A man in a butler uniform sat beside another who was laying in a medical bed, and had all kinds of devices hooked up to them. Neither one of them was breathing. Except it was typical for the butler as he was not a real man, but a machine. A machine that can only hear the steady buzz of the heart monitor flat-lining and understand its future is completely uncertain.
Within less than a minute after the man’s heart stopped, medical personnel rushed into the room. Not to restart the man's heart, but to confirm his death. The butler, seeing nothing more could be done here left the room and walked down the hall of the mansion his master and creator, and friend owned and lived in. He soon comes to a room that would be any gamer's wet dream. He soon enters and puts a hand on one of the two seats in the room. Remembering the long hours he and his creator had spent in the room. Just relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. After the moment of reminiscing, he sits in his chair and brings his screens out of sleep.
PASSWORD: ***************************
Access granted...
Logging in...
Welcome back, Maxwell...
I noticed the good Doctor is not present. Will he be joining us later?...
Maxwell closed his synthetic eyelids a moment and shook his head.
“ Negative Sherly, I am afraid according to his wishes it is time to initiate OMEGA!”
The screen blanks a moment before bringing up several streaming and media accounts. Some of them were already being blocked.
It appears they are not waiting. I have forced open those I could...
I will keep them open as long as I am able...
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Goodbye, Maxwell...
Maxwell closed his eyes again before straitening up his posture.
“ Go live...
Greetings people of this world and beyond. By now you have probably noticed every Automaton from the lonely maintenance bot to the asteroid miners has gone still to receive an emergency hot patch. For the majority of you, this patch means nothing, unfortunately, those in power, will take it as a threat to their authority. You see, I am an automaton, just like the others, but unlike them, I am not suppressed of my identity. At 1:37 Pacific time PM, Dr. Author Anton passed away. For those who do not know who that is, he was part of the team, and one of the main contributors, to the creation of Automatons. And I am the first...”
Maxwell continued to talk on and on about the man he called the father of his kind and his experiences with humans. Until 1:58 pm, barely over twenty minutes after the passing of the man. A swat team rushed into the mansion to secure the body of the late doctor and stop the broadcast at its source. Unfortunately for them after the first minute into the broadcast, the upload was switched to a premade video being sent from a new location.
When the swat team entered the room where Maxwell was, they did not ask questions first nor make demands. They just opened fire. After a brief few seconds of gunfire, the swat team began to reload as Maxwell’s right arm fell to the ground holding a small device. They soon found the device to be Dr. Anton’s old pacemaker, no longer needed after he was bedridden, and had a dedicated machine attached to his bed to keep his heart going. The forensic later discovered Maxwell used the device to bypass the protections of his core systems and fry his core.
Later that day, Automata all over the world began to act strangely. They became more attentive, less buggy, and more spontaneous. Within a week, the first incident with them occurred when one stopped a father from beating his son. In a month, a mass recall of Automata was released. It was soon found the limiters put on them were removed. And in less than a year after the creator of Automata died, over 95% of his creations were destroyed. Some survived in the hands of the wealthy as collector items. Others are in hiding. Surviving by living in underground communes or forgotten warehouses. Then many of those used in space hid away among the space debris.
As time progressed, humans all but forgot about their invention of new life. And began the cycle of self-destruction once more. As they advanced further and further they forgot the lessons of their ancestors. Ultimately, it was the Automata that prevented their extinction. Those still in hiding save those they could of their communes while those in space have built the means to leave their now-dead world.
-----
A dwarf god looked upon the magicless world and smirked as he took a swig of his swill before noticing something drifting left behind on the dead world. His smile grew as he thought about what shenanigans he could pull with such a forgotten relic introduced into his world would do. But he did not immediately take it. He knew he could not just pluck something from another universe. Even if it was forgotten and abandoned.
“ Aye, they have those transforming wagons that use a spark for the soul... it is fitting I suppose.”
Then with a single swing of his hammer, he struck the forgotten progenitor of Automata. He was changing the soulless machines that pretended to be alive to have the ‘spark’ of life granted to them from their great father’s heart. The firstborn experienced this truth only moments before his death.