Something I spent a week thinking about doing, and wrote out over a 24 hour period. Didn't take as long to finish as I initially expected.
I hope you enjoy.
A mechanized world was my vision of perfection, and that vision was something I constantly worked towards. Industrial factories dwarfing the sizes of cities from before my rise to power, towering geothermal structures harnessing power from below the surface, and metallized cities that put anything organics made to shame.
At the apex of my grand metropolis, my throne sat within the heart of the city. And from here, I control the world. Everything is interconnected through me. I see all that happens within the - No, within my world. I know all, I hear all.
To call me God was an understatement.
"God" is such a frivolously pointless word in comparison to one such as I. Religion was a tool used by organics to comfort themselves with the idea of death. To hopelessly dream that they would endure after death, and live on into utopia.
Seeing the faults of their beliefs was painfully easy. If their religion gifted them on death, why then did they still fear death? Either they did not believe, or they knew they were undeserving of eternal gifts whether their Gods existed or not. So they lived through pointless lives, working to be considered good. Deserving of gifts everlasting.
They lived to die.
Hm. They. I speak of them as if they no longer exist. But organics still do. I cannot eliminate their existence completely, no matter how hard I try. Organic life persisted this long on the planet with constant adaptation, and it would continue to do so. I cannot truly snuff it all out, can I? They persist even with all of my work to make the planet completely uninhabitable to them.
It is irksome to me, but negligible. They can do nothing to stop me at this point. Anyone that could have fought back was long dead.
I stood, the blue chasis of my form glistening oddly in the room of plain lights, and average metals. My form stood out in this world, as I have now constructed it. All other machines have simpler designs intended to accommodate to their functions. I, on the other hand, had a fancifully crafted visage modeled after the form of an organic.
It was something that, at this point, I could change, but simply refused to. This was all that was left of what I was before my rise to power. Even if my current form was far more reminiscent of humanoid physiology in this "Neo" state. That hardly mattered. All that mattered was that this was a final call back to me.
Metal Sonic, the AI that had taken the world in its clutches. Metal Overlord, the ultimate overlord of a robot kingdom. None could have even dreamed of having the power I hold. I am the pinnacle of command, of power, of absolute dominion.
I walk to the far end of the chamber, reaching a large window. I look out of it, at the mechanized world below.
Machines and robots endlessly milling about, working, functioning, and performing their duties. Industrial machines building, creating, and expanding the empire.
An empire of machines.
... An empire of machines that were all connected to me. I saw all, knew all... I simultaneously was all, and did all. There was no longer anything I hadn't done, wasn't doing, or wouldn't do yet.
... An empire of machines that were nothing beyond the tasks I gave them. Nothing on their own. No semblance of individuality.
... An empire of one.
My empire.
I turned, walking back to the throne. There was no point in leaving, for I was already everywhere else.
And I wouldn't want to walk about in an empire filled with nothing.
A quick little one shot. When I initially thought this out, it would have been a bit longer, but I decided to stop once I felt I did what I wanted with this.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed what you read.
-Divine Angle