"It's out of our hands now. You and I can't both exist," said Germany matter-of-factly.
"We can. I'll find a way to keep on living. I'll never disappear. I was created to thrive and that is what I'll do," replied Prussia, with the voice of a desperate maniac.
"Prussia, you..." Germany began.
"I've already listened to your little criticisms. So save your breath. Is a tree not a tree if it does everything a tree would do, but is artificial and not organic? What if it's ten times more efficient than any tree before?" Prussia rambled on.
Germany decided to remain on topic and not squander over what an 'efficient tree' would be. "What I'm saying is, you won't be Prussia anymore. The territory your soul was bonded with is now defunct, and people who were once your citizens will move on and stop believing in you. You can keep your physical form using whatever science can throw at you, but Prussia will be gone. Like a ghost. A relic, alone," said Germany solemnly.
Prussia laughed, "do you think that's what this is about? That I want to remain a country? That's horse shit. I'm trying to live for as long as I can, brother. We nations are gods among humans, but it won't be too long until humanity loses faith in countries. How many decades do you think it'll be until you're reduced to a few paragraphs in a history book or a blotch on a long timeline?"
"Join me and we can lead the way into a automaton utopia. We'll engineer a way to avoid the decay that our parents and grandparents had to endure. Humans will soon bow down to us, their robot overlords," said Prussia, collating his thoughts.
Germany said nothing for a few seconds until finally saying, "you're insane. It's no wonder the humans had to cut you loose. You're too proud to accept your fate."
"A computer in my head will cure my insanity," hissed Prussia.
Germany scoffed, "then talk to me after that's happened."
"Fine by me. Bye," said Prussia coldly.
Prussia hung up and exited a phone booth onto a rainy street corner in former East Berlin. He clicked open a can of beer, his sixth one that day, but found his arm slow to respond when lifting the can to his lips. His hand then began to sting like a paper cut. Looking closely at the back of his hand, Prussia watched in horror as a strip of skin peeled away. That hand deteriorated over the next decade, so he had it replaced by a bionic animatronic hand.
As Prussia's body disintegrated, he continued replacing himself. It became an addiction. And once there was hardly any organic tissue left, he replaced his artificial organs and limbs with faster and stronger versions. His old bionic hands were the first to go, replaced by hands that were larger,could turn 360 degrees and had a grip strength that exceeded 400 pounds. Software updates became available for his brain, which he would download at the first opportunity. It felt good to be a machine, or at least, that's what his machine brain told him.
An aeon or so after he first noticed himself deteriorating, Prussia walked on the surface of Mars. His heavy boots, which could not be removed, left a long track of footprints on the otherwise untouched barren wasteland on his way to the Tainan City.
After climbing from the debris of the wrecked subterranean spaceport, he turned and saw a dropship banking lazily through the sky like a massive whale. Prussia then hoisted up the ropes that soldiers had previously rappelled down, then fled. As the distance between him and the mining settlement increased, he could properly observe the damage inflicted on the facility. Multiple points were breached and smoke rose high into the dry Martian sky. The colossal bucket wheel excavators worked dauntlessly, undeterred by the onslaught from the unknown enemy while dropships continued to deploy troops and drones. Prussia looked on as one of the excavators came crashing down, crumpling and imploding into a huge cloud of dust.
"Petty savages," said Gilbird. Prussia turned away and continued trudging through the cold desert of a planet. He no longer needed oxygen to survive, and could therefore stroll comfortably without having to worry about what gases composed Mars's inhospitable atmosphere. If Prussia was still made of organic matter he would probably feel as though he were perpetually drowning, breathing air with hardly any oxygen. He would loose consciousness, but not die.
As he kept on walking, his leg motors functioned without the computer in his head having to tell them to do so. It also no longer had to send information to the gyroscope to keep him upright as a subconscious 'autopilot' took over. He only had to intervene when coming across any rocks that he had to walk around or take a particularly large step over.
The Tiu Valles canyon spread from horizon to horizon; an extraordinarily long rift that snaked across the land. On the other side of the canyon, just poking above the horizon, were a few skyscrapers and chimneys. Each had superstructures that elongated them further above the ground. "That's where we're going," remarked Gilbird.
"Yeah, when we find a way across this canyon. I guess Poseidon didn't think this far ahead," said Prussia scornfully.
"Maybe he knows a way across that we haven't thought of," said Gilbird.
Prussia walked carefully to the edge of the canyon. Peering down precariously, he saw that the depths of the canyon were darkened, far enough below the surface to be devoid of light. Switching his eyes to infrared failed to help him gauge the canyon's depth, so he fired a powerful laser into the darkness. It gave him a depth reading of more than a kilometre, way too high to jump and expect a safe landing, even for a machine such as himself that was built to last.
The river that once flowed through the darkness where Prussia's laser shone would have been an incredible sight. It was mighty enough to punch its way through the ground and create this enormous canyon. It took a catastrophe that was even more incredible just to kill it; Mars's prehistoric apocalypse that reduced this canyon from a container of a lush yet powerful force of water to a dried up hulking trench.
"You can clear that in one jump," said Gilbird.
Prussia turned to him, huffing, "that's easy for you to say. You've got wings."
"And this planet's gravity is less than that on Earth," said Gilbird, who flew in circles around Prussia's head. The thought of jumping a canyon reminded him of the testing track he had encountered after the fitting of his first sets of synthetic limbs, when he was still being prodded by scientists and technicians. The test track was to test both his cognitive and athletic abilities. It took place after the computer in his head, a technological marvel, succeeded in passing the Turing Test when time's attrition had completely corroded his old brain's organic tissue. The testing track was situated in the spacious flat Mojave Desert where scientists would sweat in the relentless heat, and he would look on, unfazed by the temperature and proud that he no longer had to worry about such a human bodily function.
