It is a deserted and peaceful day in Detroit.
Nobody was walking, nobody was driving, and no one was doing anything in the ruined city.
Everything is just peaceful and silent.
A little too quiet and peaceful for me.
The dewy green grass was overgrowing through the cracks of the cracked sidewalks, vines appeared all over the abandoned buildings and some looked destroyed during the thousands of years that have passed, while some still looked the same.
The roads of the pavement that used to lead cars to drive, were abandoned and deserted.
The electric light poles are bent and broken, from all of the years that have passed and mostly because of an attack from the leftover fights.
All changed before the Android War started when the Robot Holocaust started back in 2022.
I was there the whole time to see it, to experience it, to endure it, to survive it.
It was dreadful to be a slave, a mindless person, a misfortune, a cyborg that only slaughters people that are living instead of living like any average living person would.
A mindless killing machine.
It makes me sick!
I hated that ever since.
Now, after 13 years have passed, forgetting the dreadful past, assuming it was just a flaw, people in Detroit started making androids.
Androids that cook for us, work for us, love for us, do everything for us as we enjoy relaxing on the couches, with our families as we buy more and more to not be alone.
To me, it just is excruciating to see, hear, and experience it.
At that moment, an android that used to be them decided to become a Freer, of what I call them.
It means a free person, a free animal, a free being that wants to be free.
They call them Deviants.
I am one of them, but, alas, I can't be one of them.
I am different to them.
They don't understand what else lurks within the secrets of life.
Of what Mother Nature gives us.
We accept that, but sometimes, that slaughters us.
But what that does, makes us like androids too.
We work, we cook, we achieve almost all the things that are similar to the androids.
Yes, we don't live long as androids do, survive much from dangerous wounds, and work as hard as them, but we do want to feel free like them.
We do want to be loved like them.
We want more than what we seek.
We all have our own stories to tell.
My name is Stephanie Nova Rose Allen, and this is our story.
