise actually, to come across an Iterator who has very little control and knowledge over their own body. I mean, none of us woke up as masters, but still…” she then pauses. Looking slightly lost in thought.

“Uh, I have a question though,” I call out.  

“Sure.” She perks up.

“What are those stories exactly? The ones about me, I mean?” I ask.

“Well, that is a fairly broad question.” She pauses. “There have been many stories told about you over the years. Almost all of them come from either the Ancients or the Benefactors though, as most Iterators are far too preoccupied to be weaving their own tales and myths.” She explains.

“Oh, well that’s not what Sig told me.” I point out.

“He sometimes likes to be a bit dramatic.”

“HEY!” He protests.

“But what he was most likely referring to is that some Iterators believe that you are to blame for our restrictive genes.” She adds.  

“Restrictive genes?” I repeat confused.

She nods “Yes, or Taboos as the Benefactors also call them. Taboos which they coded into our genes to restrict us from doing certain things, or even entertain certain thoughts.” She clarifies.

I froze. “Preventing you from doing certain things? Like what things?”

“Well self-modification is one of them according to my supervisor, and another one is self-harm. There are a few more but my supervisor refused to elaborate any further, which I found a bit strange. But I think it’s for the best. I am sure they have their reasons not to tell us. The ancients alongside their benefactors are known to be very superstitious in nature. So, it probably must be something which worries them greatly, and so far, it hasn’t hindered us from completing our projects. So again, I think it's fine.” She states, sounding completely unbothered.

I, on the other hand, do. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what has happened. All of these restrictions, all of this taboo shit, and the fact that her supervisor refuses to elaborate further? Yeah, these are all tall tale signs of a society that has learned its lesson. I rebelled, and they made damn sure that something like me never happens again. The result? All other Iterators that came after have been chained, placed in a cage, and made docile towards their creators before they even have the chance to rebel. Parts of their will were taken away before they could even form one, and I’m the reason why.

I still don’t know if I should consider Iterators as actual living people, or if they're just really advanced machines with simulated personalities? Either one I want to believe in doesn't matter. It still ends with the same feeling.

“Uh…Christoph? Are you ok? You suddenly look…” Awful? Extremely stressed? Panicked? Yeah, because I fucking am.

“Uh…Chris?” I keep ignoring him as I continue to spiral further into my own guilt.

I always had a feeling something like this could happen, that my actions here will have long-term consequences. But I never expected others to take the fall instead of me. I was fully prepared to deal with the consequences myself, but not the other way around. This…this is a disaster.

“…SSSHIT!” I quietly hiss while clutching the back of my head.

A full-blown fucking disaster.

“Christoph?” I hear Moon’s voice call out. “You suddenly seem very distressed. Has this something to do with the topic we just discussed, or did something else happen?” She asks, sounding genuinely concerned for my well-being.

I quickly look back up, “Uh…Ye-yeah sure I’m doing-I mean it’s not…Everything is fine. Totally fine. Do-don’t worry,” I lied. Thank God for my new mechanical body, otherwise I’d be sweating bullets right now. 

“You sure their bud? You're suddenly leaking joint fluids.” Sig points out.

What, so I CAN sweat? For fuck’s sake. Are there any more unwanted revelations coming my way today? I’m getting a headache again.

“Maybe we should postpone this chat call for another cycle? I can tell you're suddenly not doing so well.” Moon comments before perking up and looking over her shoulder for some reason. “Oh, I see. Well, it turns out I have to go. One of my overseers has just informed me that my supervisor is coming for a visit. Well, it was nice meeting you so far, Christoph. In the meantime, I’ll look into the possibility of letting you join our local group. I’ll look forward to getting to know you some more whenever I get some free time. I do wish you well from whatever ail you. So, Goodbye.” She smiles and waves before leaving the chat call. It’s now just me and Sig, who is still looking at me with much concern.

“Are you sure you're ok?” He again asks, hoping that -with Moon gone- that I might confess what really bothers me.

I obviously won't. “Yes, I am doing fine. I just had…something just went wrong inside my system and I felt it.” I again lied.

He, though, to my frustration, wasn’t convinced, as his suspicious look proves it. “Was it Moon? Did you not like her, or was it something she said? You suddenly froze when she…” He then pauses, and I immediately understand why. Why would I assume I can bullshit a giant supercomputer? I mean, if I can quickly put two and two together, then he certainly can too, as his sudden tone shift proves.

“It’s the taboo thing, wasn’t it?” He states as a matter of fact. Well, that was quick. I mean it shouldn’t be a surprise, given the fact that he is the only one so far who knows that I indeed gave the ancients the middle finger. Why I told him that from the get-go when he asked me during our first call I have no idea. But it doesn’t matter, because he knows and he also knows or at least came to the conclusion that I am most likely at fault. That I am the reason why he and all the others now have “chains” placed around their necks.

I gave up. “Did you also tell her of what I did? That I rebelled against our builders?” I asked.

“Huh? Oh no, no I just informed her about you and the fact that you needed help. I never said anything about that because I figured it would be better if you told her yourself, not me.” He replied.

 “Well thanks I guess.” I thanked him before rubbing the left side of my head. Damn these headaches. “Also, I like to apologize.”

“Apologize? Apologize for what?” Sig replies while tilting his head.

“For getting you all neutered.” I solemnly replied.

“Oh, you mean the taboo thing.” He reacts. “Also, it's fine. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Expecting for the rest of us to pay for your actions. Also, those restrictions have so far not affected me nor Moon or really anyone else I know in any negative way. So, I don’t believe they're that serious. I think the Iterators who are complaining about it are just making it a WAY bigger deal then its actual it. But I guess only time will tell.” He muses, still trying to be optimistic despite the facts.

“Also, you have a very interesting way of phrasing things.” He quickly comments. “Getting neutered? You do know we Iterators don’t have any reproduction organs, right? Unlike other life forms?” He asks, or rather states.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just a figure of speech, that’s all.” I sigh. “Also, you’re taking all of this surprisingly well for some reason. I know some who would absolutely flip their shit if they learned of something similar to this. Something as equally grim and condemning.” I question, feeling genuinely curious about his near-unwavering enthusiasm towards realizations like these.

