As I turn onto the street I am 3 miles from the barrier. Well that's what my satnav says anyway, I don't trust it (it gives attitude) but it's all I can rely on.
A Platinum is walking the other direction, towards me, with a stern look on his face. Damn Platinums. They just can't keep their mouths shut, that's their problem; one day they're complaining about robots not paying taxes, next their whining about everyone moving out of their homes due to 'inefficient funding'. That's how this war started, once an Platinum figure out something sounds appealing to the audience they will flaunt it to the extreme. They just couldn't get into their clanging, metal minds that murdering the chief Pixie will NOT bring in more views. Damn Capitalists.
He is closer now and I, a Iron, must look like a right metallum in my oversized robe. But he passes me by with one quick glare of disgust. Nothing new. We were always frowned upon by Platinums, and Golds for that matter. The reason was never made clear and made no damn sense, but we live with it.
YOU ARE READING
The Source
FantasyIn a world where magic and technology are at war. You are stuck in the middle. Since your are the first robot with a magic power Source.
