Roaming through the sandy amber colored dunes of once populated city, a hooded robotic figure struggles to fight against the wind. It's ragged cloak violently thrashing around like a flag. The figure continues to move as it grunts in a mettalic tone. It raises its hands to shield its eyes from the blasts of grit. It carefully scans the top layer of the next dune, an outline of what appears to be a crude entrance is highlighted and it moves forward. Every step proves fatal as each grain of sand collecting in its precious joints appear to wear away at all the lubrication. Each bend from its fingers comes with a slight crunch and rough grind, damaging its already rusted exterior.
As the figure approaches the designated area, it slumps down and begins digging towards the entrance. As it digs promptly, its hood comes off to reveal a sleek black rhomboid point for a faceplate, one cybernetic eye is missing while the either glows with a low orange hue. The rear casing where the back of the skull would be, reveal thick cables and other circuitry inside its cranium. In the center of what one would consider an impressive piece of machinery is a rectangular microchip with gold plating and LXV8717 engraved in the middle. It quickly pulls the hood over its exposed head and continues digging.
After an hour of scraping away at the pool of sand with essentially two miniature rakes, it is able to crawl through the opening. With much effort having to battle against a wall of sand still pouring through, it succeeds in climbing through and falls a few feet onto a flat surface. As it attempts to get up to reposition, it falls again another foot off the ground. It activates low light vision. In front of it, a table with a thick layer of sand. As it looks around, it notices the entrance it came from is a window as there are two other arch shaped carvings adjacent to it. After getting back up on its feet, it moves towards a slightly crumbled door way. Just as it passes, its circuitry seizes up as small jolts of electricity pop throughout the body and it stands there frozen in its own thoughts until finally shutting down.
A tall young man stands in the middle of a crowd with his eyes shut in fear and anticipation. He opens them, he is at a Grand Ball. He looks up to find the celing very high, decorated with holographic chandeliers. Each one has the same design, 3 layers of beautiful crystals shining a beautiful ambient light gold color. He looks down at his hands, he can move them and feel them! He stretches and contorts his body. He can feel his body. Onlookers stare at him, wondering what has gotten into him. A gorgeous woman approaches him, her body draped in a silk dress that complimented her physique. Her smile is sharp followed by her gaze, her hazel eyes observing every motion that he is doing. Her honey blonde hair gracefully embraces her beautiful face, a face that one believes tobe chiseled by Angels.
"Are you ok? You look a tad nervous." She grabs his hands and rubs her thumbs on each palm, as if she was about to read his fortune.
He is quite nervous, where is he and why. He recognizes this beautiful woman. He recognizes the setting, the ambience, the feelings around him. As he tries to respond, his voice takes on a metallic tone. No words come out. He attempts to speak again but only the groan of robotic noise emits from his throat. He panics but the guests and the woman do not. They all appear to have no emotion to his speech. Something isn't right. He attempts to speak once more but blacks out.
The robotic figures internal components whir to life. Its eye glows a brighter hue of orange. It comes to and mimics a cough, gasping for air. It realizes that he is not who he is anymore. He rubs his eyes and is reminded with the scraping of metal that he is not in his body. He activates low light vision and remembers his objective. He moves forward towards what appears to be a hallway. Looking around he identifies old world style paintings with the canvas removed or faces ripped off. There are also LED frames scattered around but with no power. He gets to another doorway and scans the surroundings. It looks to be an auditorium, the ceiling is caved in but remains intact from the steel frame. This location is very familiar but a lot has changed. He makes his way down the staircase. Small glitches in his display form images of life in a world that once was. Crowds of spectators await the next act on stage. He places a hand on one of the old velvet seats and it falls apart. He proceeds to scan the area.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
He makes his way to the stage. Not a lot has been left, everything has been scavenged and dismantled. He heads backstage but the room is a mess. No way in as chunks of wall and other debris litter the area. There has to be a way around or out of this area. He remembers that this place is connected to a more open space outside towards the courtyard. He leaves and makes his way around to the main entrance. Sand and debris decorate the floor. All the doors are blocked from the outside, he attempts to break the bottom of the glass door. He pulls his arm back and forms a fist.With a clean jab forward he shatters the glass and is able to crawl through the opening. Upon further inspection there are large pillars that have been knocked down and have conviently blocked the entrance doors. As he recollects himself, he notices an old display that has a map of the area. It is a large frame with a neat blueprint of the area that guests can read. It is not too technical, but enough to find exits and see where certain corridors lead. He scans the blueprint. A maitenance room is nearby, it could lead to a power generator and hopefully to his objective. He travels along the lobby and finds a hidden entrance, he pries the door open. This area has not been disturbed. Documents are laid out on the table of the next renovations. Employee schedules have been marked, but all the computer screens are dead. He rummages around the desks. Old energy bars, crumble in his grasp. Nothing useful in this room. He continues his journey through the secret maitenance tunnels.
