ENTRY: 0.1
[LIFE SUPPORT CRITICAL...]
A panel blinks in a dark, damp room. evaporated coolant condenses on the ceiling, and drops back to the ground, forming a liquid layer over the floor.
[LIFE SUPPORT OFFLINE... INITIATING EMERGENCY RELEASE…]
The panel stops blinking. A large pod erupts open, unleashing a flood of coolant. As it hits the floor, it instantly evaporates. Through the gas, a human-like form is visible. It slumps out of the pod like an emerging butterfly, its body soaked, and held to the interior of the vessel by a winding mass of wires. The little light there is bounces off of its glossy shell like an echo in a hallway. Its body is composed of multiple segments, and between each plate of rigid white plastic is a black rubber membrane. It resembles a human, but its entire exterior is synthetic. A small V.III is printed on the right side of its jaw.
[BOOTING 71%... BOOTING 91%...]
The wires connecting the body to its chrysalis begin ripping.
[DOWNLOADING MEMORY BACKUP...UNABLE TO CONNECT TO SIGNAL DELTA#82...]
The body falls to the floor, the decoupled cords attached to its skull hang over its body like long black hair, and large external components burst from its back like a biomechanical growth .
[FAILED TO COMPLETE BACKUP, BOOTING WITHOUT MEMORY]
[VULCAN HUMAN INTERFACE ONLINE. ORGAN HEATING ONLINE. BODY TEMPERATURE: 46 DEGREES FARENHEIT AND RISING]
A faint glow emits from its hollow eye sockets, and it attempts to stand up, only to fall back to the floor.
The Machine is a relic from a time long past. If not for its slumber in cryostasis, its organs would have long decayed by now. As its body temperature increases, the remaining liquid coolant on its shell evaporates away like water on a hot pan.
A child is born for the first time in decades, but it breathes no first breath, and it lets out no cries. It is incapable of most unnecessary biological processes. Although it has the mind and interior functions of a human, that is all that connects it to its former humanity. For all intents and purposes, it is a machine, and like a machine, its programming delivers its first task
[EMERGENCY PROTOCOL: LOCATE SIGNAL DELTA #82]
After struggling to gain footing, the machine’s spatial calibration allows it to find its center of gravity and elegantly balance its mass upon two hydraulic legs. The newborn takes its first steps toward the exit of the room, each movement causing coolant to splash out from under its heavy feet. As it approaches the door, its instincts from the past world cause it to reach for a handle, only to find no such thing. The door is a solid plate of steel, however there is a small hole on a panel to its left. The machine thinks over its options, and reaches towards the dangling wires erupting from its head. It grabs one, and follows the cord down to its end, finding that it leads to a small cylindrical plug. It lifts the braid, and plugs it into the panel. The door immediately slams open, the loud noise causing a moment of instinctual fear in the recesses of the organism’s mind. The creature stumbles backwards, but quickly regains its footing and continues forward. Beyond the door is a long hallway consumed by darkness. With no other choice, the machine continues forward.
[LOW LIGHT LEVELS DETECTED. ACTIVATE RADIO DETECTION AND RANGING?]
<yes>
[CONFIRMED. BEGINNING RADIO DETECTION AND RANGING SEQUENCE...]
The machine’s pristine face plates burst open, exposing the internal components that lay beneath. The human brain is contained within a liquid cooled titanium shell, protruding from that are the optical cables, which lead to two small telescopic cameras. Above those are the motion, heat, and light sensors. The eight lenses give the creature an arachnid like appearance. Above the eyes are a radio transmitter and receiver. The radio antenna begins to extend, but before it is able to fully do so, The receiver lets out a loud crackle, followed by a small cloud of smoke.
[RECEIVER SHORT CIRCUIT DETECTED... PLEASE CONTACT COMPONENT PROVIDER AS SOON AS POSSIBLE]
The organism will have to rely solely on its sight to navigate this hostile space.
As it steps into the hallway, the noise of the rusted metal floor bounces off the walls, and descends into the darkness. The creature continues walking, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. Although the machine is thin, its body is quite heavy due to the antiquated parts used in its construction. The floor feels as if it's going to collapse at any second. This facility must be nearly a century old. Suddenly, the machine comes to a conclusion that brings it to a full stop. From the echo of the rusted metal interior, to the give beneath its feet, there is only one possibility. This hallway is really a suspended tunnel, hanging between two points. What lies below is a mystery, but it's something the machine would rather not have to find out. It takes one step, and another, and another. Each step is spaced out by three seconds. Those three seconds allow the machine to use the vibrations of the floor beneath its feet to determine the most stable places to step.
After a number of calculated steps, the end of the tunnel is visible. As the machine takes its last stretch of careful steps, it begins contemplating. Why is the facility silent? Why are the floors rusted? And what is this world it faintly remembers? 28 steps until it reaches the end of the hallway.
It takes one step, and another, and…
The ground beneath the machine quickly gives way. It seems that the shift in weight was too much for the floors to handle. As the machine begins to fall, its vision is overtaken by blinding light. The shift from complete darkness to overbearing light takes place too rapidly for the machine’s eyes to adjust, but when they do, it is met with a surprising view. As it falls, the entirety of the world flashes before its eyes in a split second.
A sunlit city, its concrete buildings overtaken by plant life. The sun hangs high in the sky, covering the landscape in a golden glow. The machine is plummeting from 1,250 feet, but for a second, it is at peace.
<I see... No one is left>