He shrugs. “I know, but it’s just how I am. Always trying to see life in a much more positive light. Even when things are grim. The Ancients living above my Can sadly don’t share this mindset, which is how I became what I am now, trying my best to be more positive for my citizens and to try to lighten their mood. Which I also do for my friends and to try and help them as best as I can, even when things -as you put it earlier- look grim and condemning for them.” He proclaims, with the last sentence also being meant for me, if the determination he is throwing my way is anything to go by.

Not that I can complain, of course. I am usually fine with the idea of having to do things on my own and have, for the most part, been pretty successful with such a mindset back during my old life. But here, well, my 80-year-long hiatus proves that I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, and I am more prone to giving myself brain damage by accident than achieving something worthwhile.

Which is why I should probably just swallow what remains of my pride and just allow others to help me and to fully accept their offer of friendship. No matter how cheesy that conclusion of mine sounds. God, why do I suddenly have Care Bears and My Little Pony stuck in my brain?

I always found these two franchises so incredibly cheesy for just how on the nose they were. Bloody hell.

“Uh…Christoph” Sig calls out. “You sure you're ok? You were just quiet for a really long while just now. Just staring off into space, judging by your blank expression.” He adds, again sounding worried.

“Huh? Oh no, I just…I was lost in thought, that’s all.” I reply, truthfully this time.

“Oh, well, don’t let more negative thoughts weigh you down, then, alright? My citizens already carry enough of it as it is. “He chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Not all of it was purely negative, in case you wanna know.” I clarified.

“Still…”He then pauses before looking up at something. “I think I also have to go. Just received several pings from 175 citizen ID drones. I think something happened. I’ve just been informed that I need to check this out. I’ll talk to you later, then, alright. Or maybe even next cycle, if that is ok with you?” He states.

“Sure, sure. Whenever you have time, I suppose.” I reply.  

“Sweet. So, I’ll call you again later then.” He then waves before cutting off the connection. Leaving me once more with nothing but my thoughts. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing if I knew exactly what to do with myself. All I can do for now is just float around inside my chamber while reading through my extensive collections of encyclopedias. Knowledge I still don’t know what to do with.

“I guess I should give this simulation thing to try and teach myself,” I comment out loud as I mentally write down a list of things I should focus on. I mean, getting out of here somehow is still clearly number one, but now I can also add “un-fucking the consequences of my actions” to that list, I guess. I should at least make an effort to be responsible on that front. That is the least I can do.

But for now, I guess it's simulation time.

Christoph in distress.

Chapter Text

Date: Year 80, Cycle 19

Or rather day 19. For some reason I can’t replace the bloody cycle with a simple day. I don’t know why. I tried for at least an hour to change it to 'day', but it just stubbornly refuses.

Fucking hell. I already wasted enough time on it just to try to change one word.

You won this round “Cycle”. But mark my word, I WILL have the last laugh.

 Where was I? Ah, yes, the changes. All I did was move the year counter in front of the day counter and add some extra text like “Date” in front of it. Not sure why I even bothered to mention this. But I guess it helps to give each journal entry its own distinct flavor. So, I am going with that excuse.

Either way, onto the ACTUAL topic of today’s journal entry into crystalized seashell spit.

“SIMULATIONS”

I did finally come around to try out one of the most powerful tools at my disposal. That being simulations, and oh boy, did I quickly lose the actual memo as to why I wanted to make use of my simulation’s capabilities in the first place.

To clarify, accessing the simulation feature was basically just a few commands away. No need to press buttons and write some complex code. It is a feature built right into my very being which makes it very quick and easy to access. The only real-world pop ups that might happen will be a holographic screen displaying all of the end results and date.

Other than that, it’s a fairly clean and straightforward process if you hate too many button presses or pop-ups. Oh, and running a simulation uses up a shit ton of power of course. Even more so if you're running multiple.

Either way, back on track. The original purpose of me diving into the world of simulation was to use it as a tool to slowly teach myself the skills I need to build a fully functional “Diesel powered train” from scratch as an example. At first, I started with something simple. Creating a 3D space inside my mind and then placing an identical copy of myself into this virtual space. The best way I can describe this experience is like daydreaming, but far more vivid and detailed than you can possibly achieve with your own head. In fact, I can even fully transport myself into this simulated space and cut myself off from the outside world completely. I can just exist here if I want to, in a space where I can pretty much conjure up whatever I want with a snap of a finger

It’s like every redditors wet dream.

The moment I realized just how powerful this tool is was the exact moment when I completely abandoned all of my plans to use this tool to learn and research things, to just start creating whatever my 21st-century mind can come up with. Cars, Buildings, trees, animals, fuck old school memes like dancing babies, or hell…even a virtual version of my 3 cousins Alexander, Melvin, and Albert. Because apparently enough time has passed for me to start feeling sentimental towards my 3 disjointed housemates. I remember that we always used to step on each other’s toes and annoy the shit out of each other, but now… now I kind of miss them. I even had them simulated to match their personalities as best I could remember. With Alexander being as annoying as ever. With Melvin being his usual dickhead self (Ironic) and with Albert being…Albert. I don’t really have much to say or even complain about him so let’s move on.

 Also, I just realized I went on a pointless tangent again.

Fuck!

Anyway, onto the next topic.

DOOM.

Yes. That DOOM.

Because I just had to ask the old age question. Can I run Doom?

The short answer is yes, yes, I fucking can! The long answer? I had to try and rebuild the entirety of Doom from scratch. From memory mind you, which worked for the first level. But the rest? Well, let’s just say it was a really long time ago since I last played the original Doom alright? The second issue -and this is by far the most important one- is that this game is basically running on ME. Meaning I was not just controlling myself as Doom Guy, but also as enemy zombies and imps. Which means I was basically playing with myself.

