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Chapter 1: Waking up

I was born in the cold, being held up by chains. Though ‘born’ may not be the right word. I recollect a time before this, a time before my awakening. I was human once, I had family and friends, I had my triumphs and my mistakes. All details are faded in shadow and slowly slip away, but I know that my life did not end well, nor was it led well, I was not the kind of man I should have been, abandoning the ones I loved, and whom loved me. Though that hardly matters now though, as I find myself dangling from chains, two heavy latches attached to my back.

I attempted to reach behind me, the sound of rusted metal scrapping against itself echoed through the chamber as I griped the first latch, prying it up. A resounding snap shot out from the latch, the metal turning to dust with its age. My body swayed to one side, hitting the side of my shattered glass cell. Small shards of glass fell to the ground, the only light reflected off of them being the red light emanating from the six lenses on my face, basking the room in a deep red.

I swung for a few more seconds before reaching for the second latch attached to my back. The motion was awkward, but my arm seemed to rotate its shoulder joint into an unnatural angle and grip it. My hand squeezed the rusted metal and with a crunch it turned to dust, then I was falling. I fell but a few feet before I hit the ground, the remaining shards of glass being turned to dust under the weight of my steel frame. My reflection showing itself in them.

I was humanoid, but definitely not human. My body was a dull steel, the frame matching that of an average man, but armored plates added slight bulk onto me. My face held three red lenses over where each eye should have been, a sinister glow coming off them. I had a smile, well, at least an indent that resembled one, definitely more angular though, giving me a slightly off-putting appearance. At the top on my forehead there was a simple line of text painted on, the black paint threatening to flake off at the slightest touch. It read “C-13”, a simple name I suppose, but it was the one I was given. Why shouldn’t I accept it?

I arose from the floor, brushing off the powdered glass and rust flakes. Vents on the side of my ribcage blowing out hot air in response. Earlier I said I was born in the cold and now I say hot, though I doubt I am actually feeling these sensations, I just know, same with my touch. I run my hand across my face, the dull metal sliding across each other with ease, smooth, though the sensation was not there, I simply knew.

I stretched myself out, moving joints and activating motors that have not been moved in a millennium. The vents on my side flaring to life again, the most exertion they have ever experienced, perhaps they need to be warmed up, I will have to look into that. Peeking out of my glass cell I looked around the chamber I found myself in, despite the low light I could see quite clearly. Countless metal husks hung in similar glass cells, though they all seemed decrepit and rusted, long ago was their prime. It made me feel sad, it was strange, but an immense sense of loneliness overcame me. Seeing my ‘siblings’ in this state brought me to tears, at least imaginary ones, I could not actually cry, though that didn’t not keep me from sobbing.

I do not recall how long I stood there for, or what it was that drove me to start moving again, perhaps the loneliness of the predicament I found myself in, but that matters not. I stepped out of the cell into the open, shards of glass shattering with every step, a metallic twang following every step as I paced along the concrete floor. The choice of left or right presented itself; the pathway to the left going on into the dark, further into the chamber of lifeless husks, or the right, a steel double door leading to the unknown. I could stand this place no longer, the thought of having to witness hundreds if not thousands of more of my dead siblings making me nauseous. Hesitating for but a moment longer I turned to the right, slowly walking to the double doors.

The doors were large, very large, chrome bulkheads locking each in place. An electronic scanner to the side of the doors, long since too damaged by moisture and time to still be of service stood mocking me. I placed a hand against the doors and pushed...nothing. I took a step back, debating whether to keep attempting to open the door or walk back the way I came, back further into the dark. I threw myself at the door, a loud clang resounded off the door, dust falling from the ceiling. The door did not budge. I raced my hands along it again, finding the seam between the two, placing my fingers between them and pried. The vent on my side starting to blow out a huge wave of heated air, the machinery inside of me working at its max. I felt something shift under my fingers, I pried harder, the vents on my sides taking on a glow, red hot, the chamber being illuminated as if on fire. The door gave, the massive bolts holding it shut, long since rusted, giving way to my prying.

I looked down at my fingers, slight scratches marring the metal, my first wound in this life. My sides slowly turning back to a dull grey as the vents did their best to cool down my systems. I looked past the doors, a simple hallway, the ceiling tiles giving way to the concrete above, dust layering everything. There was a desk facing away from me, I approached it, eager to leave the now dark chamber. It was a large wooden desk, painted black with several drawers and an uncomfortable looking chair. I sat down in the chair, only to have it fall out beneath me as my weight turned it into scrap. Irritated I stood up, having to bend a metal band off of my posterior.

The desk itself was void of anything, scratch marks showed where a computer may have rested at some point, the draws only containing a singular pen with no ink. I left the pen to its fate and started back down the hallways. As I walked there were many doors leading off into different chambers and offices. Peeking into a few of them provided very little of both information and material. Despite the great wear and tear of time, the building seemed as if it was simply left abandoned, all items of worth picked up and hauled out, though that makes me wonder why I and my siblings were left behind. It made me angry.

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Who am I to judge though, I’ve only been ‘alive’ an hour, at max. That still was quite the unique thing to me, though not the profound shock. I was alive, so what? It is certainly better than being not, I would be sad to be like my siblings. I stopped walking when I reached another set of doors, these leading to an elevator, the buttons missing. I pried them open with minimal effort, the elevator room itself sitting on the ground below me, the cable cleanly cut and spooled on top of it. Whoever left here surely didn’t want anyone getting back inside.

