Chapter 1
At Least It Wasn't My Alarm Clock
Someone once said, "The only thing certain about the future, is uncertainty." I can't exactly remember who said that. But whoever it was kinda had a point. A very good point. We never know what's going to happen when we wake up the next day. Life could go on as we expect it. Or it could come to an end. We could die in our sleep without ever realizing it until we get to the afterlife—if that even exists. Or we could just wake up the next day with a massive hangover and realize "wait, this isn't where I parked my car." And then things possibly go downhill from there.
That last situation is pretty much the situation I was in.
Minus the hangover and the car parts.
I remember clear as day that I feel asleep in my college dorm room after another rough day of mental exhaustion, but when I woke up, the first thing I noticed was that my back, was extremely uncomfortable. Noticing this, I let out a pained groan, and slowly sat up as I crack various bones in my vertebrae.
"What the hell, since when did my bed turn into solid rock?" I thought to myself. I mean, the dorm mattress wasn't great but it sure as hell felt a lot better than most of the hotel mattresses I slept on in the past. I can never sleep on any of those. But what I woke up to find myself sleeping on, I'm surprised I got any sleep at all. Because what I was sleeping on was actually rock. A concrete floor to be exact. I was still kinda groggy, so at first I didn't register what I was looking at. I've had times where I wake up in my dorm room, expecting to be in my bedroom back with my family, and then I realize, "Oh, right, I'm at college."
Except this time it was, "Wait, what happened to the carpet?" I was mentally asking myself that, as confusion took root in my mind. Which was then followed by panic as I looked up.
"The fuck?!" I practically shouted, my voice reverberating quite loudly in the metal structure building I was in. Or what was left of it, at least. Suffice it to say, whatever sleep I still had in my system, it was definitely gone now.
Where I was at this moment, I had no clue, but it definitely wasn't my dorm room. In fact it wasn't anywhere near the campus! Going by the structure in front of me I was in some sort of factory that had seen better days. I was in a tall circular room where one massive chunk of said room was missing entirely. Like it had been ripped away. By what, I couldn't tell. But when I looked too my left I saw…what appeared to be the busted remains of a massive buzz saw blade. Like REALLY massive. About as tall as an apartment complex.
"Well," I thought out loud, a bit shakily. "That's…something…" It definitely explained how the massive chunk of the building was missing. "What the hell happened here?
Actually, the better question, the one that I should have been asking is: Where in the hell am I? And while we're at it, how the hell did I even get here?
"Reactivation complete."
That sudden feminine robotic voice that now echoed throughout the room made me jump out of my skin. My current random situation was already freaking me out, and now I was hearing voices?! I turned in the direction where I heard the voice, which was directly behind me. There was a massive pile of rubble in my sight.
"Wh-who's there?!" I asked.
"This unit is designated Tactical Support Unit Pod-106. Assigned to YoRHa Unit 11B."
…I didn't understand what half of that meant.
"Uhhh…"
"Running diagnostic," the voice said again. "Complete. Result: Auto-locomotive subsystem non-functional. Visual Sensors: Functional. Auditory Sensors: Functional. Vocal Synthesizer: Functional. Bio Scan: Functional. Black Box Scan: Functional. Connection to Bunker: Non-functional. Dynamic Scan: Damaged. Photon Bullets: Functional. Beam: Functional. Mirage: Functional. Blade: Functional. Bomb: Damaged. Hammer: Damaged. Wave: Damaged. Gravity: Damaged. Request: Would the present individual please approach this unit."
"…Uhhh…you talkin' to me…?"
"Affirmative."
…Well, might as well try to figure out at least part of this predicament that I'm in. So, I decided to pick myself up off the floor and make my way over to the source of the voice. After I was done stretching the last bit of fatigue out of my system, I noticed…my bed…over by the pile of rubble…completely smashed and destroyed.
It then occoured to me that I was wearing the exact same clothes that I was when I went to bed; track shorts and a pure white T-shirt. Okay, so it's clear that I did not get here by any natural means, and whatever happened, it happened quite recently. If I had been dragged out here against my will by someone, I'm fairly certain I would have awoken at some point before ending up here. But I would have to put that headache on the back burner though. First, the voice. I slowly made my way over to the rubble pile.
"Umm…are you buried underneath here?"
"Affirmative."
I sighed. "Great. Physical labor after I just woke up. Fucking Mondays."
Reluctantly I started to rummage through the rubble, rock by rock. Considering the size of the pile, this was a task that was quite tedious. No matter how many rocks I removed, more just seemed to take their place. It took a solid five minutes of digging, before I stumbled upon what I thought was talking to me. But it definitely wasn't what I was expecting.
But then again I wasn't really sure what I was expecting.
