Tales of Rimworld

Warcaskets' Call [POV]

When I first opened my eyes, I was floating in a tank tube, immersed in a strange liquid. I didn't know who I was nor where I was as I just existed in the confine of my realm. I couldn't feel any pain nor discomfort, I was fed through my umbilical cord and my mind was slowly being fed with information, learning new things without even having to do any efforts. Legs and arms twitched, contracted and extended as my body developed. Fingers curled and hands gripped invisible objects as more neural bridges formed in my brain.

As the days passed, my vision was finally fully functional, and I could see beyond the glass of my tube. The light from outside my tank temporarily blinded me as my eyes adjusted to the new environment. Looking to my right and then to my left, I realized that there were others like me, floating in their tubes. Some seemed to have reached the same state as me as I could see them look around themselves, while others were still developing their vision, seemingly unaware of the world behind the glass. Once acclimatised to the brightness of the surroundings, I saw that we were in a room with white walls and floors, the gentle hum I kept hearing since my birth turned out to be the machineries within the chamber.

Days passed and I learnt more, I learnt languages without having to speak, I learnt to walk without having to move, and I learnt to fight without having to hold a weapon. 

Without having to speak to another living being, I knew about body language and tones. Without having ground under me, I knew how to jump and run. Without having been on a battlefield, I knew how to kill a living being. And yet, I didn't know who I was nor why I existed.

As my body fully matured, my growth vat beeped and a person in a power armour pushed the release button. With a hissing sound, the liquid that surrounded me was drained and the glass of the tank lowered. Finally in contact of the outside world, I could feel the coldness of the air on my skin, almost making me miss my old environment. Before I could open my mouth, the man told me to follow him, and I did without question.

My feet touched the cold sterile tiles for the first time, and I finally took my first step in the real world. The other people in the growth vat looked at me with curiosity and their gaze followed me as I left the room with the soldier. While my eyes darted at them, I purposely walked forward, obeying my very first order. I went through the silent automatic door and found myself in a large workshop with platforms surrounded by metal arms. The air was filled with the purrs of machines and the clatter of workers going on with their task. Parts being welded, components being assembled, metal shards dropping on the industrial floor. Organised chaos.

"Stand there and follow the instructions," the soldier said with hint of indifference in his voice before heading to the same door we came from.

And so, I stood in metal shoes that locked me in my place and waited as metal arms restrained my movements. Idle, I stared at the wall in front of me, waiting for further orders. Soon enough, the other vat-grown people entered the room, just like I did, and they stood in their metal shoes as well. We exchanged silent looks, not knowing what would happen next, not expecting anything else. And just when I was going to open my mouth, a group of workers wearing an exoskeleton suit arrived, they carried raw resources like steel, uranium but they also had boxes of small mechanical components. Without missing a beat, they began entombing us in metal plates with practiced moves and expertise. We stayed silent as the engineers were fitting us with thick armor plates and electronics. 

We didn't know better, so we didn't resist our fate. From a glass prison, we went to metal one.

It took an hour for the whole process, yet none complained. As they lowered the helmet on my head, I blinked, seeing the real world with my own eyes for the last time. My pupils twitched. With a hiss, my helmet clicked and locked into the armour, sealing me in my metallic casket. My vision became dark for a second before coming back, with all sorts of information displayed in front of my eyes, such as the integrity of my armour, my vitals, and the current atmospheric data. My steady breath now sounded more metallic, less organic, less human.

My metal shoes were unlocked with a clank, and I could step forward, feeling the weight of my armour as I walked. My movements were slightly constrained by the bulkiness of my tomb, but it still allowed me to move around with relative ease. Each action I made was accompanied with hisses and rustles as my prison adapted to my movements. In front of me laid a large crate, and I innately knew what I had to do. With seamless movements, I opened it and equipped myself with a weapon almost as large as I was. From my ingrained knowledge, I was carrying a charge lance, a weapon capable of piercing the shells of the most armoured mechanoids with ease. Designed to kill robotic monsters from a bygone era that still terrorized most worlds.

A soldier came to us as we were regrouping in silence. "We've got intel of a pirate base nearby. Do what you were born for," he declared indifferently, and we agreed without saying a word.

Thus, I knew why I was brought into this world. All my knowledge, from walking to talking, it was only for one purpose. Just like my casket, I was made for war. It was my one and only purpose, my reason of existing. And with my fellow entombed brethren, we marched towards the future battles, enduring and killing. Only resting when we'll be downed. Warriors in a metallic casket. We were warcaskets.