THE TOWER OF ATLAS

A - T-001-056-00:08
The terminal rests solemn on a green hill. Vines naturally avoid it; it need not repel them. This is by no mechanism of the terminal itself, nor of any kind of biological accident, but for the simple reason that the machine scourge has won over its organic adversary in this area. The unimaginably large and sometimes animated wall that towers over the terminal has created a natural shelter from the flora, and by extension most of the fauna. What cannot eat here will not live here.
Alone the terminal sits, blinking passively as it awaits a homing signal from Kawasaki Heavy Industries to open its lock. No mortal being that ever was could comprehend the meaning or cause for the terminals. It was only the minds that were employed at Kawasaki Heavy Industries that could begin to take advantage of their presence as small recorders, passive, stealthy little instruments which kept watch over their designated area and could offer their wisdom to androids passing by.
This terminal carries news of a great and joyous birth prophesied long before its coming, that which would surely be called an abomination by a human being in the flesh. Being that human beings in the flesh no longer exist, though, no resistance can be mustered against the unshakable ball and chain. The woman who long awaited this birth, though metal, had been bathed in the blood and tears of humanity as long as she could remember. The creature was irreversibly tainted by the cruel, ignorant dealings of humanity, her circuits ever speaking to her in song since her great crossing-over.
A stalwart pair of red eyes has set its sights on the metallic woman, hands which were borne of the same alloy and yet which held a weighty, sharp spear by which many injustices had been committed, regretted, and long forgotten, and though her reign was short lived, her memory would remain hidden, festering deep inside the hearts of those others who remained.