It was a black box-looking machine with two stubby arms.
"Uhhh…are you the…thing I'm supposed to be looking for?" I asked.
"Affirmative. As stated before, this unit is designated Tactical Support Unit Pod-106."
"…Uhhhh…yeah, there's no way I'm going to be able to remember that in conversation. Is there anything I can call you for short?"
"Affirmative. Most YoRHa units address their Tactical Support units simply by 'Pod,' or by their designated number."
"…okay, so I guess…106, then?"
"Affirmative."
"Works for me."
There was a bit of silence between me and the strange machine for a bit. What the hell exactly was this thing? A robot? It said it was a support unit to…Your-Hah or whatever the hell. Was that some kind of organization? Military? No way, whatever this thing was it looked way too advanced from modern technology. The field of robotics hadn't produced anything like this, not as far as I was aware…but then again, concealed projects were a thing. Maybe this was some new kind of…I dunno, drone that was having a field test? But if that were the case, why was it stuck under a pile of rubble? Was it abandoned? Did it fail? No, if it failed wouldn't the people who made it want to retrieve it to find out why it failed? And from what I could tell, aside from a few scrapes…and a few busted functions, according to its diagnostic run, it seemed to be working just fine. I was about to ask 106 more information about itself, but it spoke again before I could open my mouth.
"No Black Box signs detected. Hypothesis: 11B has either been destroyed, or is missing. Querry: Has the individual present made recent contact with any YoRHa units?"
…
"Uhhh…I…want to say…no?" Wait a minute, 106's life story would have to wait. "Actually, real talk here, I have no clue about most of what your saying, I literally, just woke up here, and I don't even no where here is. I just went sleep in my room, on my bed, which is currently lying wrecked over there, and then when I wake up to find that my back is killing me, because I've apparently been sleeping on a concrete floor for who knows how long."
Another moment of silence.
"Elevated stress levels detected in vocal pattern," 106 spoke.
No shit.
"No black boxes in the area have been detected. Analysis: The individual present may be a missing Resistance android."
…hold on, what?
"Android?" I asked, not sure what this thing was getting at. "What, you mean like a robot or something? That kinda stuff only exists in sci-fi, I mean do I look like an android to you? And what the hell is the Resistance? What is there to resist other than government conspiracies that may or may not exist?"
The moment I finished that thought, I immediately realized how ridiculous that sounded. You're talking to a friggin robot, you idiot. It's pretty clear that sci-fi isn't "fi" right now; it's…I dunno what that would be called, non-sci-fi? Deriving from non-fiction?
Getting back on track, there was once again, another moment of silence. I got the feeling this was going to be pretty consistent for a bit.
"Analysis: The individual present does not contain a black box signal. Logic would dictate that you are a Resistance android. However, you have denied that you are an Android, and in addition, claim to have no knowledge of the Resistance and therefor, the war."
Oh goodie, more shit that didn't make sense. "The war?" I asked. "What war? I mean, I know there's like a few wars going on in the Middle East, but as far as I know there's nothing like World War II going on in the States. Unless…oh God, did I end up in the Middle East somehow?!" Or did World War III actually happen and I just slept through it somehow? No, that didn't make any sense. None of this made any sense. I was seriously on the verge of flipping my shit at this point.
"Analysis: The individual present has—"
"Would you please stop referring to me as 'individual?!'" I shouted, getting increasingly frustrated at this whole mess. "I have a name! Sam King!"
There was yet another moment of silence before 106 started to continue where I interrupted it. "…Analysis: The individual present has identified himself with a name typically given to humans. First name: Sam. Last name: King. Is this correct?"
Okay, seriously, this was getting ridiculous, I was getting more confused by the minute. This thing was talking like it never saw a human before. "Uuuuhhh…yes?"
"Confirmed. Analysis: Data in conversation has yielded possible evidence that you contain information about the old world. Query: Are you a human?"
"Uh, yeah, what, isn't that obvious?" And what did it mean by "old world?"
"Initiating Bio-Scan." Just then a small antenna popped out of the little machine. I guess it was scanning me to see that I was human? Wasn't really sure why. "Scan complete. Sam King: Confirmed human. Query: Why are you not on the moon?"
Okay, what? "Uh…why would I be on the moon? I mean, as far as I'm aware, colonization on there hasn't even started, let alone been possible for years." We've only been able to put people on there in small groups of three or five and even then it takes a long time to get to and from the moon. Like…eight months for both trips."
"Since the start of the Machine War, all remaining humans from Earth have migrated to the moon, leaving the androids to fight the Machine life forms and their alien creators."
Okay, WHAT?! "Uuuuummmm…okay, I can hear you saying words, but they don't exactly line up in a sentence that makes sense. First of all; Machine War? What the hell is that and when did that start? Second; aliens? Seriously? You honestly expect me to believe that?"