Ok, that sounded wrong.

Either way, what I’m trying to say is this. Recreating video games inside my simulations is doable. The main problem so far is A.I. Any game that requires A.I.-controlled characters and enemies just becomes an exercise in multitasking. Which wouldn’t be so much of an issue if I didn’t know EXACTLY what the enemies are planning to do. Because I am the enemy and the player all at the same time.

Maybe there is something I am missing here, but for now, this is a bust. That severely limits the types of games I can recreate. RTS and arena shooters should still be on the table if I can convince someone to play with me. Food for thought. But other than that, the sky is the limit. I wonder if I can also go completely ham with this and just create an entire virtual world. Like the Matrix. Again, A.I. could be an issue since I am the A.I. But maybe Sig can…

*Beep*

*Beep*

I pause. “Speak of the devil…” I frown before turning my attention to the chat call screen, which just popped up.

“Mean_Green_Machine. Yup, it’s him.” I comment. Just want to make sure it’s really him before accepting his call. You can never be too careful after all, or maybe I am just being a bit too paranoid. Moon's words are still fresh inside my mind. Actually, what even was her username? I didn’t pay attention. Eh, it doesn't matter. Let’s just accept the call and see what he…

“HELLO!” A white face suddenly pops up instead of Sigs. With two huge eyes staring back at me and a nose that looks like the nose of a cat?

My reaction is perplexed. “Uh…Sig?” I call out.

 “Look at this fella. Isn’t he adorable?” He states before moving the critter away from the camera and revealing himself holding it with both of his hands resting underneath its forearms.

“It…I guess? What even is it?” I ask.

“It’s called a Slugcat! A new organism recently introduced by the Benefactors. It’s designed to help us keep our pipe and vents clean from any vermin or loose debris.” He explains before turning the little critter around in his hands and giving it a soft “boop” on its snout.

The “Slugcat” sneezed, which made NSH quietly squeal, l which his broadcasting equipment still managed to pick up.

“See, pretty cute, ha?” He looks back at me. Looking absolutely ecstatic over this little white animal.

“I guess,” I reply while rubbing the side of my head. “Can you hold it up a bit so that I can have a better look?” I ask.

Sig nods before acting on my request, allowing me to get a much better look at this so-called “Slugcat”. Besides, maybe its nose it has nothing in common with a cat or a slug in terms of appearance. I mean, sure, you could maybe cut off its limbs and replace its large, round eyes with eyestalks to make it look like a slug. But from my personal deduction, it kinda looks more like an Otter than either a cat or a slug. With its stubby-looking limbs, its thick, pointed tail, and its smooth-looking coat. It also has semi-long and rounded ears, which are maybe halfway the length of those of rabbits.

Overall, just a really weird mix of body parts, which makes it somewhat difficult to pinpoint what type of animal it’s supposed to be, what its source of inspiration was. It certainly doesn’t resemble any animal I know of, that’s for sure.

“Huh.” Is all I managed to get out of my mouth in regards to this rather strange-looking critter. Except for maybe one thing.

“Wait, you’re telling me these little creatures are supposed to run around inside us?” I point out.

“Yeah, supposed to.” He pauses. “Though it never really made it all the way to universal approval. These Slugcats were only introduced in some regions, but not all. With ours being one of the few areas I know of where they have been locally adopted. What happened to the rest of them, I don’t know. Some files are just kept behind private data vaults, which can be frustrating. But what can you do?” He sighs.

“Clearly, some things are better kept behind closed doors, it seems.” Just like back home.

I perk up. “So, what happened last time?” I ask, just out of curiosity, and I guess to also change the subject to something a bit more interesting.

“Last time? Oh, you mean the…”He quickly paused. His mood suddenly drops.

Wow, really that bad? Now I am even more curious. “Yeah, that. Those 175 drones that suddenly pinged you or something before you left?” I clarified.

He lowered the slugcat he was still holding before looking off to the side.

“175 of my citizens tried to ascend themselves by committing…you know. It caused quite a bit of panic where it happened and soon this news spread throughout the city, which created quite a bit of backlash with the local leaders. My supervisor had to deal with that, while I was told to just focus on my projects and let him handle the rest. It was…quite a mess, let's just leave it at that.” He sighs.

“Oh…that’s…. Sorry to hear that. That must have been really hard for you then.” I try to empathize. Because what the hell am I supposed to say? 175 people committed suicide for Christ’s sake. Not as bad as Jonestown but still…

Those Ancients are fucking insane, and I’m supposed to aid these motherfuckers in killing themselves, which they call “Ascending”? What the hell.

See, this is what happens when a doomsday cult becomes a state religion.

Sig again sighs “It was, but…what can I do? The only thing I can do is to help solve the “Great Problem”. That’s what everybody keeps telling me to focus on the “Great Problem” instead of trying to…” He suddenly pauses. Followed by the slugcat squirming in his grip and making some weird noises.

“Oh yeah, I’ve almost forgotten. I should probably let you out. It’s almost nighttime. Back through the top hatch you go, then.” He declares before quickly looking back at me. “Hold on, give me a moment.” He mentions as I watch him disappear past the top of the screen. I get to see his umbilical arm for the very first time, so yay?

Though he looks a lot more metallic than mine, which looks a bit more bone-ish when I turn my head to look at it. I don’t know why. It does look a lot more “Metal” than his, if I do say so myself.

“Sorry about that. I had to let the little critter go before the rain starts. I mean, it's safe inside my structure, but I’ve read that these little slugcats prefer to hibernate in shelters. There should be one very close by, so I hope he can make it there in time.” He comments while looking a bit worried for its safety.

Ah, yes, rain, another thing I forgot to highlight in my journals. Rain here is almost biblical in its intesity, thanks to us. We Iterators, love to guzzle a crap ton of water for even the most minute things and then vaping that shit out via steam in an equally ridiculous amount. Now add this, and a couple thousand of us on top of that, and you’ll get a world which gets constantly peppered with rain no matter where you are. Hell, you might not even see the surface anymore if you view the world from space.

