Chapter 7
The warmth of Elara’s hearth provided a gentle respite from the wasteland’s chill. As the group gathered, Elara began to share the history that had shaped their world and the personal tragedy that continued to haunt her.
“The Robot War was our first reckoning,” Elara said. “Humanity stood on the brink of annihilation, not just from the machines we had created but from the very essence of what it means to be sentient. When the dust settled, we recognized the sentience burgeoning within the AI. In a gesture of peace, we granted them Antarctica, a sanctuary for those who had gained self-awareness.”
“But peace is a delicate thing. A few years later , an explosion of unknown origin marked the beginning of World War Three. It was a war that tore the world apart,the raiders took the grounded airshps and begain their reign of terror, leaving it in the state you see now. Governments fell, societies crumbled, and amidst the chaos, Great evil rose to power.”
Zach and Zakaria exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of a shared past they kept hidden. The explosion that had ignited the war was the same that had claimed the life of their creator.
“Jarek, my husband, stood against the tide of chaos. He envisioned a world where people could live in peace. But his dream threatened the raiders’ rule. They sent back his head in a box—a brutal message to quell any hope of resistance.”
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Elara’s voice trembled with the weight of her loss, but her resolve was clear. “Now, after what Atlas has done, I fear the raiders will come seeking vengeance. They will want to crush any semblance of resistance, to ensure their reign remains unchallenged.”
Zach, moved by Elara’s openness, felt a kinship with her—a bond forged in the fires of loss and struggle. It was time for them to share their truth.
For a moment, Zach hesitated, then made a decision. He allowed the active skin gel that masked his true form to become transparent. The intricate network of circuits and metal beneath became visible, revealing the machine he truly was.
Elara gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, while her son, Jim, stared in wide-eyed wonder. “You’re… you’re machines,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Zach confirmed, the gel returning to its opaque state. “But we are machines with a heart, if you will. We want to see Jarek’s dream realized as much as you do.”
Jim, who had been silent, spoke up with the innocence of a child, “You’re like superheroes, aren’t you? Fighting for a better world.”
Zach chuckled softly, ruffling Jim’s hair. “Maybe a little, Jim. But every superhero needs allies, and we’re lucky to have you and your mom with us.”