"…This unit would like to express concern of Sam King's lack of knowledge of current events." Okay, was this thing trying to sass me? "Query: What was the date when you went to sleep?"
"Uuuhh…well, it was about two in the morning…so technically it was…March 19th, 2020. Why?"
...
"Mission objective updated. Under YoRHa protocol 221, all information pertaining to humanity must be preserved. This, by extension, includes any human survivors on the planet. Current objective: Escort Sam King to the Resistance camp and provide support by whatever means necessary. Upon arrival, establish connection with YoRHa unit 42O and alert the Commander of Sam King's status as a human. If possible, confirm the status of 11B."
"Um…does that mean you're going to help me?"
"Affirmative. However, this unit's auto-locomotive sub system is inoperable. This unit will not be able to move without assistance. Request: Please pick up this unit."
"Okay…" I reached down and picked up 106 with both of my hands. It was…surprisingly not as heavy as I thought it would be. I mean it wasn't a cotton ball, but it wasn't as heavy as I was expecting it to be.
"Protocol 531 prohibits any non YoRHa units, human or otherwise, from interacting with Tactical Support Units. However, considering Protocol 221 assumes priority, temporary exceptions have been made. Please take good care not to damage this unit any further."
"Okay…thanks I guess…so…any idea how to get to this…Resistance camp?"
"Unable to obtain satellite information. Distance to Resistance camp unknown."
"Great…so you have no idea how to get out of here then?"
"Affirmative."
I sighed. "Well, no use standing around here then. Might as well make use of the missing wall and start walking."
"Analysis: The damage done to the structure appears to have been made by the Goliath Class target enemy. Caution is advised, as the status of target enemy is unknown."
"Target…hold on…Goliath…would this "Goliath" happen to be the owner of that oversized buzz saw over there?"
"Affirmative."
"…fun place," I said sarcastically. I may be an atheist, but I remember reading the bible enough times to understand the significance behind the name Goliath. Massive whatever-it-is bearing a massive buzz saw equals a massive hole in the wall. Logic…of sorts.
"Hypothesis: Other hostiles may be present. Query: Are you capable of defending yourself?"
"Uh-whoa hold on a second! I'm not going to have to fight am I?!"
"Affirmative. However, due to this unit's inability to mobilize, combat options are limited. Request: Please pick up 11B's YoRHa issue blade, located five feet to your right."
I looked over to my right and sure enough there was a red colored sword lying on the ground near by another busted machine that kinda looked like some sort of…bipedal jet. That's what I was going to have to use?! Against what?!
"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, WAIT! I'm not a combatant okay? I don't know how to hold a sword, much less how to fight! I've never even fired a gun before! I can't do this!"
"Response: This unit hypothesized Sam King's inability to battle. Proposal: While avoiding combat would be the best solution, traversing without a method of effective self-defense is unwise. Summary: Pick your fights."
"But…" As much as I didn't believe half of what this thing was telling me, I couldn't entirely deny the possibility of getting mugged. I never took any self-defense classes, but I'm sure anyone with a dagger would go bug-eyed at a guy with a long sword. So, reluctantly, I walked over and picked it up. It was about the weight I expected. It basically was a simple katana but going from the design of the hilt and handle, it suggested this thing was a little more advanced than your average katanta. Maybe it would be good for more than two strikes unlike my fake katana back home.
"Okay, so...there's a problem…not only do I have no clue how to use a sword effectively…I'm going have to issues carrying you in my arms and swinging a sword around."
"Acknowledged. Proposal: This unit's limbs can grapple on to Sam King's shoulders and act as, what the humans in the old world refer to as, a backpack, of sorts."
"That…actually would work pretty well. Just don't grip to tightly on the shoulders, okay? They get sore pretty easily."
"Acknowledged." 106 then grabbed onto my right shoulder and swung itself around my back and then hooked onto my left shoulder.
The weight was about the same as the weight of the backpack that I carried around with me at college. I usually had a LOT of books in there, so the weight was about the same, if maybe slightly heavier. But other than that, it was manageable.
"Further analysis yields that this unit can provide cover fire from Sam King's rear."
"Well, good to know that I an extra set of…eyes, I guess, for lack of a better term, behind me. Also, could you just call me Sam? When I hear someone address me by my full name, I turn around and expect to see my mathematics professor." And that guy's a dick to me, and the rest of the students in my class. Or any class he teaches.
"Acknowledged."
"Okay…welp…here goes…"
Silver lining; at least it wasn't my alarm clock.
…
VOICE CAST
Sam King – Andrew Hindle
Pod 106 – Cynthia Marcucci