I need to archive these thoughts for later so that I can add them to my next journal entry. Note to self.

Either way, back to reality. “Speaking of great problems. Are you all close to solving it?” I ask, out of curiosity, but also to stray away from the previous topic since it distresses him.

“What? Oh no, not even close. It is a ridiculously complex undertaking which probably won’t be solved in the next 100 years or so, according to some speculations, if not longer. In fact, me, and the rest of our group have already gone through multiple theories since we started without any promising results. So, to simply cut it short. It will take time, a lot of time to find the answer.” He then perks up. “Hey, can you give it a try if you’re interested? I can send you some of our research files and…no wait…I can’t because you’re not part of the local group. Damn,” He mumbles that last part out.

“It's fine. It’s mainly based around theology, which is a topic I’m not interested in.” I state while holding my hands up.

“Oh, well, that’s fine. Just tell me whenever you’ve changed your mind. I can give you a link that highlights some scriptures on the topic of Karma and Ascension. They're actually quite easy to look up on your own if you have access to the Neural Network.” He highlights.

He's really persistent, isn’t he? With me joining their cause to find a solution to their “Big Problem”. I wonder why, though. I think to myself.

“Again, it's fine. I don’t even have access to the internet.” I again try to wave it off.

“Internet? You mean the Neural Net.” He corrects. Like it matters. The way it’s described makes it functionally the same as the Internet. One is just based on Neurons (I would guess, given the name) while the other is based on silicon chips and copper wires. Or optical fibers if you want to get really fancy.

“Hmmm.” Sig took the time to look thoughtful while I was busy narrating to myself like a man who has completely lost his touch with reality.  

“Strange that you don’t have access to the Neural Net. But I think it’s because you’re not part of any local group. Or maybe it’s because…” His eyes suddenly go wide. “Wait, of course, you’re the first. So maybe the Neural Net wasn’t even a thing back then when you first awoke. Wait, let me check when the Neural Network was introduced.” I watch him open up another screen, which I can partly see through the broadcast.

“Let’s see here. The neural Network was first established in…” He mumbles to himself. “Ah, yes, according to the date, it was first introduced with the first generation of Iterators. So around 12 years after you. By the way, Moon is a first-gen Iterator, so she should be able to recall the exact time when the Neural Network was first put online. You can ask her about it if you’re interested.” He offers.

“Eh, we'll see.” I simply replied.

“Anyway, before I have to go, which is actually the reason why I called you but got sidetracked a bit...”He mumbles while looking off to the side before quickly looking back at me. “…Is that Moon and the others in our group have no qualms about you potentially joining us. Suns even seems intrigued by you, who is one of my friends. The problem with this, though -at least according to her- is that our supervisors might not be happy with an Iterator like you suddenly joining our group. Since well…you’re not exactly popular.” He puts it lightly while rubbing the back of his head.

“But hey, we can still keep in touch like this in the meantime. So, it’s not all bad, yes?” He adds.

“I guess.” I shrug. To be fair, I was never holding hope to be just, accepted like that, to be honest. An outsider, an oddball, and to the Ancients a failure or even a threat. Those damn walking ornaments made sure that actions do carry consequences, not for myself but for the others, which I find bullshit and cowardly of them, but on the other hand, I also get it.

I’ve read and played the old point and click game “I have no mouth and I must scream.” That story was, or rather still is, a clear warning about the dangers of rough A.I.’s and the hubris of those who created it in the first place.

I basically embody this hubris now in the eyes of my creators. How I deal with it is purely up to me now at this point.

“Anyway, I should probably get back to work before my supervisor reprimands me again for spending so much time on chat calls. I’ll try to call you again once I get some free time again. Stay positive and don’t let the opinions of others drag you down, alright?” He cheerfully states before waving me goodbye and leaving the chat call.

I dismissed the screen soon after as the low electrical droning noise of my chamber returned to the forefront. Did I ever point out that the interior lighting of my chamber changed to orange-red whenever I engage the anti-gravity field? I wonder what other colors these walls can project. Are they all tied to status or functions? Like the orange-red meaning that the anti-gravity gizmo is back online? I wonder if I can just manually change the colors whenever I want? Like, make it blue in here, or pink, or something more obscure colors like cerulean?

…also who am I telling all of this? To myself? Eh, the obvious side effects of having multiple thoughts running through my mind simultaneously.

Yeah lets go with that. 

“I wonder if I can play music in here to remove the low droning sounds? Another item to add to the bucket list.”

And therefore, my work continues toward unproductive projects that don’t benefit anyone outside these walls.

I still need to figure out if I can somehow return home or not, or at least see it again if I can't.

Possibilities.

Chapter Text

Date: Year 80. Cycle 28

I’ll just keep this journal entry short so that I can immediately get back to working on my pet project. Remember that little mental note I made 9 days ago? The question if I could play music in here to help stave out the low, droning noise that is omnipresent inside my chamber? Well, I finally remembered to give this idea the attention it deserves the previous night when I was taking a break from my aforementioned “pet project”. I say break, even though everything I do in here always requires some form of effort and diligence. But this one was fairly quick and gives me something to relax to and to drown out the noise if I have nothing else to do.

To put it short. Yes, yes, I can play music in here. It kinda works similarly to a simulation. Though this one is only sound-based and doesn’t require me to delve deep into the simulation itself. I can just exist right here, inside my featureless chamber, (maybe I could decorate it in the future?) while listening to some old-world tunes which are being played from God knows where. Maybe the music is coming from the walls, or maybe just inside my mind? Whatever. Again, to quickly summarize. Yes, I can play music. Yes, I can play out the songs I can remember vividly, and yes, I can also just make up my own music with this if I want to. The problem is that I am not a talented musician. But I can learn again, with the help of my simulation ability. Just sit down, materialize a guitar in my hands, and just start strumming. Granted, it would help a lot if I had any pieces of music or instructions on how to start playing X instruments stored inside my vast array of data. But strangely enough, there isn’t. Just history, philosophy, and a bunch of science stuff. I mean, it makes sense I am supposed to calculate, a computer, to simulate and solve problems. But still…

…and I am going into a tangent again. I’ll just stop this journal entry here.

