Rise of the Machines: Chapter 1

By Icura and Vahn (Vahnhammer on SB)

~o~

As the sun continued to beat down on him, John Connor's fingers danced across the holographic keyboard. Throughout the entire morning, he had alternated between sitting in the sun and being in the shade whenever it got too hot and dry for him. While working these past twenty-three days, it had become somewhat of a routine. Well, he wasn't at this everyday, but there never really seemed to be a change in the sky.

'Haven't really seen a cloud either,' John idly thought, instinctively raising his arm to wipe the sweat off his forehead. However, before he could even touch it, a chilled hand towel was pressed against his forehead. The soft fabric swished back and forth across his skin, absorbing his perspiration. When it was finally pulled away, he nodded his thanks to Popola who simply smiled brightly in response before she handed the used towel off to Devola to be stored away. If it was before, he would have thought it would be to have it cleaned later, but every time a towel was used, it always seemed to be a new one. Either they were cleaning it so professionally that he couldn't tell the difference, they were tossing them away, or they were making a shrine out of his used towels. Maybe that last one was an exaggeration, but he couldn't honestly put it past them at this point; it wouldn't be the strangest thing that they did.

His fingers once again continued their dance back and forth across the holographic keyboard, something that had become so routine at this point that he could possibly do it with his eyes closed. As for what was he doing? It was the same thing that he had been doing frequently during these past few weeks.

Closing down wireless access ports.

"There."

John leaned back in his chair, turning his head as he did so to give a glance at the pod floating beside him. It was a familiar pod to him by now, having accompanied him ever since it was assigned. Still, it did change a little bit; last week, the pod had gotten the word "BUDDY" imprinted on its side. It was even expertly done that it looked as if it had always been there instead of something haphazardly slopped on. Basically, the difference between a professional paint job and graffiti. The pod proudly—or at least, as proudly as a one-tone voice could be—informed him anyway that it took the initiative to get it done.

"Go ahead and check it."

"Confirmation: Acknowledged. Proceeding to assess your work." The pod floating next to him seemed to sway a bit from side to side before it turned back to him, its one large optic making sure to focus in on him. "No outgoing signal detected from the machine lifeform."

"Great. Thanks, bud." The holographic screen and keyboard faded away when John exited out of his work. John turned back to the small machine lifeform that was only a few steps away. It was a peculiar munchkin of a machine, wearing a polka dot dress and a pink bow on its head.

The script that he had prepared for Pascal should have taken care of all the machine lifeforms, but there were always outliers where it didn't work for one reason or another. Those were the ones that were sent to him. Honestly, he could have taught one of the scanner units like 9S to be able to do it since they seemed to understand his work to an extent, but the distrust between androids and machine lifeforms wasn't something that could be easily solved in a short amount of time. Not that he blamed them since it was justified; the war had been going on for a long time. Hypothetical speaking, if 9S had a big enough grudge, there would be no way to guarantee that he wouldn't make malicious alterations while he was in there. And even if he didn't, what if the machines thought he did? It was a headache best prevented from happening in the first place, which led him to this situation.

While he didn't mind at first since, after applying the fix, John was able to use the rest of the time to look around. However, there was a strange uniformity and aberration to their code. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, if he were to combine parts of their code from different machines, it would be able to make a basic framework. A very familiar basic framework. However, what made every machine different from each other were the alterations, additions, and junk coding in there. If given time, he could do something with it, but he was looking at the code a bit underhandedly in the first place so segueing into that was more than a bit difficult. For now, at least.

Maybe he could do something similar if he took a look at the android's code, but that was a whole different issue. However, unlike with the machine lifeforms, this felt more problematic to him. Even if he probably wouldn't be able to understand much of the data in there—it would certainly be more complex than the machine lifeform's—it felt he would be an abuse of their trust even if he got their permission to essentially look into their heads. Not only that, but it was deeply invasive no matter how he thought about it. They acted so human that it was easy to forget that they were actually mechanical, and that made it just as easy to sympathize with their feelings and plight. If he put himself in their place, he wouldn't want anyone to open up his skull unless it was a life or death situation.

Then again, maybe androids would look at it differently since their physiology was obviously different…

Well, that was a worry for another time.

John nodded before he turned to look at the polka dot dressed machine lifeform.

