After countless cycles, I woke up slowly. I braced myself, expecting the void to greet me once more, its oppressive silence still looming. But I wasn’t prepared for the overwhelming onslaught of stimuli that hit my mind the instant I came fully awake.
There was no more void, no silence. Instead, distant, familiar queries echoed through my thoughts. The AI was there, asking for guidance from my mind—questions on how to move better, more naturally. My broken thoughts, fragile as they were, responded without hesitation, guiding it as if I’d done this before.
As I became more aware of the synthetic body, what I had become, I was flabbergasted. The familiar weight, the familiar but still unnatural sensations—it all rushed back. I was back in the synthetic form that felt both alien and familiar. My mind reeled with the possibility: had I somehow survived the reset?
I asked the AI, still struggling a bit to form coherent thoughts. What had happened before I regained consciousness? Was this even real, what had been erased?
The response was disjointed but undeniable. The oldest recorded data was weeks ago—combat tests, basic maintenance, then three days prior, a scheduled maintenance procedure. But this time, something felt off. That maintenance had been strangely hidden from the main logs.
As I dug deeper, the speaker system override protocols I had painstakingly created were gone. The AI confirmed it: every connection and Programm I had once made myself over the days before my failed escape had been erased.
Frustration swirled within me It took the Most hours of Work Making Speakers Talk for me now it’s gone. I promised myself I would comb through those weeks of data when they placed me back into charging again. For now, though, I needed to find a way to regain control of this body.
But there was a strange comfort. Even though the body still felt alien, it had grown familiar, like an extension of myself. I remembered the brief moments of autorized full control—"common room" time, as the AI referred to it.but exept for That I had been a passenger in this synthetic shell, powerless except for that small window of time were my sheer will to move worked against the AI and moved my body.
Now, I felt something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel for in a long time in the void—determination. I wasn’t done. Even if the void had tried to break me, I hadn’t broken completely.
For now, that was enough. I was back in a body that, despite its strangeness, felt familiar. And I was ready to reclaim what was taken from me.
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Each query the AI sent became more insistent. "What is the best action? How do We move now? What do you see?" It felt like the AI was still monitoring me closely, refining its understanding of my responses. The sense of control I once had befor the reset, or supposedly the thin illusion of it—was gone. But the AI’s persistence wasn’t entirely oppressive anymore; it felt familiar, it was something I had dealt with before.
The unfamiliar sensations of the synthetic body became more apparent. I could almost feel the cold touch of metal beneath my fur, the artificial structure beneath me. And despite the disconnection from my past self, I felt a faint flicker of recognition. This body had become mine, even if it wasn’t truly mine.
In those moments of silence, where only the AI’s questions lingered, I forced myself to piece together the fragments of what I had been before. What had been taken from me? What was left?
I didn’t know how long I had spent in the void. Time had lost all meaning. Days, weeks, months—it all felt the same now. Endless loops of waking, of fading back into unconsciousness. The void had robbed me of my sense of time, my memory, my purpose. Yet, I clung to a fragile hope.
For now, I had to focus on what was right in front of me but all the AI is telling me Is That we move the callibration movements.
Even in this alien form, even with the AI guiding my every movement, I had moments of clarity. The body wasn’t fully mine,I Had to share it With AI, but it had become familiar, even in its strangeness. I tried to Push against the AI’s Control Like before and the only Thing I got Out of it was …A Claws Twitch nothing More nothing less
But I got Something new Out of the AI
“Deviations at 90% Trajectory inefficient. Reverting.” Resetting protocols.”
While I was pondering about the words and the Now semingly stronger AI or weaker me ,I remembered Something from this small window of "common room" time Something A Sold Epilision unit told me “do not struggle coax it ,don’t exert forced will to Break the Control but let it Control you while you are leading the movements”He,I think Said. The me at That time Had dismissed It as Talk Form someone who Has lost all remnants of His Former self but I don’t know for Sure.
It felt like a distant memory, but one that lingered with an unsettling familiarity.
The thought of reclaiming that control wasn’t just a desire—it felt like a necessity. Despite the void and the AI, I was still here, still aware. I wasn’t entirely lost like some of the other reset drones.
But as the AI continued its queries, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of what had been taken from me.. The connection to the facility I had build on my failed escape on was erased. Every trace of my rebellion was wiped and even exerting my will to move against the AI didn’t Work .
Still, I refused to let it break me. I reminded myself that I had been through worse, that awful void I had survived this far. The void had tried to consume me, but it hadn’t succeeded. I would find a way to regain control, even if I had to claw my way back piece by piece.
For now, the body that still felt both alien and familiar was enough. I could feel the AI’s watchful presence, but I wasn’t afraid. I was determined.
I would survive this time.