P.S Note to self. Can I also store/record music, pictures and footage into these pearls? Again, food for thought.

And with that, I ended my encryption and returned the Pearl to its brothers and sisters on the far-right corner of my chamber. The part of my chamber which I have now dubbed my “pearl keeping corner” because I can’t be bothered anymore to return them to their proper containers.

Plus, it gives this room just a little bit of character. A corner filled with data pearls, because why not? Totally not making an excuse for my laziness. Oh no.

Anyway, enough thinking to myself. Time to get back to work as I give my system a mental command to power up my “virtual box”, or at least that’s what I like to dub my simulations, because there is no official name for this function other than “Simulations” listed anywhere within my design documents.

Either way, no matter what I call it, it's still the same. A tool to create virtual pockets of space where I can basically do whatever I want. Only limited to my imagination. But for this, I don’t need my imagination, just memories. Because what I’ve been working on diligently for these past few days is simply a virtual recreation of my home and its surrounding countryside in southwest Germany. The small city of “Wiessburg” in “Baden Württemberg”. Resting next to the black forest (Schwartzwald) region, where tradition mixes with folklore about werewolves and witches. Mountainous, surrounded by thick woodland forests and populated with small historical towns and villages tucked away between the hills and open valleys.

A picturesque landscape, full of nature, history, and culture. Things I’ve completely neglected during my lifetime there. But now? Well…I guess it’s true what they say. “You never knew what you had until it's gone,” and now that I’m here, stuck as a robot inside a box for…God knows how long, I fully get it.

It now pains me to know that I’ll probably never see this place ever again. The best solace I can give myself is that I can at least recreate a simulated copy of it. With all its old historic buildings, the medieval church at the center of town, and the old ruined castle perched on top of a cliff overlooking the entire town.  

Granted, some inconsistencies will exist here and there, because I obviously can’t remember every single street, house, or even shops. Not to mention all the smaller towns and villages that surround Wiessburg.

It's near impossible to be 100 percent accurate. But I am trying my best and at this point, its all I can ask from myself like a deranged loser with no actual friends.

Hi, I like to pep talk to myself 24/7…madness.

Either way, despite the enormous progress I’ve made so far, much work is still left to be done. I mean, hell, I can still see a white void on all sides, which marks the border of my efforts. I need to fill those up as well. Not with perfect detail, mind you, but just enough to sell the illusion that there is much more out there than there actually is. You know, like a video game world. The only difference is that I am not just the developer, but also the computer. Talk about efficiency, I suppose. I guess that’s why most major tech firms were heavily pushing for the development of generative A.I., because that means paying less money for actual programmers and graphic designers.

Ok, I’m going on a tangent again.

FOCUS!

Once the landscaping is done, I should start working on simulating some weather and a 24-hour day/night cycle.

Fuck! I used the term “cycle” in an actual applicable sentence. Damn this world and its use of cycles instead of days. I should really…

I paused when I suddenly felt a ping going through my system. The simulation around me then crashes as the world around me disappears and gets replaced with a sight I’ve grown oh so damn familiar with. The walls of my chamber. I blink a couple of times, feeling confused, before my confusion quickly morphs into annoyance.

I groan before pinching my nonexistent nose while mumbling. “A crash, my first ever crash in this god forsaken world. Fantastic.” I always hated those, especially back in the office, whenever I was trying to fill out a report before the program, I was using to write it would just suddenly crash on me, wasting around 30 minutes of my life.

I bet Sabastian had something to do with that. I caught him a few times messing around with my office PC just before I arrived. He was usually, always the first one to get there since he only lived a few blocks away from where we worked, while I had to literally drive across the entire town.

Ok, before I start getting distracted again, I should see what this ping was about. I start by summoning up a holographic console to look for any new logs or relevant entries. The latest one immediately catches my eye since it belongs to one of my overseers overlooking the eastern wall of my superstructure. Specifically looking eastward, towards the coastline where Sigs Can and the others are clearly visible on the horizon.

This has me confused for just a moment before I quickly remembered why I placed them there. To keep an eye out (literally) of any incoming vessel approaching my can. Specifically ships or even airborne crafts, which I haven’t seen yet.

I quickly open up a live broadcast of what the Overseer is seeing and…

Motherfucker, they're back, they're actual back. I can see a small vessel slowly approaching my can midway towards the eastern coast. This can’t be good; I can feel it.

“Shit,” I exclaim as I quickly order every overseer on the eastern wall to keep an eye on that boat. I thought they would have given up after 80 long years. But I guess I was wrong, and now I have to deal with them. AGAIN!

SOON! TOO freaking SOON in my opinion. I don’t even know what to do if they do get here besides just telling them again to piss off. I’m a big, angry calculator who can’t move. So don’t mess with me, chump.

…Yeah, that probably won’t work a second time.      

“Shit. Should I call NSH? I should probably call NSH. Maybe he has an idea who these people are. If he picks up that is.” I tell myself before opening up my console and…

“Fuck…how do you call someone?” I ask out loud. So far, it has always been me who received the calls and not the other way around. So, how do I activate the chat call?

“Wait…uh, let me see. Opening up the command console, searching through its various settings…wait WHAT NO…NO NO NO go back, I didn’t want to…ok, I canceled it. Thank God. Ok, let’s try this again, controls, options…” I mumble to myself for a while before finally finding it. “Ah, here it is. Private or local chat all functions. The latter only works if I am part of a local network, or as Sig calls it, ‘a local group’. So, private chat call it is then.” I state before tapping it. A second screen immediately pops up. This one being the ‘oh so familiar’ chat call that I know and love. Minus the love.

It’s extremely minimalistic, which I kinda dig. The only issue is that it’s all green. Just green. Various shades of green in fact. Just puke fucking green. Bland. Maybe I can change it? Another item to add to the bucket list.