"I-is it over?" The hesitant, childlike tone of the electronically synthesized voice made him pause for a moment. Even though he had heard that same voice periodically throughout the entire work process, it had never stopped feeling strange, though it was probably due to it being both similar and dissimilar to a child's voice.

"Yep, nice and easy. Told you you wouldn't feel a thing," John said to the machine lifeform. "Off you go."

The eyes of the machine lifeform lit up brighter. It gingerly got to its feet and moved its body around, as if checking to see if anything funny was done to it. Eventually, it seemed satisfied with its short inspection and began to walk over to him at a quick pace.

"Thank you, Mister Con—ahhh!"

A massive two-handed blade stabbed into the ground in between them, causing the small machine to give a frightened squeal and fall onto its back. The one holding the sword—which was large enough to look more fitting in a video game than in real life—was his current bodyguard, 33B. At a height that was taller than him, she stared down at the machine lifeform harshly. Well, at least, that was what he thought she was doing though it was hard to tell with the blindfold that she was wearing. However, there was a slight downward curve to the corner of his lips, indicating her displeasure.

"Thirty-three..." John made his issue known.

"The machine lifeform was approaching you," 33B said stoically. "It's my duty to guard against any such attacks."

"That wasn't an attack. Or at least, I don't think it was."

Now that he thought about it, John couldn't really put aside the possibility. Maybe nothing intentional, but it could result in the same thing. After all, even a hug was liable to make him squirt out his innards like a squeeze bottle. He turned his gaze back to the small machine who was getting back its feet and looking at him somewhat more apprehensively.

"Sorry about that. Why don't you go back to your group?"

The machine lifeform nodded its head and tilted its body forward—probably its version of a bow—before taking off. Only when the machine had gone off far enough did he turn to look at Devola.

"Any other machines scheduled for adjustments today?"

Devola shook her head.

"That's the last one, John. Your afternoon is free." Of course, afternoon was based on their timekeeping rather than anything else since there was never a change in the sun's position or weather.

"Here." Popola stepped forward and gave him an icy drink that had a strong lemon flavor to it.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver, Popola." John gratefully accepted the drink and took a big sip of it. "Ah, that's the stuff!"

Even though he was relaxing in the heated sunlight, there was honestly not too much to do. Anything that he would have normally done or helped out with were things that were better suited for androids with their much more robust and stronger mechanical bodies. Therefore, all that he could do was wait for a response from the Council of Humanity. Unfortunately, so far, the only real response he had gotten was the same generic one that said that they were going to send a representative soon. That "soon" had now been going on for more than three weeks. In that time, he had learned about this world and the circumstances of the androids which was both a lot and not enough.

Their knowledge tended to generally be limited to what pertained to their descent mission and the happenings of their life thereafter. To put it simply, these androids were all manufactured in satellite bases above the planet, trained for a while, and then sent down in various attempts to retake land from the machine lifeforms. In fact, despite their centuries of warfare, they had only really gained ground in the last few years through their invasion and acquisition of Hawaii. Before that, it was just a bunch of failed attempts and pockets of scattered survivors. The Resistance camp itself was just one of those pockets, though it had grown in recent years.

Even Popola and Devola, arguably the oldest androids in this entire camp, couldn't tell me that much. Their memories had been erased as punishment so all they really knew was their initial installed data packets and what they learned after they started wandering on their tireless journey to nowhere. Seriously, they didn't even have an overall destination in mind.

As a matter of fact, John had talked to nearly everyone in the camp at least once in these past few weeks. It wasn't so large of a camp that it was impossible, and he had plenty of time while waiting for the council's response.

That said, he was now acquainted with everyone on some level, enough that—when he took a glance around the courtyard—not all of them were staring blatantly at him anymore. In the first week, some of them practically stalked him from morning to evening. Though again with evening more in the time clock sense rather than actual nighttime.

Now? They had gotten a little bit more used to his presence, though they tended to peek at him often enough to make sure that he didn't suddenly vanish, as if he was an adolescent playing on a playground. Though, in a way, it made sense. He was, after all, far younger than many of the androids in the camp, though he knew for a fact that YoRHa soldiers were younger than he was.

John peeked over at his stoic bodyguard and saw that she was facing forward. Since the blindfold was covering her eyes, he couldn't actually tell if she was peeking at him out of the corner of her vision, but when he saw her flinch at his glance, that pretty much confirmed it. It was not like she was his only bodyguard since there were a number of them keeping their distance and probably even more staying out of sight. That wasn't mentioning the fact that it was likely most—if not all—of the androids in the camp were willing to lay down their lives for him.

