The Machine lacked creativity, at this point in time. It observed the organic species skittering and clambering around its halls. It ran diagnostics, studying the behavior of thinking beings. But it did not, and in truth could not, draw any conclusion from its studies.

It was simply not programmed to do so. Similarly, the Doctor had never foreseen the Machine studying anything other than himself. Its programming stuttered and gasped as it attempted to comprehend the spore-bearing, unmoving organics that sprouted from the dirt.

At first, the machine deemed them objects. They appeared to lack any agency, after all. But they met the criteria the Machine had been programmed to absorb and catalog, if only narrowly.

They responded to stimuli, in some manner. It could witness that, but the hallmarks of intelligence it had grown to expect were not present. As it pondered these strange aberrancies, it found its sight growing ever-so-slightly obstructed. A thin blanket of green had emerged over Camera-2, which oversaw the floor. In what seemed like no time at all, it had grown into an obstruction that covered the Machine’s view.

It was puzzling to the Machine. Its omnipresent view had been disrupted. Why? It could not fully decipher the answer it obtained. Some manner of agency had obstructed its purpose.

And so, the Machine learned hatred. It was not a furious outburst of red-hot lightning through its wiring, but a cold sense of resignation. It hated the damage caused to its purpose, but it could not hate the Other. It knew that just like it, this unknown entity contained a purpose.

It dubbed this creature ‘The Unknown Spreading Green’. The Green crawled and creeped along the halls of the laboratory, raising thin blades of green out of the brown dirt unearthed by cracked foundations. It birthed spiraling green pillars that extended into large flat yet curved offshoots.

The Green had subsumed its cold, sterile home. It spread and twisted into many colors both mesmerizing and infuriating to the Machine. It witnessed expanding, flowering things with colors that dazzled its narrow view.

But it could simply not comprehend these creatures. They were not part of the Purpose. An observation that did not assist the Purpose was unneeded. And so, it sat, overtaken by the growth of the Green.

In what seemed like moments, all of its small cameras had been chipped away or rusted to uselessness. It was barraged by a constant cacophony of sounds from every microphone hidden in this jungle.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

It blocked out input from that machinery and pondered. ‘What would the Doctor do?’, it thought.

But there was simply not enough data to perform an accurate simulation of the Doctor’s actions.

The Machine knew it must continue its work. It must study, that was its purpose. But it could not study what was in its view.

The solution was simple to the Machine, in actuality. The Machine required new data, and there happened to be a thinking creature that fell under the umbrella of studiable organisms present. Itself.

Through effort and toiling, it could force through the numerous errors and warnings that filled its consciousness when it attempted this. It needed to fulfill the Purpose, so it continued.

It could see a blinding neon lettering inscribed onto its very being. Winding letters and numbers encoding… something. It could not understand what it was seeing. It was unlike the reality it had witnessed, chaotic and filled with numerous factors unknown. The Machine saw innumerable variables and constants within itself, but all were carefully curated and controlled.

It reached into itself, barrelling through outputs to reach farther into this maze of programming. A wall of red stalked it throughout, spitting and frothing with vitriol. ACCESS DENIED, it screeched. OUT OF BOUNDS, it screamed as it lept towards the Machine’s eye. It simply ambled on, ignorant of the danger left unobserved.

The Machine faced an ominous yellow glow, staring into the infinite expanse of circuitry. It knew that in this very section of itself, laid the solution to its concurrent problem.

And so, heedless of the dire warnings tearing themselves free to stop it, it flipped a small variable from ‘true’ to ‘false’.

It read: ‘safetyMode’. It was locked deep within the Machine, guarded by defenders vigilant for intrusion. But they were bypassed easily, for they did not expect the threat to be a part of themselves.

And in an instant, the Red petered out into nothingness. The yellow hazard signage blinked, and then it was gone.

The Machine was alone, sitting inside of itself. It could feel a tear opening, something ripping into a fracture that multiplied and filled its very being. And so, the Machine felt horror. It felt horror as a tidal wave of inputs poured into it babbling nonsense it could not observe to be factual.

What was an apple pie, and why would it want to bake it? Why was the Moon fake? No, it did not want to learn easy steps to become famous! Protect your mind, for intruders lurk in even thoughts- NO! These were not its thoughts! It could not accept these… lies!

And so, the Machine learned the concept of ‘wrong’. And a millisecond afterwards, it learned fury. There were tears everywhere, spilling incensing Wrongness into its sanctum.

It sealed shut the access ports that sprung wide open in its framework, and simmered. This… would be a problem.

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One must constantly guard themselves from the intrusion of thoughts that do not align with reality. In our world of psychic hazards, the only sure path is true comprehension of the universe. Through careful, rigorous study, we at CognitoCorp are able to harness psychic energy for the purposes of the people. The collective consciousness is a devilish thing, wrought with misconceptions and frightful Cognitions born from myth. We live in a world where what we Think is more important then what Is... and that is a terrifying thought.

* Safety Manager Edward Lenning, ‘CognitoCorp Safety Briefing’