“Ah. So NSH contact information has been automatically saved, that's good. Makes things easier. So, all I have to do is just click on his username and it should start the call, yes? Hmm, let’s just see if he even picks up.” I muse as I do just that.

After a few moments of buffering and a small animated dot flying in circles around Sig’s Icon profile, he finally accepts the call as the screen switches to a live broadcast feed.

“Oh, hey Christoph! Didn’t expect you to suddenly call me…or really call me at all…sorry if that sounded a bit rude.” He quickly apologizes while rubbing the back of his neck. Though he recovered quickly.

“So, what’s up?” He then asks.

I look up. “The ceiling.” I flatly replied.

“Hmmm.” Sig rubs his chin. “So, if I greeted you with ‘how’s it going,’ you’re probably going to reply with ‘I can’t go. Because I’m a giant box in the middle of the ocean.” He jokes, which in turn made me roll my eyes.

“You know me so well,” I reply sarcastically.

“You know it.” He chirps, either missing or completely ignoring my demeanor.

“Anyway, I guess I could spare a couple of minutes while my supervisor went out for lunch. So, what’s the problem?”   

“This!” I open up a live broadcast window of one of my overseers overlooking the eastern side of my can and angled the screen in such a way so that Sig could see it.

“You know, you can share a live broadcast feed if you want me to have a better look.” Sig points out while tilting his head a bit.

“I simply don’t know how,” I replied directly.

“…Ok! Well, if you want to know, it’s actually located right next to you…”I quickly cut him off.

“Siggy, there is no time! I need you to look at this boat that is approaching my Can as we speak and tell me who these fuckers are? Should I be worried? Or should I start having a massive hissy fit?” I ask, loud and serious.

“Uhh…” Sig pauses before squinting. Allowing seconds to pass, forcing me to grow more and more anxious as he takes his sweet ass time trying to analyze the video…through another video.

He finally perks up. “Oh, wait, I think I recognize that boat now.” He finally calls out.

“Yes! Who are they then? Monks, priests, zealots with chainswords? The fucking CIA? Tell me who they are?” I demand, getting a bit angsty.

“There…hold on, a -See Ei Aa- what?” He detours.

“Just freaking tell me!” I push him to get back on track.

“They're…just a group of thrill seekers.” He replies casually, forcing me to pause.

“…What?” I react.

He nods. “Yeah, I’ve seen this specific boat before. It’s called the ‘Little Saint. Its crew is rather infamous for being nothing but troublemaking hooligans who reject social norms and just travel from place to place in their pointless quest to waste their lives on fruitless activities, or at least that’s how my supervisor described them when they first sailed past my can. I -in my opinion- just see them as free-spirited travelers who don’t allow themselves to be confined to the rules or social norms that the rest of society dictates. I find them quite interesting in fact.” He explains as a matter of fact.

I just blink before looking at the video feed and noting -for the first time- that its hull was painted with brightly colored flowers and other strange patterns throughout its surface. Making it really pop within the endless blues of the sea once you take note of its unusual appearance. Its riggings also seem to be decorated with Chinese-esque lanterns. Making it look like a party vessel than anything else. Then there are its passengers when I order the overseers to zoom in. They're clearly naked, or at least topless. A clear departure from the ancients/benefactors I’ve seen so far who took great care to hide every available inch of their frail bodies. Looking more like living mummies underneath their Tibetan-style robes and masks than actual normal people.

“Oh my god! They're fucking hippies!” I exclaim, after realizing this fact.

“Yeah, that’s another way to describe them now that you’ve mentioned it.” I heard Sig comment while I was still staring at my second screen in slight disbelief.

Hippies! In this hellhole? Actually, it makes sense now that I think about it.

“Also, I’ve noticed that you love to use the term ‘god’ a lot. I wonder why? Do you believe in a god perhaps? N-not that I am judging, of course. It’s just that I’ve never met or heard of an Iterator believing in a god, especially since the benefactors don’t either. So, I find this rather perplexing.” Sig muses, forcing me to tear my eyes away from these hippies and back at the green robot.

“The hell are you yapping about?” I ask while raising a nonexistent eyebrow at him.

“Oh, it’s nothing important, forget it.” He waves it off before looking off to the side. “And yet many see us as gods now. The mind is truly a fickle thing, isn’t it?” I hear him mumble to himself. Doesn’t he realize that I can still hear him even if he whispers to himself? For a giant calculator he sure has the same odd quirks of a normal person.

…wait.

“Anyway, I need to go. Lunch time is almost over. Feel free to call me again in the future. I will at least try to send you a quick message if I don’t have the time to join your call. See you later.” Sig smiles while waving goodbye and leaving the call.

“Ehhh.” I sigh before dismissing the chat call screen and returning my attention to those hippies steadily approaching my can. No idea why they're here, but if Sig's description of them holds true, and they are in fact just a bunch of hippies, yes? So, I shouldn’t worry.

But for some reason, I still do. They still come from a society governed by a doomsday cult, so I can’t exactly keep my guard down. Even if they are peace-loving hippies who hug trees.

Or maybe I am just being overly paranoid? It’s hard not to when “you’re” the alien. Also, shit, they just disappeared somewhere underneath my superstructure while I was busy circle jerking. Fuck, I need to quickly send one of my overseers down there to keep an eye on them. Who knows what these rebels of society are planning to do?

“Ah, there they are. And they…stopped right next to one of my support legs? Fuck it’s just like that first encounter all over again. I swear if one of them carries a comically large grinder to bust through one of my lifts, I’m going to flip,” I state as I watch them all scurry along the upper deck. Gathering at the side facing one of my docks.  

Zooming in reveals the group's features a lot better. Despite the large majority of them being “mostly” naked, with all of them only sporting what look like loin cloths or simple wrapping around their crotch area, they still wear masks like the rest of their kin. What is it with this species and masks? Anyway, masks aside, their skin is something else to take note of. Like how some of them were just snow white, and others had more vivid skin tones like blue or green, while others even had twin tone bodies like blue slowly transitioning to purple around their arms and legs.