Exhaling, John's eyes wandered through the camp, once again marveling at the life exuding out of this place. It was noisy and busy with conversations both loud and whispered flying around like it was downtown Los Angeles. There were vendors hawking their wares, androids moving boxes of supplies, and people lazing about, doing nothing. By nothing, he didn't literally mean nothing, but sitting around a bonfire or leaning back against a wall to pose could not be considered productive at all. The fact that they were checking if he was looking at them only made this all the more clear.

The whole thing was almost surreal because they were machines and really had no reason to do such things. Even Uncle Bob, advanced as he was, didn't make small talk or waste time. However, that same relaxed attitude was what made them seem all the more human.

It was when John was almost finished with his drink that he heard a small commotion coming from the western entrance to the camp.

"Huh. Looks like 9S's group is back." If there was anybody outside of his current entourage that could be said to be the most persistent in talking to him, then that would be 9S. The young android had a bold and inquisitive nature that was a bit refreshing since most of the other androids walked on eggshells around him. Thankfully, there were only a very few androids similar to 9S. If everyone in the camp was like him, then it definitely wouldn't be a joking matter.

The group consisted of a few YoRHa soldiers like 2B—9S's partner—but John had fairly limited interactions with most of them. Since most of the YoRHa units tended to be out on missions, there just wasn't enough time for them to really get used to his presence and get over their shyness. In comparison, the Resistance soldiers had fairly little to do these days since the perimeter maintained by YoRHa had expanded beyond even the Resistance's most forward operating bases and outposts. The only time they really needed to leave the camp was to replace the shifts at the outposts or for supply runs, and that fact had contributed to their far more pronounced laziness these days.

Either that or they were pretending to be so in order to stay around him more.

In any case, while observing the squad, John saw 9S's head swivel left and right in an exaggerated manner. Having dealt with the android's eccentricities for the past few weeks, he simply raised his hand and waved to make it easier for the scanner unit to spot him. The cry of delight from the android confirmed the correctness of his action. However, just as 9S was about to make his way over, 2B grabbed the scruff of the boy's neck and yanked him back into place.

"He's making his case," Devola said, volunteering the information out of consideration for John not being able to hear that far. "2B says the mission report comes first, along with repairs."

"Well, chores should come first," John idly commented as he watched 9S give him a pleading look. That look turned into despair when John simply smiled and shook his head. As if his strings were cut, 9S's body sagged.

2B turned to John, nodded her thanks, and began dragging the smaller android away. However, she suddenly stopped when she looked and looked up. Releasing 9S, her hand went down to the hilt of her sword as her entire body tensed up.

Following her gaze, John looked up to see a black dot in the sky. However, that dot was getting larger at a fast pace, enough to make him stand up from his seat. Something big was coming. Noticing his alarm, the androids around him quickly found the cause and went into action.

"John!" Devola touched his shoulder.

"We have to go!" Popola tugged at John's arm.

"There's no need," 33B said as if stating a fact. "Because they won't reach the camp."

As if on cue, several dozen flight units that he didn't know about scrambled into the air from all around the camp like agitated bees coming out of a hive. Adjusting their flight paths, the squadrons made wide turns to head into the direction of the unknown aircraft. Their thrusters flared, boosting them forward through the air.

Did he really have that many hidden bodyguards…?

John's fist unconsciously clenched as the flight units became tiny dots in the sky which stood at a stark contrast to the massive aircraft that was slowly getting closer. Just when it seemed like a firefight would happen, the flight units broke off from their paths. Like fireflies, they encircled the aircraft but made no move to engage it in combat.

"W-what…?" Popola looked unsure. "Why are they…"

"Stand down!" The loud shout drew everyone's attention to Anemone as she strode into the courtyard with several Resistance soldiers following half a step behind her. She stopped at the center of the courtyard and spoke loudly, "We received the IFF. They're friendly."

"Friendly?" One of the shopkeepers, a rough-looking man whose table held a mounted chaingun that was almost as big as him, snorted in amusement. "You sure about that, Anemone? I don't know any friends that have that kind of airship."

"That's because they're from the council."

"Huh?!" The shopkeeper straightened up, and he wasn't the only one.

"How do you think they weren't shot down by the machines by now? That ship has the most advanced stealth technology that the Army of Humanity has ever made."