There was no need for such vigorous testing after finding the correct way to install these robotic components and how they work. The pioneer phase of the project was completed, and efforts were shifted to improving rather than understanding.
During the testing, Prussia's new legs allowed him to jump a measly two metres, but was not seen as something that needed to be improved. They were strong, impact-absorbing and could walk long distances without malfunctioning, which was what mattered. But that was a long time ago, and Prussia had undergone upgrades since then.
He trudged away from the canyon edge and took a run-up. Mars's weaker gravity took effect, and it looked for a second as though he would succeed. But disappointment settled in when the opposite edge blocked his view of the horizon. A fraction of a second later all he could see was the canyon wall. His fingers jabbed into the rock reflexively, clinging to anywhere they could and locking in place.
Prussia felt as though he were hanging from a thread. His body swung to the left when he released his right hand from the canyon wall in an effort to haul his body upwards, excreting a large amount of energy just to plant his fingers into any gaps or grooves. He repeated this precarious process with his left hand, his feet scrabbling for a place to gain footing. He was almost thrown off into the darkness when his hand gave way on one occasion when he was reaching into a crack above a rock that gave way and tumbled down, leaving him hanging on one arm for longer than anticipated. But in a hiss of smoke, he was grasping firmly at the space the rock had cleared.
Desperation became joy when his synthetic fingers grasped the planet's sandy surface. He pulled himself to the top and rolled before standing up. He brushed some of the dust off of himself, then walked away as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
When the Tainan City loomed towards Prussia from over the dusty horizon, he saw one building that dominated the others. He could barely see the top of the dark grey skyscraper. The top of the building could barely be seen from where he stood, but Prussia could clearly see a cable that went straight upwards to the sky. Drones of varying sizes hovered and skipped around the exterior, sometimes entering and exiting nooks and crannies like puffins on the side of a cliff. A huge dropship, identical to the one he saw back at the attacked Poseidon mining facility, passed over his head and circled the imposingly enormous building.
The Tainan City was encased by a wall of lasers, so Prussia patiently walked around to find an entry point while ignoring the cameras and gun turrets that were tracking his every move. There was nobody queuing at the nearest gate, nor was it guarded by any officers. When he walked to it, he felt the familiar electronic communication to the microchip ask Gilbert Beilschmidt Y/N. Through his head, Prussia electronically selected Y. In an instant Prussia became immobilised. His arms no longer responded when he tried to move them, as though wires had been severed. A ten barrel gun constructed itself directly above him. Prussia gasped, trying even harder to break free.
The next thing he knew, he was lying on a street corner. He shook and picked himself off the pavement, then spun around. He was in an unfamiliar place and needed situational awareness. The wall of lasers was right behind him, so close that he stumbled forwards a couple of steps in surprise. He then saw someone, perhaps a citizen of this city, standing perfectly still. They were so still that Prussia failed to notice them at first. He walked out from behind the building he was transported next to, out into a main street that led directly to the huge skyscraper he had seen from a distance.
Dozens of citizens stood still, their black cloaks flapping in the gentle breeze and faces hidden. It was an ominous sight, and it made Prussia wonder if he should also be standing still, and what the consequences would be if he didn't. He groaned as an external signal interrupted his thoughts. Someone, or something, was communicating directly into his head. "Successfully..." He heard a voice between his ears that was not his own, "...minimal casualties," a face appeared in his mind, out of nowhere. It was talking. It was definitely humanoid, with eyes concealed by a shiny chrome panel that seemed to be attached to the forehead. Wires led out from that panel, and from the back of the head, in an all manor of directions. A neck and shoulders appeared under the head, along with a black background. The person that Prussia saw had the voice and physical traits of a female.
"The capture and annexation of the Poseidon facility is yet another victory," she said vigorously, "we'll crush the life of that sucker, until he chokes to death on a rejection for Chapter fucking 11!" People clapped and cheered all around Prussia, almost robotically. They seemed well-rehearsed in showing celebration. She continued, "Poseidon's irresponsible mining has destroyed Phobos and Daimos by cracking them to pieces and causing thousands of worker fatalities. Such a disregard to safety has been deemed illegal, by me. Without Tainan intervention, the same thing will happen here on Mars!" People gasped in unison, their gasps lasted exactly three seconds. "This has been a pivotal day Tainan Corporation's place in history's never-ending strife for supremacy. Corporations have succeeded in wiping away the nations that have stunted progress, and now we will kill all who challenge the great and powerful Tainan!" She disappeared from inside Prussia's head as her broadcast ceased. As though released from a trance, people started moving again.
"I suppose that woman is the Tainan Corporation," muttered Prussia to Gilbird, "she's crazy, but I like her."
Prussia traversed the streets of Tainan Corporation's city. All mutated humans wore long cloaks with coats and gloves, with their faces covered by heavy breathing apparatus. It reminded him of cities he had seen in Siberia, where people could die from the harsh conditions if they left their homes without the proper clothing. Transhumans and robots moved much faster. Prussia noticed that the city was circular, with the tallest of the buildings in the centre. Shops and restaurants were pressurised from the Martian atmosphere. A corpse lay rotting beside a dumpster, but nobody paid any attention to it.
As sudden as everybody had started moving, they all stood still again. Prussia prepared himself for another broadcast. The woman, still endowed with her chrome plate and wires, appeared in his head again. "This is Tainan," she announced, "I sense a discrepancy. There is someone who should not be here. Someone who should not exist. Someone who belongs to a race that dyed out in the dark ages, before I liberated this city from the UN. He is deadly and allied with Poseidon, and must be taken out."