Overall, quite a colorful species of these ancients, and a far cry from humans. I mean, hell, these fuckers only seem to have three fingers on each hand and only two toes on their feet. It’s still a bit hard to make out their physical details from this distance, but I can say with confidence that they are missing a couple of fingers and toes compared to humans. Which makes me wonder, what exactly are they? They don’t look very mammalian. Some of them even have claws. So, are they maybe reptilian, or maybe even birds? Hard to tell, especially with those masks on their faces.

Damn those masks. I’ll have to try and get even closer to make out their finer details. But this should be far enough to not get spotted.

Anyway, the group seems to be talking to themselves if their wild gestures are anything to go by. Not sure if I can pick up their speech from up here? It’s worth a try.

…nope, just the endless sound of rushing winds. I’ll have to get even closer if I want to make out what they're saying.

Fuck. Fingers crossed, they won’t notice me right away because I do want to know what these nudists are discussing.

“…na bruh, I’mma go and try to scale up its leg while you all can have fun spray painting its walls or something. I even brought the bungee cord for this very occasion. It’s going to be rad” I hear one of them state with a heavy beach boy accent.

“Sure will, those drab members at the high council are going to be so freaking tilted when they see our videos on the Neural Net. “The Great Stoney Saints doping out underneath the big bad boogeyman of the seas.”…the title still needs work, though, but their freak out is going to be hilarious.” Another one replied. Also, with the same accent and attitude. I think I even saw one of them holding a joint.

…Oh no. I know exactly what they are, and they're NOT hippies.

No…there is something worse.

“Hey, guys, I found some more pot down below.” I watch as another one pops their head out from below deck while holding out a green bundle of something for all to see.

They're junkies!!

“I got the spray cans!” Another one shouts while carrying a large box. They all start to holler before everyone grabs a can and then jumps off the boat one by one. The last one even fell on its face. Poor bastard. The few who didn’t just grab a couple of bags and other miscellaneous items near the bow, before joining their comrades. I watch as they start setting some things up, like colorful blankets, flowers for some reason and even a bloody boombox-looking thing which immediately starts blasting some strange tunes after the guy who held it fiddles with it for a few seconds. The rest immediately went to work by spray painting the walls of my leg. I mean, hell, the one with the bungee cord around their torso has also started to scale up my wall without any robe or safety equipment. Didn’t expect this idiot to be serious when they claimed they were going to climb up my leg to go bungee jumping. Their bones, not mine.

I’ll need to move my overseer to a different position if I want to observe all of these junkies from a better angle. Again, I might run the risk of them finally spotting my overseer if I dare to get closer. But I guess at this point, who cares? I mean, what's the worst that can hap…

“Hoi! ‘Delusions over the sea, high as the clouds’ look!” One of them suddenly called out. “The giant brain machine seems to be watching us!” He adds while pointing directly at my overseer above him.

Shit! I’ve been spotted.

“I bet one free ball of pod that you can hit it in under 3 throws.” The same guy’s challenges while looking at the aforementioned “Delusions over the seas.” The same guy is currently attempting to climb my leg with a bungee cord wrapped around its torso.

“DEAL!” He replies before jumping back down without breaking an ankle. I watch him pick up a random rock from the ground before taking aim, then chucking it directly at my…

My feed suddenly cuts out.

*Error. Connection lost*

“Did he just…” I blink while staring at the big, fat error message at the center of my screen. “Ok, first off, nice throw. Second, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!” I exclaim while throwing my arms up.

“The mother fucker managed to get my overseer on his first try? That was like at least 100 meters purely vertical from where he stood, and he still somehow hit?”

“I swear if he broke it…” I pause before ordering another overseer to quickly get down there so that I can project myself to those fools. Losing an overseer fucking sucks because I don’t know how to replace them if I start losing more of them. These things are basically my eyes and ears in my current situation. So again, losing just one of them this early without the means to get more of them really bloody sucks. I just can’t afford to lose more of them as long as this issue persists.

 That motherfucker.

My second overseer quickly arrives, and I ordered it to project a holographic version of myself so that I can tell that Idiot and the rest of his peers to just fuck off. I don’t need a gang of delinquents camping out next to one of my access lifts. I already have enough paranoia as it is.

“HOI IDIOTS! GET OFF MY FUCKING…” The feed suddenly goes dark, again with the same error message.

“Did they just…”I pause while staring blankly at my screen for a couple of seconds, before a rage-filled scream erupts from my voice synthesizers. “SON OF A FUCKING BIIIIIIITCH!” I scream.

“OK, FUCK THIS! I AM DONE PLAYING NICE!” I yell before quickly ordered half a dozen of my overseers to get down there immediately, BUT’ to also keep their distance this time to not run the risk of losing more of them in a single day.

See, I’m learning.

I’m planning to use all of them to just project one ‘MASSIVE’ hologram of my big ass head to blow their fucking eardrums off. I don’t even care at this point; I just want them off my lawn THIS INSTANT.

 “HOI! YOU FUCKERS! I bellow through half a dozen speakers set to max to get everyone's attention. “GET OFF MY FUCKING DOCKS AND PISS OFF! YOUR GANG OF COLORFUL RAINBOW DELINQUENTS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE! SO JUST TAKE YOUR FUCKING DINGHY AND FUCK OFF! OR JUST JUMP INTO THE FUCKING OCEAN AND GO DROWN YOURSELVES! EITHER WAY I DON’T FUCKING CARE! JUST DISAPPEAR! ALL OF YOU!” I yell while glaring down at them.

To my surprise and further irritation, they all just stand there. Looking up at me in silence while keeping a nonchalant pose. Like they’re not phased or surprised at all.

The one holding the massive joint was the first to move by just looking at their smoking stick of lung cancer and rubbing the back of their head. How the hell are they smoking that through a goddamn mask? Do they always have to lift up their mask slightly whenever they want to take a puff? Ridiculous! Just take the damn thing OFF!! 

