Wake of Cain // Chapter 1

It didn't seem possible that anything could have survived the mass devastation which rendered the now bleak landscape unlivable. Only a few nights ago the land was lush, fertile, filled with both pseudorganic life and humans alike; anyone who looked upon it now would undoubtedly question their own eyes considering the tragedy that had transformed it. Burnt and brittle metal flakes, mangled coils of wire, and oily faux humans littered what was once a thriving utopia as they carelessly reflected the swells of fire and smoke that surrounded them. The only audible sounds came from the sturdy shock absorbers of those who were examining the wreckage. With each mechanical step the ground shifted and moaned, as if to warn them their presence was not welcomed.

"I want reports on any and all unusual activity," he demanded, scouring the area through a cracked metaliglass visor. His sharp blue eyes were weak with fatigue and strain, most likely from having to stare through such a distraction, but he refused to remove the last protection they had as he overturned a sheet of metal to examine a dead artificioid. His eyes flickered and spun as they zoomed and focused on the makeup of his subject. The robot's skin had been burnt away to reveal a charred metal skull. Its slick glass eyes stared soullessly as he noted its model number.

He was used to it by now, the strange aura of death and destruction, and was no longer bothered by it. It was all too familiar to him. The sight, the sound, even the smell of it was something that had been engraved into his mind long ago, but today there was something else in the air, something that described an even more bitter tragedy, one that he was not accustomed to experiencing. What it could be was unfathomable, he thought, as he continued trekking through the wasted earth. He must have recorded a few hundred models by now, all of which were utterly unrecognizable except for the bits of information left behind in their drives, and he was sure he'd have to go through several hundred more before finding something of interest.

The makes of these bots were generally familiar. Many had been built just a few miles away by creators that were long gone... but many more would fill still beating hearts with anguish. In due time their masters would find out they were dead beyond repair, and the faux human for a rare moment couldn't think of anything more painful than the grief they would have to endure. Just knowing what happened, knowing that the beings they brought to life had been decimated... he was sure the feeling was immeasurable. With a long, careful sigh, he returned to the search and shifted body by body for any sign of life.

The gentle sound of his walk was interrupted moments later from the cry of one of his men. His eyes spun and he stared in the direction of the sound with an intense gravity. "Commander, Sir, I think you should see this," echoed from the underside of a fallen overpass.

With a swiftness that hadn't yet been displayed that night, he hastened to the scene and adjusted his eyes. His visor's light beamed with power as he knelt next to a pile of crushed cement for a closer look. The commander scanned the rough rubble carefully before beginning to pull a few bits away and revealing the deep red blood of an artificioid spurting from an empty shoulder socket. Sparks and gas spewed from the hollow wound and he took care to move slowly, not wanting to take a face full of bullets if this machine was still active. The robot was alive, as he had imagined, terribly wounded, covered in its own thick, red life force, and apparently unconscious. "Have your weapons at the ready," he alerted as he searched for any form of identity. His scanner failed to pick up any forms of artificial life surrounding him, save for those of his comrades. A soft groan escaped the damaged body as he turned it on its side to continue his search. No visible identity, mark, make or model, and not a single reading. "The hell kind of bot are you," the Neo-Armadian whispered to himself as he continued to attempt a scan.

"Sir," an artificioid interrupted, "I'm not getting any sort of readings from him..."

The commander growled and turned the unknown onto his back, picking at a soft plate at his nape. The square door was sealed tightly, but to an expert or a fellow bot, it was highly visible and easy to open. His fingertip withdrew and formed a metal point which he proceeded to insert into the seam of the little door. "Neither am I." The plate released to reveal a complex circuitboard, and he put his finger to it carefully. "This is something I've never seen before."

As he returned to his feet, he directed two of his men to continue exploring the area. "I'm taking this to Mother," he said as he drew his hand across his brow. "Continue your search. I'm leaving Cameo as your commanding officer until you are back at home base. If you find anything else of interest, report to me immediately." The commander removed his bloodstained helmet and handed it to one of the bots before eyeing the body in front of him. A gentle flick of the head was needed to get his now limp long hair out of his face, and once it was out of the way he lifted the groaning artificioid with ease. The sound and warmth of its gentle breath was a very welcome change, and he kept his grip firm yet soft, not wanting to cause any further damage.

The bot who must have been named Cameo grunted and set the helmet down. "Epsilon, you'll be in some serious shit if he wakes up and you don't have any kind of protection."

Turning his head only slightly, the blonde flashed his bright blue eyes and smiled. "Like hell he's gonna wake up..." He sneered and chuckled before heading back the way he came and retorting: "besides, what's he going to do with one arm anyway?" The commander waited for Cameo to make another remark and just smiled to himself as he heard nothing more than the crackle of flames and the breath of the unknown individual in his arms.

Epsilon felt the weight he was carrying shift against him as he continued the trek home.  Somewhat startled by the tattered bot, he turned his head to meet two bright green eyes and stared as he waited for a reaction. They were as bright as his own despite all the damage, and had not a single hint of the darkness that plagued most injured humanoids. Just a few minutes prior they were pitch in shade as he'd expected them to be, and this sudden vividness of recovery was remarkable. His own optics spun with disbelief and curiosity as he considered what could possibly be going on. This certainly wasn't the norm. The stranger's eyes looked back and the commander continued to wait, but nothing ever came; the bot simply continued to stare with a strange softness the militant had never seen before. The stranger's eyes shone with the same intensity of the fire around them, and Epsilon could do nothing more than continue to stare and finally utter "What is your name?"

Upon hearing the four words, the robot's breathing intensified, and his lips parted only momentarily before he slipped back into unconsciousness. The darkness in his eyes returned, and Epsilon waited for a few moments before realizing nothing would be said. Once he had assured himself that there was no more that could be done, he continued the careful walk home.