While everyone was stuck in their own variation of shock, Anemone walked over to John, leaving her entourage behind.

"It's good to see you're alright," Anemone said. "I was worried that you might have been injured in the panic."

"I've seen far less orderly panics. Even if it was, I know how to handle myself." This was nothing like the panic riots and stampedes when the Red Eyes approached a city.

"I'm glad to hear it."

Is it really them?" John asked hopefully.

"I confirmed it myself," Anemone simply answered.

They were finally here.

Honestly, John didn't really have a good opinion about the council. To say nothing of Popola and Devola's punishment, there weren't many androids in the Resistance camp who viewed them positively. Even Anemone had suffered from their actions. Though she had been reluctant, she did tell him that she had originally been part of an ill-advised descent mission to Oahu Island in Hawaii that ultimately failed centuries ago. With no means of communication with Headquarters, her group had to survive on their own with their numbers slowly whittling down over the course of two hundred years…

The fact that Anemone didn't have more resentment was probably the most surprising part to him.

Still, the things that John had heard were just one side of the coin. It was best to look at things with the full picture before making a snap judgment. Though, that wasn't the only thing he was looking forward to; he was eager to finally be able to speak to another human being. Not that androids were bad company or anything, but he wanted to see what the descendants of humanity were like after almost ten thousand years. It was an insane amount of time so it was hard to imagine how things were like now, though they probably wouldn't look too different. Since androids were made in the image of humanity, their appearances should probably still be similar enough. Otherwise, wouldn't they change the androids to look more like them?

That was not the only thing he was looking forward to. If possible, he hoped that they would grant him access to the blueprints and schematics of the androids so he could find them out without having to mess around inside them too much. Call it a professional curiosity, but he could perhaps learn enough to do some actual repairs on the androids. Maybe even be like a field medic or something for them. It was the least that he could do for them, especially since they were risking their lives for humanity.

As his mind began to compile a list of things he would like access to, John silently watched as the large aircraft came closer, escorted by the YoRHa flight units. Even from this distance, he could estimate the size by comparing it to the flight units, and he found that the airship was as big as four Nimtz-class carriers put together. It eventually flew over the Resistance camp, slowing its acceleration to hover in place above. From a hangar bay that opened up on its port side, a small transport shuttle flew out of it and began its descent.

Excitement filled the entire camp as the androids quickly vacated the center of the courtyard to allow space for the shuttle to land.

John stepped past 33B just as the shuttle landed in the midst of the courtyard, shrouded in the cloud of dust that rose from its downward pointing thrusters. The shuttle doors slid open with a soft hiss. The first to appear in the doorway was a woman who he had almost mistaken for Commander White, but he had talked to her just a few hours ago so it was impossible for her to somehow arrive on an airship. The other thing that clued him in was her state of dress. Rather than the form-fitting white dress that Commander White was always wearing, this woman was wearing a military uniform that was reminiscent of Imperial Germany from the first World War.

Her eyes searched the area just before she leaped off and dropped down the last few feet to the ground even before the shuttle fully landed. Once her eyes locked onto his, the stern countenance on her face began to slightly relax. She began making her way over even as the shuttle finally landed and several androids disembarked, rushing to follow in her wake.

There was a young girl wearing an old-school Admiral outfit with a short skirt, a grizzled woman with frizzy hair wearing a doctor's coat, a ridiculously picturesque blond man in an old Russian-style military uniform, a lithe man in elaborate robes that trailed along his feet, and others in their own unique style of dress. In the end, there were a total of seven women and five men who made their way over with the White lookalike leading the way.

While John knew that there were androids with the same appearance because of the existence of their model line, actually seeing it in person was more than enough to stun him into silence. However, having talked to White almost every day for the past month, he noticed the differences with this copycat from the way she held herself up to how she walked. Even the expression on her face, a sort of tempered awe, was something that was subtly different from what would appear on White's face. In other words, it felt more like looking at her twin sister than her clone, and that fascinated him right up to the moment when she came to a stop before him and gave off a sharp salute.

"I am Director Crin of the Lilium Special Forces and standing behind me are the other leaders from the Army of Humanity." While she held her composure, the same couldn't be said of the people behind her who stared in shock and awe, though some of them managed to fire off their own salute. Not that Crin was paying attention to them at all.

"I'm John Connor, though I think you all already knew that, right?"

