Colin found himself in a small, concrete room near the end of the hallway. It was cold and full of harsh light from the single lightbulb in the center of the ceiling. There were two dinky old foldable chairs and a scratched wooden table lounging in the center of the room. The man in front of him was glaring at the boy, but when he noticed he was "conscious" and looking towards him, he softened up and sighed. Colin half wondered if his face was something that made others uncomfortable. No one ever reacted to it the same way.

Colin watched the worker settle himself into one of the chairs and he awkwardly followed suit.

"So... you claim that you are 18 years of age?"

"Yes sir," Colin recited confidently. It seemed correct to use polite words like sir, just as it felt right to him to be the age he claimed he was. Why couldn't anyone else see that?

"And you claim that you are also an object, a computer one at that. Pretty modern seeming..." Of course, there were computers 18 years ago, and they would have been the bulky kind he was seemingly formed after, but still.

"Why, yes. What else would I be?"

The worker sighed and folded his hands in front of his face, glancing up at Colin distinctly. Colin felt a chill run through his spinal cord.

"According to your... 'records' you're three years old, kid. And from what else we can glean from you, you're definitely not an object."

Colin felt his body turn even colder than it normally was. Everything he'd said was true. Nothing had contradicted his age, no matter what his date of creation said. "That doesn't make any sense! I remember being eighteen! I look like an object, don't I?" He clenched his fists without ordering them to.

"Listen, your previous statements and quite frankly childish behavior lead us to believe you were 'created' about three years ago, like you claim," the worker stood up and began tapping his clipboard with a pen, "Furthermore, closer inspection has led us to believe you are in fact NOT an object. Everyone knows only corrupt objects take HUMAN names but you show no signs of it besides the ink color. No other oddities that could be explained with corruption mutation, and your true abnormalities have only one real explanation. You have metallic body parts, missing body parts, wirey body parts, and the strangest brain construction we've ever seen. We have no choice but to come to the conclusion that...

you are a robot."

Time seemed to slow down, as if he was processing everything at a faster rate than ever before. Colin felt something inside his circuitry snap. No, he wasn't! He wasn't a robot! He couldn't be, robots aren't people! He knew he was a person, he knew he felt real things, made real choices. He was normal, he had to be an object!

Colin shot out of his chair, knocking it over as he screamed, "NO! NO NO NO I'M NOT! I'm not a robot, I'm a real living object AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME SAY OTHERWISE!"

The worker nervously worked his way towards the volatile boy, "Hey, calm down kid. You don't have to get upset about it, it's just a fact of life, there are plenty of other robots out there-" Colin felt his left wrist twitch and turn in a circle, "We can still find you a home or even some identification. You don't have to get all worked up about being a—"

The worker didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. Right as he place his hands on Colin's shoulders, Colin screamed "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Colin felt his hand move without orders, shooting straight through the man's neck. Blood oozed out of the corners of the wound and down his arm as he stared in surprise at his own action. As he pulled his arm back, the liquid streamed out of the man's neck as he collapsed on the ground utterly still.

Colin glanced at his blood stained hand. It had transformed into... some sort of point? Almost like an arrow or a... mouse cursor... no...

Immediately as he felt that apprehension, it transformed back into his gloved hand by twisting around and shooting inside of his wrist, allowing the normal form to shoot back out. Strange. Well... he STILL didn't have any identification. A glimmer shone in the corner of his eye and he saw a small card that fell out of the man's pocket in the struggle.

Colin picked it up and his vision turned red. There was a white line moving horizontally across the card, then as soon as it started, it stopped. Colin felt something hard fall out of his mouth and a new card with his OWN information landed on the floor. How terribly convenient!

Colin slipped the card into his shorts pocket and hummed to himself as he strutted out the door. As he turned the corner he bumped into someone. A tall... thin... scary man.

"Oh, sorry I-" He immediately shut up at the sight of his face. Colin stared at this man's creepy, sunken eyes and glanced at his thinning blue hair and worn brown overalls. He looked so terribly dirty too and he kept breathing heavily as he looked down at him. Nothing else. Just breathing.

"Oh, erm... sorry sir, I'll just... be on my way... ahaha!"

He had never laughed like that before. It felt unnatural.

Colin walked down the hall and went into town.