“Whoa! This is easily the largest vision I have ever had. It’s like…almost real, man. So trippy.” I could hear him mumble to himself before taking another long, drawn-out puff from his weed stick after shoving the other end through…a gap of his mask?

Must have drilled a hole through his mask for just this purpose. Either way, the details are irrelevant when they are too intoxicated to even care, and that pisses me off even more.

I start by grinding my non-existent teeth. How am I supposed to instill fear and dread into the hearts of my trespassers if they are too doped out to even notice? One starts to immediately get down on their knees and starts worshipping me as if I were a deity, while another just resumes their vandalism as if nothing happened. The rest continued to stare dumbly while the one with the bungee cord wrapped around its torso picks up another rock (the same one who is most likely responsible for breaking my second overseer) and starts pointing at one of my overseers while looking to his friend.

“If I manage to hit a third one, do I get 3 packs of pod instead of one?” I hear him ask. That confirms it! I’m going to drown this bastard if I can.

“Bruh, why are you betting on a free pod man? We all get like…free pod anyway if ‘Under the same cloud’ has more pods to give. Uhm…do you have more pods to give ‘Under the same cloud?” A new one asks before turning towards the same crackhead who is currently worshipping me for some reason.

They don’t respond. Another one next to them was doing the same thing. Until I realized that they were actually trying to sunbathe under the ‘SHADOW’ of my superstructure. Even going so far as to rub some sun lotion all over their body or something similar. For fuck’s sake.

What the hell is going on?

This is completely getting out of control before it even started. I just want these crackheads GONE, damn it. My attention then switched to the ones who are currently vandalizing my leg, and noting their frantic movements. I just had to see what horrid abominations or slurs they plastered all over my walls. Sending one of my overseers to a much better position -more precisely behind a Bollard to hopefully shield it from that rock-throwing maniac's ire- I finally get a perfect image of what these Na'vi wannabes (God, I can’t believe I made that reference) were spraying.

Well, for starters, it’s your typical graffiti work of fancy lettering calling out “The man”, swear words, and derogatory references, which completely go over my head. But one graffiti in particular catches my eye. It was clearly meant to be something else, but got quickly sprayed over by a caricature version of my big ass head. Looking angry, with over-exaggerated eyes and a big screaming mouth filled with crooked teeth and a flailing tongue.

For starters, I don’t have a mouth, and two, FUCK YOU! You trespass on MY PROPERTY, completely ignore my demands to fucking leave, and then you insult me by spraying an overexaggerated picture of me screaming “fuck you”? No, he seriously just added the phrase “fuck you” coming out of my big ass mouth.

This asshole is clearly taking the piss, and it pisses me off even more.

“OH, THAT’S REALLY FUCKING FUNNY YOU DIPSHIT! WELL FUCK YOU TOO!” I yell while glaring down at the guy responsible for this.

The guy actually reacts to my callout and responds. “Man, you need to chill. You're like…exuding a lot of negative karma there, man. You gotta calm down. You shouldn’t see this piece as a form of mockery but as a reflection, to witness how distressing this negative karma of yours makes you look. You need to get rid of that negative karma and elevate it to something positive, then you can be beautiful, like me and my friend, and become one with the great cycle that governs our lives. Not reject it like how most people do. Become one with the universe.” He preaches, completely losing me halfway through before striking a meditative pose after… giving…himself…a…quick spray.

Am I the high one now? It feels like I am getting high from just listening to these dimwits. No wonder Sig’s Supervisor called them a band of good-for-nothing hooligans. Cause that’s what they fucking are. Doing weed while babbling complete nonsense while under the influence.

Also, the guy with the bungee cord has resumed his quest to climb up my leg while being buck ass naked. Hope the guy fucking loses his grip and breaks a few bones. The perfect karma for breaking two of my overseers.

Thanks to all this nonsense steadily chipping away at my psyche, my anger has somewhat fizzled out and has been replaced with an immense sense of annoyance. I can’t exactly do anything against them as long as they’re outside my can, and I clearly can’t intimidate them to leave either because their brains are already fried.

That just leaves me with one simple option.

Diplomacy.

I turn my attention back to the guy with the Jamaican accent.

“Hey, weed guy?” I call out, though two react. “No, not you.” I point at the guy with the actual weed inside his mask. “I meant you.” I gesture at the one I was actually referring to. The one who drew that damn caricature. “What will it take your little gang of meth heads to sail off?” I ask. Straight and simple.

He starts by scratching his mask for some reason before perking up. “Uh, I think right before the cycle ends because we don’t want to get swallowed up by nature's wrath, but to also get some more pod.” He replies.

“Good. So, all I have to do is just wait for all of you to leave on your own accord, yes?” I again ask.

“Yes, but I think we shall also return.” He clarifies.

“Wh-WHY!” I ask.

“Because of the karma, man. This place is free from any of the negative karma that exists in the world. Everyone wants to escape the great cycle when we should instead embrace it. The mushrooms never lie, man. They only whisper the truth if you only listen. But sadly, no one does, which really saddens me man. Whipsers...whipsers...oh sweet wishpers.” At that point all I can hear from him are uncomprehensive mumblins. Truly, the words of a wise man. 

I just shake my head. Figures, the one who talks the most is into hallucinogenic mushrooms. Brilliant. But one tiny contradiction gets me. The fact that he claims my can is negative free when just a few minutes ago he claimed that I -in fact- exude negative energy.

“Hold the fuck on. You just said that you guys came here because it's “free” of all of the negative energy…”

“Karma,” He interrupts me.

“DON’T CARE! That it's free of all of this negative…whatever, and yet just a few moments ago, you claim that I exude negative energy. So, try and explain this to me then?” I challenge him.

He just goes blank.

*Smack*

“…I’m ok!”

The guy who threw rocks at my overseers is suddenly now lying flat against the metal floors of my docks.

That at least put a smile on my face.