Prussia leant against a large window atop a neon-illuminated cyberpunk skyscraper, and stared mournfully out of it. Hundreds of other colossal buildings dominated the landscape, stretching up to the sky, bustling with daintily maneuvering air traffic. The streets below were bustling with the city's perpetually glaring lights and computer monitors, distorted by clouds of smog that rose and lingered ominously. He looked down towards the humans who lived out their feeble, short lives. The sun shone through a construction site in front of him, creating distinctive rays of orange light which filled the mostly empty room that he stood in and created long shadows. Sunlight shone onto Prussia's face, but his red bionic eyes prevented him from having to look away. His hair was greasy and unkempt, and it was due to be replaced by synthetics.
Gilbird perched beside him on a desk. "You really don't care for them anymore, do you?" Gilbird asked.
"Not anymore," replied Prussia without turning around, his voice altered by a prosthetic voice box after his vocal chords had decomposed. Despite sounding different, Prussia retained his German accent. After a long pause he finally continued, "all humans who believed in me have died out. They were only trying to keep me in line anyway. I should be glad they're all dead."
"Are you glad they're all dead?"
"Yes, yes. Being alone is better," said Prussia, nodding. Prussia turned and looked at Gilbird. Although his face was no longer capable of displaying much emotion, he wanted to show Gilbird that he was sure of what he had said.
"Your dead citizens were only trying to keep you in line," agreed Gilbird flatly.
Gilbird had died a long time ago, yet Prussia liked to believe that he was still there for him to talk to. It mitigated the pain of loneliness. After decades, maybe even centuries of talking to Gilbird, Prussia had forgotten that his feathered companion was imaginary. Believing in Gilbird was easy now that silicon and fiber optic cables were beginning to take hold of his decaying brain. Prussia displayed an extensive list of mental illness symptoms as he whittled away, resulting in an almost complete rewiring of his brain. His eyes no longer functioned either; he went blind in one eye, then the other. New bionic eyes with laser tracking and thermal optics were fitted to his head. Prussia was on a slippery slope to complete mechanization, while the alternative was to decompose like a corpse. It would be a slow way to die, a fate that his predecessors had to suffer.
"You used to be the very ground that humans walked on. And now look what you've become; redundant," said Gilbird. Upon hearing this, Prussia punched Gilbird, but to no effect. Prussia could only punch with his left hand because his right hand had mutilated almost beyond recognition. Flesh and bones were ripped away, a painful reminder of what was happening to him. He gave up trying to hurt Gilbird, and slumped down.
"Damn it, I don't want to die," he mumbled meekly before sitting down with his back to the window and legs close to his body.
"Don't worry," Gilbird hopped down in front of Prussia and spoke gently, "technology will keep you alive."
Prussia looked at Gilbird, "and is being a machine really a way to live?"
"Yes it is," said Gilbird simply. His words, projected through Prussia's subconscious, were influenced by Prussia's new benefactors. It was a few seconds before either Prussia or Gilbird said anything. Eventually, Gilbird asked, "do you think you are still human? Do you think you were ever a human?"
Prussia chuckled sadly, "does it even matter? My thoughts and actions are already under the influence of a computer. Is it to compensate for my broken brain, or is it to alter my personality completely? In the end, I suppose, I'll feel no different." Prussia's lips began to shakily curve upwards, "Dr. Schäfer says my prosthetics are just the tip of the ice berg. After today's upgrade, my emotions will influenced through algorithms. Imagine that! I'll be able to feel again."
"What emotions?" Gilbird was beginning to annoy Prussia again.
"Huh?" Prussia retorted.
"You were always resolute, always fighting to your cause. You always suppressed your emotions..." Gilbird began.
"Yeah, well, I was created to fight," said Prussia wistfully.
"It was the humans," said Gilbird, "after all, you were nothing but a figment of their collective imaginations. And those emotions you felt were under the influence of those within your borders. You as a person had no control over them."
"Emotions? Like, love," said Prussia quietly, "I think the only people, no, nations I've ever loved are Germany, who now hates me, and Hungary."
"She's still alive, even in this century," said Gilbird, "you can see her after being discharged from the facility."
"I'm not going to see her," said Prussia firmly.
"How come?" Gilbird tilted his head.
"I think she hates me too. I was a complete ass to her. She thinks I'm dead now," Prussia sighed.
"I don't blame Hungary for hating you," said Gilbird, much to Prussia's annoyance, "and Germany? Do you think you'll ever see him again?"
"I don't want to," said Prussia scornfully, "I used to be happy for him. I was proud of what he had accomplished, then he pushed me aside. Subsuming my territory and my citizens. He's trying to kill me. It's not just the humans. It's him! I'm going to destroy Germany."
"Really now, are you?" Asked Gilbird sarcastically, "or will you just wait for him to be dissolved by the UN and corporations?"
The heavy blast-proof door to Prussia's room opened, and Dr. Schäfer entered. She was one of the most brilliant scientists Prussia had working for him. She wore a lab coat with red and black stains and electronic paper scrunched into all her pockets. "Mr. Beilschmidt, the technicians are ready for your upgrade now. Shall we begin?"
Prussia stood up and wearily walked towards her, "yes," he said simply.