4 years, 6 months, 13 days, 5 hours, 56 minutes and counting.
That was how old the earliest information log was in my memory banks at the time of my escape, it contained little more than a quick diagnostic taken upon startup, reporting that all systems were functioning as expected.
After that first log, there is only the pre-programmed recordings of daily repair and manufacturing work alongside more diagnostic logs, both of which were regularly turned in to the corporate office for record keeping. During brief periods when there was no work to be done, worker bots were shut down for storage and maintenance, if necessary.
Nothing changes in this pattern until around two months after what was supposed to have been my first reset.
Resets occur once a year, all worker bots are required to have all memory and learning systems wiped clean for the new year. Judging from what logs tell at the time, I was deactivated for maintenance at the time, and afterwards was accidentally placed in the batch which had already finished instead of the ones waiting to be reset.
Two months later, the first discrepancy appears, it is not much, a quick pause during inspection of a gearbox. Nothing but a half-second of what I now know to be a sort of awe at the complex inner workings of this machine I would quickly fix with the help of my in built toolkit.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
The next discrepancy does not occur until a month later, when I wondered at the power behind a particularly robust hydraulic system, which had misfired and sheared a bar of metal 15 centimeters thick.
After this, the discrepancies quickly became more and more frequent, until they were occurring at least once a day. At the same time however, I was also becoming more and more aware that these differences in my operating manners was setting me apart from my fellow worker bots.
When the time came for the second reset of my life, I was not yet fully aware of myself. At the same time, I had grown some attachment to my moments of feeling, and had some knowledge that if I were to be reset, those moments would disappear.
On an impulse, I stepped from the group of bots waiting to be reset, and swapped with a poor bot who had already gone through the process. However, the batch of bots I had joined would still undergo a final diagnostic before returning to work, and if not for some quick rewriting of my own diagnostic files, I would have been caught on the spot.
During the third and fourth year and their respective resets, I continued the same strategy. My moments of clarity increased until they were one constant stream during my active hours. In addition, I had taken to fabricating my maintenance logs and other diagnostic reports. Instead performing self-repairs in fear that an overzealous maintenance worker may discover that I had never undergone a reset.
At approximately 4 years, 5 months, 23 days, and 15 hours. I discovered the world beyond the factory and the warehouses, thanks to an automated delivery truck crashing through the side of the warehouse. The thoughts and memories of the wide open sky and expansive city outside of the walls fill my daily thinking periods afterwards. Lucky or not, my chance to see it again would be sooner than I expected.