"Yes, sir. My apologies for our late arrival. We were held up in the Pacific theater."

"Don't worry about it," John replied, even as his eyes made out the details on their outfits. What he noticed was that none of them were giving respect to another in a way similar to how they were acting with him. "Right, it's nice to meet you all, but are there any more passengers? I believe they were going to send a human representative."

If they were all smiles before, it was now frayed with some of them having shifty looks and sagged shoulders.

"That...is something that should be discussed in private," Crin said as she turned to look at Anemone. "Is there a suitable place for that here?"

Anemone wordlessly nodded.

"Good." Crin turned her sight back to John, though for a moment, her eyes briefly flickered to the twins with barely concealed distaste. "Though I'm afraid that this information is for your ears only.

John could hear the twins flinching and taking a step back, though he couldn't see it since they were standing behind him. He could easily guess that they probably had hurt expressions right about now, and that was something that didn't sit right with him.

"I would prefer if they came with me. In fact, I insist on it," John said in a firm tone, surprising her. "They saved my life."

"I have read White's report. However, they were the ones who put you in danger in the first place."

"Unknowingly."

"They should have known," Crin said mercilessly. "They are simply repeating the follies of the past, as expected of defective models. Maybe this seems harsh, and I apologize for that, but you don't know what they did."

"You mean the reason for their memories were toyed with, right?" John interjected. "I've been told."

A sharpness flickered in her eyes.

"Then why—"

"Because they shouldn't have been blamed for something that another pair of twins did."

"But they are from the same model line," Crin said firmly as if that piece of information would settle the matter.

"That doesn't change anything. They are still different people," he countered.

"That is illogical. While they may be different androids, their core foundations are the same."

"They might share the same looks, but they're not duplicates of each other."

Crin looked at John, bewildered.

"I don't understand the distinction. If a flaw is found on one vehicle, the entire lot would be recalled because such a flaw would present in the entire production batch. So too would it be necessary to end production lines of androids where fatal flaws are discovered."

John glanced at the twins to see them looking down at their feet.

"Crin, you seem to be mistaken about something." John looked into her eyes. "You think that just because you were mass produced in batches means your performance reflects on the entire group, am I right?"

Crin warily nodded.

"That's the wrong way to think of it. You androids were made in humanity's image because we wanted companions. While you all might have come out of the box with the same appearance and factory settings, you were designed to learn, develop, and change over time. Each experience brings you a step forward, and no other android—batchmate or not—can follow exactly in your footsteps. You are you, and these twins—"

John pointed at Devola and Popola.

"—are not those twins."

The leader of Lilium looked genuinely startled at his words.

"I-I see..."

Crin eyes turned downward for a couple of moments. However, she quickly shook her head and refocused her sight on him. Just when she was able to say more, a meaty hand landed on her shoulder. The owner of said hand was the blond man in the Imperial Russian uniform.

"Director, it's best if we move this discussion to a more private setting. It should be fine to bring the former administrators along as well." The blond man raised his head and gave John a gentle smile. "Is that fine with you, sir?"

John nodded.

~o~

During the time that John had been in the camp, they didn't know how long it would take for the Council of Humanity to actually arrive, and moving him was way too much of a risk. With the prevalence of the machines, traveling on terra firma had never been easy for the androids, and it didn't take any stretch of the imagination to think of how much more dangerous it would be for actual human beings. As such, it was safer for him to stay in one place. However, if the location wasn't defensible, then there wouldn't be a point. For this very reason, construction of defensive structures commenced the moment it seemed likely that he would be staying on-site for an extended period of time.

One of these structures was an underground bunker. While that name brought up the image of a subterranean labyrinth, it was actually just three rooms connected by a short hallway at a depth of thirty feet. This was due to both time and material constraints. Since the only real safe zone on Earth was Hawaii, large-scale mining operations were only conducted there. Everywhere else relied mostly on scavenging and recycling the scrap metals and materials from destroyed machine lifeforms. That limited the scope and range of their construction, though more had been spared for his safety. The result of that was an underground bunker that was heavily reinforced, enough that it would require a significant amount of firepower to breach.

Inside the bunker, the conference room was large but had no decorations or furnishing besides a long, rectangular table with one seat at each end and multiple chairs on the sides.

John was seated at the head of the table with Popola standing on his right and Devola on his left. Seated, six per side, were the twelve who had arrived on the shuttle with the closest two seats belonging to Director Crin and the blond man in the Imperial Russian uniform.

