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"I am not what he says." The anguish in his tone crept up his voice, taking out the credibility of his statement. He knew this. He knew what this doubt in his resolve meant. How could he present himself to the world like this, when even he didn't believe such thing? Of course he wasn't. He wasn't like Parrot. He wasn't like Ken. Or Wato. He knew he was never human to begin with. He was just some lines of code, made up, assembled, and created just to satiate his curiosity. Oh how he hated that man.
Does my suffering mean nothing? Wifies— the name he gave himself, a variant of his— sat on a bench nearby Parrot's little improvised hut. They, or at least, Parrot, were still being hunted by Clownpierce, hence the makeshift hut in the middle of the jungle. Are these feelings just lines of code? Just his entertainment? His hands tensed a bit more, trying to erase the shaking. Trying to erase any signs of his crumbling resolve.
Can I really prove him wrong? Hunched on the bench, he stared down. "Can I even consider this?" Maybe he shouldn't dwell over this. They were still on the run. It was no time to agonize over the meaning of his artificial sentience.
But what if he didn't have more time? Can I really postpone this? How could I roam around them, pretending to be like them, living and eating and sleeping amongst them. How much longer can this continue? Is it even right for me to enjoy this, being no more than means to his entertainment? Am I really displaying their sufferings in order for me to feel connected?
Wifies let out a bitter laugh. How pathetic, allowing his friends' lives to become statistics. How selfish. But, isn't that human? To grasp at what you can to further prove to yourself that you truly are? Maybe so. Maybe Wifies knew this, but tried nonetheless. Maybe he tried for this very reason. To feel.
I do. I bleed. I eat. I drink. I feel pain. Joy. Sadness. I bleed. I feel hunger. I sweat. I bleed. I bleed. I bleed. I bleed.
"Wifies?" The avian, looking startled at finding him in this state. "Bro? What— what happened?!" Parrot was suddenly at his side, grasping his hands and taking them off his neck. When did they go up there? "Wifies what the hell?" Blood. Blood covered his fingertips and nails. "Do you— do you need health pots or a gapple—?" Ah. Ah. "Hahah.." A laugh escaped his mouth, sounding relieved yet miserable at the same time. I tried erasing it. His label. Clone #1108. The very thing that crushed his being. Being nothing more than a clone.
Parrot stared at the shaking man, equally confused and concerned. "Wifies, snap out of it. What is happ— why are you even laughing at this bro, you're hurt—"
"I bleed." Wifies interrupted. "I bleed parrot. I bleed. See? I'm hurting, too. Just like you." His gaze, unfocused, shifted towards the avian, full of expectation.
Oh. He awaited everything that could come. Disgust. Fear. Relief. Anything but that. He hated it. He hated how grateful he was of parrot. How he seemed to get what he needed right now. How he couldn't hide anything from him for long.
"Lets get you patched up." Parrot urged, his tone softer now. Wifies looked away. He could bear anything Parrot would throw at him. Anything but pity. Of course he told Parrot. He told him everything. About his origins. His escape from him. His worries. And yet he still remained by his side. A machine's side. How can someone be so stupid, yet clever at the same time?
Still— he knew, not so deep down, that this would happen. That he would get reassured he was enough. That his feelings mattered. That it wasn't pre-set, as everything else of himself was. Maybe that's what he searched for in the first place. He looked for reassurance. And maybe, just maybe, he could let go of this. Let him believe he is human. Let him sleep, drink, eat, and cry as a human. After all, how could a simple machine carry so much sorrow? Yeah. yeah. His emotions are real. And maybe, just maybe, he is too. For after all,
I bleed.