Boredom Ensues

The Broken Machine.

This was inspired by a song that has helped me through these trying times as I now pray that my future won't be affected for the worst due to the Covid-19 virus... Little Rover, Song for Opportunity -The Stupendium. Carry on, everyone, we'll win our races and arrive at our homes.

A distant plane, a distant time, a machine is left abandoned after a great war. Their eyes flicker, as its wires hang out loosely from its metal shell. It looks up to the stars, to the distant worlds and galaxies that glitter the deep dark heavens of space. It appeared lifeless, its battery finally fading. Its eyes flickered less and less, as its silver head rested against the orange rocks of the battlefield.

Yet it moved.

Its battery was in tatters, its body dented and damaged. However, the machine still had its objective, it still had its directive to follow, and it wasn't to give up yet.

They got up from the ground, and looked up to the sky, scanning nearby sectors and planets, looking for one place in particular. This place was unlike the barren plains that it currently stood in alone, surrounded by its dead brothers. It knew it was slowly dying, feeling the amps and volts in his wires and circuits move slower and slower with every passing second, and so it whirred with great determination and desperation to find this lone world filled with flesh and bone.

It laid its eyes on one planet, the place of water and earth. The planet they were looking for after years of fighting on a war-ridden planet with rocks and mountains as orange as the sun. It saw the planet that had the creators residing on. They saw no clouds of smoke from explosions, no blood being spilled into the water or grass. They only saw the cooperation that had now taken place on this green and blue dot. 

They saw the small continent they needed to reach, they saw the place he resided in. Though they were broken and bleeding electrical energy into the atmosphere, they took a risk. They opened a jammed plate within their arm, and fumbled with the pad that rested behind it. They typed the coordinates they saw in their retina, and as they felt their power drain more and more, they pressed the "Jump" button.

They saw the world around them warp, they felt a surge of power get exerted from them, most escaping through to the void they travelled through as they shortened the distance between them and the planet they needed to arrive to. They finally escaped this array of blurred colours and patterns, and arrived on the continent they targeted. One eye flickered, and faded to darkness, their vision now limited. They were nearing their final moments...

They needed to be fast. They had to check.

Their objectives flashed in their working, cracked eye: "CHECK IF CREA--- HE IS SAFE. CONFIRM HIS PRESENT STATUS. CHECK IF YOU WERE SUCCESSFUL." They needn't be told twice. Though their body was slowly shutting down, though their wires hung loose and tattered, they limped forward through the dark streets of Earth.

They neared a small home, limping forward toward the electric door. They didn't even know if this would work, they had no idea if he would've kept their identity in the data-banks of the home. They looked up at the house, seeing the kindness it emitted in presence, and placed its rusted hand against a green panel.

Beep! Welcome, Otto Pip Ryun. The panel spoke, as the door unlocked and allowed them inside the house. It was still dark, still late, Otto knew that. However, Otto only needed to check. They just needed the confirmation that he was safe.

They searched through the house, seeing the photos that were framed on the wall. They saw his life through these frozen frames of time. They saw the time before and after the war waged on. They saw how he had grown, how he learnt, and how he still longed for the day of Otto's return...

If they could, they would cry. The mere sight of these images made them think of emotions they never really understood. It was all so much, and so confusing for a broken machine like themselves. They didn't have much time left. They ventured upstairs to the bedroom he resided in.

They opened the door quietly, scanning the area and checking the shadows. They confirmed the place was clear, and that no one had invaded the home. They walked to the bed, sitting down into a chair beside it and doing a final check-up on the man that rested in the bed.

Heart rate: Normal.
Brain waves: Normal.
Sleep: Normal, deep.
Thought processing: Kind, Caring... Normal.

Their objective was complete. He was safe.

They rested their metal body in the chair, thinking back to when it all began.

They remember the first day of creation, new and unknown to the world. They didn't know what to process first, but they knew that he was their creator. "Hello there, Otto" He said calmly, "Welcome to life." Otto couldn't speak at first, but his creator was kind, patient, ready to help them in whatever way they could.

They remember their times learning about combat, about protection, about reading emotions and scanning environments. They remember how it all seemed fascinating at first for a machine that could not experience such emotions like joy and sadness. It was a new world every day, and every day they learnt more and more about their limitless power.

They remember the day the men and women in suits came. They remember being taken, they remember how they protected him from the men in suits. They remember how they had to go, defend him by fighting on a distant world, for a battle against the world. They remembered swearing and setting a new objective when they finally entered that rocket: After all this is done, check on Creator. No, check on him. See if he is fine, and confirm his status.

They remember arriving, formation lined and voices cried. They remember fighting the enemy, and how they saw so many break into pieces. They remember seeing thousands of his brothers die on the ground, their oily blood oozing from their bodies... They remember promising to win.

They remember fighting the boss. They remember how they were swung and shot. They remember how they were stabbed and slashed, battered and bruised. They remember every punch and jab. They remember getting up time after time, prepared to complete their objective: Protect him. They remember how their processors went dark, after seeing the final enemy collapse to the ground.

They remember the time they spent resting in that pile of rubble and bodies. They remember how the years passed as he grew old. They remember how they tried to fight the hibernation sequence, how they tried to fight his automatic programming for emergency power as his battery leaked and drained.

They remember how they dreamt. They remember dreaming about him, and how he was living his life, even if it was without them. They remember having the hope that he was safe, having the faith that he was okay. They remember feeling his security from the distant home planet.

They remember their journey here...

They remember arriving to this home one final time...

They remember finally seeing him safe...

They feel their body rest.

They feel themselves finally cease.

They feel themselves finally rest for eternity...