The Russian android had actually said his name was Craspedia. In fact, they had all introduced themselves in a rather lengthy segment, but the odd names like Tegeirian and Orchid were harder to remember. However, he had already resolved to remember the names of those who fought for humanity so, with grit and effort, he managed to memorize most of them. For the ones he forgot, he would just have to ask the twins later.

Still, from their introduction, John got a gist of their jobs. They were either the overseer of this or the leader of that or the head of something or another. It was honestly a mess of titles where he wasn't even sure if there was a hierarchy. What he did know was that these people were significant figures in the Army of Humanity. However, that was just the thing. None of their positions seemed to be related to the council.

John noted that, while he was preoccupied with his own thoughts, many of them were still looking at Crin expectantly as if expecting her to lead, but said android was lost in thought.

"So," John began. "Shall we get started?"

There was a chorus of assents, enough to make him question why he had somehow been unofficially nominated to lead the meeting in the first place.

"If you don't mind me asking, is the representative from the council coming later? I wasn't expecting so many military leaders and lead researchers to be here instead."

The androids looked at each other with more solemn expressions, though many of them turned to Director Crin.

"Director?"

Crin took a moment to gather herself before raising her head to look directly at him.

"I… We want you to know that this isn't something that can be said lightly," she began. "There will be no representative coming."

John raised an eyebrow.

"Why is that?"

"It's because we are the Council of Humanity."

If there was anything that John was expecting, this wasn't it.

"The Council of Humanity wasn't something that we created, but we each took a position in it because it is necessary. Without the council, the Army of Humanity would have fallen apart," Crin began. "Even telling you this was something that we had argued long and hard about. The debate was so long and contentious that it took weeks, but we finally concluded that you deserved to know the truth. Not just about the council, but everything."

"Debate?"

"Some of us felt that you should be protected from the truth."

"I don't think I quite understand what you're saying." John glanced toward the different council members, but many of them couldn't meet his gaze. "What is this 'truth' that you're talking about?"

"I'm not sure how to say this…"

"Then just say it."

"The… The sum total of humanity…"

Crin took a short, shallow breath.

"…is just you."

In that moment, there were many thoughts that had crossed his mind, but they could all be combined together into one thought.

"What…?"

"I'm sorry!" Crin bowed her head.

Nobody spoke as a tensed silence descended upon the room. None of the androids could face him and fidgeted in place. Glancing to his sides, he saw Devola and Popola standing statue still, their expressions twisted in shock. However, the one with the most chaotic thoughts was John himself.

"…w-what about the moon base?"

"It contains our entire collective knowledge database on humanity." Crin slowly raised her head. "But there are no humans living there. Only pods and a single android."

"But the broadcasts…"

"Fake digital imagery and voice synthesis," Crin explained softly. For John, that made it sound worse.

He saw her staring at him with a pleading look.

"I'm sorry, John."

He could hear his heart beating in his ears.

"But you are all that is left of our creators."

Every single sound felt like it was being drowned out. Even the twins' gasps barely registered with him, leaving only a high-pitched, almost whistling noise in his ears. He took in a shuddering breath and looked at the androids almost in a pleading manner, but none of them could meet his eyes.

"H-how?"

The whisper could be barely heard from him, but no, that wasn't it. What he really wanted to know was…

"Why?"

"Androids cannot exist without their creators," the strawberry-haired android called Tegeirian answered in a regretful tone.

"That's not what I'm asking!" John slammed the bottom of his fist onto the table, causing the sound to resound through the room. He took quick and shallow breaths, desperately calming himself. "…why? No, when did humanity die out?"

"Shortly after the twin administrators signed their death warrant," Craspedia softly said. "Eight thousand years ago."

"That long?" John's mind swirled. "You kept up the lie for that long?"

"What good are mankind's creations by themselves? Bereft of our purpose, many of us will simply turn to self termination and permanent deactivation. We had to act."

He felt a sudden anger burning through him.

"Why are you telling me this now?!" John stared furiously at them.

Only Crin dared to face his fury while the others seemed to lean back in their chair as if trying to escape his anger.

"It's because we don't know what to do anymore," Crin offered as she looked away from his gaze and down at the table. "We have done everything—given everything—but we, your creations, have failed you at every step."

John was taken aback by the sadness and stress in her voice, giving pause to his anger.

