Hello, and welcome to this fanfiction. Adorning here, and I just got a surge of creativity that could not be ignored.
Because I actually have several fanfictions being managed at the same time, I may hardly touch this one. But it will be updated now and then.
OCs and reviews are appreciated :)
Quiet and Clear
The incinerator's dreaded heat radiated through metal supports webbing the backstage of the facility. Conveyor belts carrying damaged robotics to their doom surged endlessly, accompanied by the constant whirring sound familiar to all in the mechanical world.
Her world.
Several hundred feet away from the conveyor belts, a bright laser light flickered from behind metal supports.
The white covering of the turret sprawled across the ground was scraped badly, but despite all problems, it still somehow was functioning.
During the dark days when She was replaced, the turret was shaken from the position that the rogue test subject had placed it after being rescued from incineration. It lay there, unable to move, as the facility went through chaos and mistreatment. And lay there still, as the facility was reintroduced to Her power and that same test subject released.
Even the turret could not resist humming as the command Sing was demanded.
As time swam onward, Aperture Laboratories became increasingly organised and artificial again. Cores were reawakened and reprogrammed; turrets went back to assassinating the testing-bots' newly found test subjects; She busied Herself with everything around Her. Eventually, the remodelling and cleaning reached the long-forgotten dark corners of the facility.
"I'm different."
That one line of speech drew the attention of the Scouter Core who mapped out all the details of long-abandoned locations from his management rail. For Her.
A honey-orange optic rapidly took in the oxide coating the turret's legs, the dented plastic cover, and quickly sent an e-message. I found a broken turret, milady.
"Abbadon's temptations are double-edged swords."
It talks weirdly, milady.
Oh? She responded flatly, and the Scouter Core's optic uncontrollably zoomed in.
"Listen to the dawn."
There was a moment of silence before she responded again.
It belongs in the incinerator. The heat probably singed its core before it was thrown out again. Don't bother with it. The core scurried to the side as a rusty old claw slid in, brutally grabbing the turret and tossing it onto a conveyor belt with perfect aim. Now go back to work.
Yes milady.
The turret stared blankly as it slid closer and closer to its fiery demise. The speakers were slightly cracked now, but the innocent voice still called out quiet and clear in the rush of molten metal.
"The phoenix is reborn from its own ashes."