Hours have passed. He continues to wander the corridors of the maitenance tunnels. The majority of the rooms that lead to other facilities have been looted or destroyed. The more smaller hidden rooms have nothing useful. He scavenged a Security Room but only recovered a few shotgun shells. He wanders what would warrant this type of ammo. Surely, these are just civilians? Civilized at least? As he gets closer to what he considers the heart of the operation, he is greeted by a very particular entrance. The doors are wide and open diagonally with the right verification. The logo on the center of the door is that of a cluster of hexagons. No name to be read, only a symbol. He scans the entrance.
His heads up display highlights the right side of the doorway, a hidden panel to scan keycards. Instinctively he pulls the cloth from his right forearm to reveal a worn out barcode. The same logo is engraved on the inside of his wrist. His robotic mind is trying to add up all the data but something in his programming prevents him from learning or understanding what he is, what he is trying to achieve, and where he is. The door lights up in a welcoming way and procceds to scan his barcode. The light changes from a blissful light blue color to an accepting green and the door, although old, quickly opens with a friendly chime.
Welcome back. Please proceed.
An automated voice welcomes him. The area is lit up with what appears to be a back up generator as not all the lights are activated. He finds himself inside a reception area, the floor is clean with the logo of the facility layered on. He approaches the desk. Empty seats and a tidy work space greet him. The doors behind him slide shut and the automated voice returns.
All personnel please return to your designated work station and consult your superior for further instructions.
Something about that message seemed as if they were under an emergency. He makes his away around the desk to find anything useful. Still nothing. Writing implements, documents, and personal trinkets. He moves away from the desk and proceeds through the double glass doors. They slide smoothly away and reveal a clean corridor with a large view of a facility to the right. Peering through the clean glass, he sees multiple levels of rooms. All dimly lit, office and research rooms. He feels very familiar.
"Simril Biotech Industries." He mutters in his hollow tone. He grumbles. Memories begin to assault his network. Sparking every circuit in his body. He remembers faintly entering an escape pod, it malfunctions. The glass fogs up. He closes his eyes. He remembers a large citadel. Home. From a birds eye view he scans the citadel to reveal a hidden facility that stretches across the land underneath the city. Each key point around the perimeter revealed a folded SAM turret. Each time he remembers the layout, they begin to reveal the nature of this particular facility. It is a research and development facility that was invested by an extremely wealthy family. They wanted to protect their people and preserve their future. But something happened. At that point in time his processing stalls. He cannot "dream" any further.
He snaps out of his overthinking mind and proceeds down the corridor. He is determined to figure out why he is here and finish his objective. As he continues his journey, cameras adjust to his position. Carefully screening him. It analyzes his components and detects no weapons. But his microchip in his skull is highlighted in a bright gold color underneath the dark exterior. The camera zooms in further to conclude that it is a special piece of hardware. Whoever that thing is. It belongs here.
With his mind set, he exhales a vibrated growl through his busted vocal synthesizer.
"Looks like Im home."