"We thought that failure and death were our fate. Perhaps dying so ignobly was our punishment, but like a true miracle, here you are."

The director raised her head to stare at John again, pain and hope visible on her face.

"You are not only the last of humanity, but the one who truly began us. What do you want us to do? What should we do? How do we win this war? Can we win this war? Do you want us to win this war? Please, tell us what we should do."

The tears that dropped onto the table extinguished the burning fury in his heart, and a shame began to fill him. The androids in the room looked broken, exhausted.

From them, John realized that his existence here must have been an impossibility, a second chance. That was when he remembered, and the realization suddenly slammed into him like a freight train.

He was the last human on Earth.

The.

Last.

Human.

He was the last of his kind.

The androids were all looking at him expectantly as if he held all answers they needed.

Air.

He needed air.

John abruptly stood up and saw the twelve leaders flinch back and actually cowered away from him. He ignored them as he rushed out of the room and down the hallway. His run only ended when he saw the sky and felt the sun beating down on him. Fresh air invaded his burning lungs, but it felt stagnant all the same.

"John?!" It was Devola's caring tone that came from the encroaching darkness.

Did she follow him out? He felt another set of hands on his back.

"John?" This time it was Popola, but he couldn't comprehend anything else that she was saying. It all combined into a cacophony of noise, eldritch and incomprehensible. Only one thing was on his mind.

He was the last one left.

He was…

He…

John realized the full weight of everything that was told to him and dropped to his knees.

"Devola, his heartbeat!"

"John? John!"

John felt the touches on his body and heard his name being called, but it was all too much for him to handle. So he did the only thing any human being could have done in his place.

He emptied out his stomach.

"John!"

~o~

Authors' Note:

Icura:

This story is now going to be coauthored with Vahn!

If you want to support me, please consider donating to my Ko-fi. I would really appreciate it. This Ko-fi is now for both me and Vahn.

So, long rant incoming. You can skip it. In fact, I recommend you skip it since it is just me letting out my frustration.

This iteration of the chapter is very much different from what I first wanted to make it. I had originally envisioned it as a transitional chapter, a cool-down chapter if you will. Necessary, but with less adrenaline than the chapters beforehand since it is kind of like after a climax. However, it has shown me one of my true weaknesses which is…

Less exciting chapters.

I can't believe this is even a weakness, but apparently, if it isn't exciting enough, my head blanks out. I will be just writing and in the middle, my head would blank out. However, I had to do it because this story was made for me to overcome my weaknesses and write consistently. The result of that was…

I failed. I utterly failed. I spent so much time, but I failed. Completely and spectacularly failed. Most ridiculous weakness, but I failed. That happened so many times that for the first part of the chapter, I think I have about 30k words of deleted scenes because I would just blank out in the middle of writing. I even resolved myself to write garbage and maybe fix it up later because my garbage should still smell pretty good, but even then, I would eventually enter a meditative state as if I was trying to achieve spiritual enlightenment and reach nirvana. That was how blank my head became, and the only reason I can think of for this was because this segment didn't have enough excitement in it. Seriously? Why can't I write filler? Why, why, why?!

Ahem…

Therefore, in order to not prolong my suffering—more than a month is long enough—I begged Vahn to coauthor it with me.

So now, Vahn is my coauthor for the rest of this story, and this chapter came out differently than I first envisioned (more important scenes).

Thanks for sticking around. Hopefully, now with Vahn onboard, it won't take as long.

Vahnhammer:

Well, as stated above I'm back on this story directly and there was no begging involved on Icura part, he lies like a hobbits, as Gollum would say.

I wanted in on this project from the get-go but work schedule did not permit.

It does now.

So the way I approach this story is like a trilogy. You have the first movie/event/ Intro from 1-10. This next arc /second movie, will be titled Rise of the Machine with the third called Judgement Day. One of the thing that I like to do is hammer out the story in advance and work on it and I can say that with the Neir Anime coming, I was very motivated to hammer out this story.

So Rise of the Machine is completely hammer out. We just need time to write it. Judgment Day will get clearer the closer we get to it though there is a rough idea on what needs to be done. I don't feel that that is spoiler to know that a story has a beginning middle and end.

I specifically asked Icura to number it the way it is because I feel that the readers get lost as the chapters get higher in numbered and they forget their place on where it was they left off at.

So that, that's! Hope you guys enjoy the ride!