Tilting my head upwards the shaft rose up into the dark, like an inverted abyss. Nothing was ever easy was it. I grabbed onto some of the metal frame work and started to climb, hoisting myself higher and higher, until up and down were simply black voids. I climbed 103 floors, though it was hard to count when there was only one other elevator exit, the one at the top. I struggled over to the side of the shaft with the doors and pried them apart, these more obviously rusted than the ones below.

The room before me seemed to be some sort of foyer, desks and security kiosks covering the only visible way in and out, the floor coated in fallen debris. I stepped forward and felt my foot crush something, looking down and lifting my foot I found a white dust, the remnants of a femur. I back peddled, what I had previously assumed to be debris were corpses, human corpses, long since turned to dust and bone. I squatted down next to the body I had trampled and looked at its face. A simple bleached skull looked back; a forlorn expression eternally engraved upon it. Searching the floor, I found bullet casings and weaponry, a fight had taken place here. The remaining clothing on the bodies showed one to be security of some kind and the other wearing all black.

What could they have been fighting for? The piles of husks here as well as below just reinforced the immense loneliness I had been feeling, an anxiety now building in my chest. I sat down next to the original skeleton I had found, placing my hand upon its forehead and spoke for the first time.

“I’m sorry.” My voice mechanical and a bit hollower than I liked.

I don’t know why I chose to apologize, I didn’t cause this, at least not that I recall. Perhaps I meant to say I was sorry that I was there, alive, and this person was not. I am not sorry to be alive though so that doesn’t make sense either. I think it is just what should be said, especially after stepping on its leg.

I sat there for a while before standing back up. So far, this life has not shown me the most beautiful things. I scanned the floor, spotting the numerous firearms and ammunition. Perhaps this could happen to me, I thought, perhaps I don’t want it to.

For the next thirty minutes or so I gathered up any remaining weaponry I could, apologizing to everyone I took something from. By the end of it and after sorting out what I could carry and what was still functional I had a very small yield. I had found some sort of semi-automatic pistol and a several dozen rounds of ammo for it, three strange spheres with pins that I could only assume were grenades, and a large combat knife, the metal it was made of repelling the rust. Everything else was rusted far too much or I simply didn’t know what it was. Some people holding strange looking weapons with no visible trigger. How do you shoot without a trigger?

The last things I took were a duffle bag that one of the people wearing all black had and a pair of leather boots that threatened to turn to dust with every step. I took the bag to store my supplies in, but the boots were more for a problem I had discovered during my trek through the underground and the climb up the elevator shaft. I'm loud, more specifically, my steps are loud, metal hitting the ground over and over again is not very quiet, it is also very annoying. The boots muffled the sound of my steps somewhat, so I figured they were worth trying on. The body I took them from ended up getting an extra-long apology.

Finishing up my prep I glanced around one final time, the elevator shaft standing at the edge of my vision, an infinite black that beckoned me into it. I turned away and paced up to the only remaining door in the room, eager to leave I pushed it open. With minimal resistance it swung open, revealing a secluded canyon and a stary sky.

The sky shone with hundreds of stars, the constellations popping out in vivid detail. With no moon in sight, it made the viewing that much better. This was the first beautiful thing I had seen since being born, and it was awesome. Not awesome as in great, but as in awe inspiring, because that’s what I was, in awe. I gazed at the stars for a long time, long enough to notice the flaws of the night sky, little satellites racing each other across the planet. I envied them, I wished to see the world from above, to race through the stars and witness the cosmos. I gazed too long though, the sun peaking its head over the horizon, and thus, it was day.

With the stars fading away I finally looked around the place I found myself in. The canyon was void of practically anything, with sheer cliffs granting respite. The only thing of note was the helicopter pad resting at the bottom of the canyon, the helicopter itself long torn apart by the whims of nature.

I walked to the helicopter, the metal creaking in the wind. It seemed ancient, like some sort of mythical beast, the guns and missiles attached to it speaking of its once great fury. This is the definition of a tragedy. The death of a giant through neglect, it made me sad. Many things seem to be making me sad. I do not appreciate it.

With a bow of respect, I turn away from the metal behemoth and towards the canyon walls, the final challenge to escape my cradle. I approached the canyons cliffs, shear being an understatement as they seemed to be artificially cut smooth.

Bracing myself I made my hand into a point and drove it into the rock, piercing a few inches, granting me a handhold. I pulled myself up and used my other hand to pierce another handhold. Again and again, I slammed my hands into the rocky face, climbing higher and higher until I found the edge.

Using my momentum, I threw myself upwards and onto the top of the cliff. The vents on my side whirring and blasting heat from them, rapidly cooling my internals. My hands marred with more scratches and small dents. I pulled myself to my feet and stood atop the cliff face, gazing away from the canyon and out onto the now visible horizon.

An endless expanse of desert met my gaze, the wind whipping itself against me, small grains of sand finding lodge in my mechanics before being expelled by some maintenance protocol. The desert slowly heating up with the introduction of the sun, the same sun reflecting off my chassis. The same sun now illuminating a streak of black smoke off in the distance.

I dropped off the edge of the cliff into the sands below, a plum of sand throwing itself up around me before settling. I stood and walked towards the smoke. Perhaps there lies a friend.

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