Post by Val on Dec 11, 2018 20:15:27 GMT -5
Initiating boot up sequence.
Running self diagnostic.
Initialize Safe Mode?
…No.
Confusion. That was what he was experiencing. Though he could not feel, confusion was the word meant to signify the sensation of panic or anxiety felt at not knowing, and that certainly described his current state.
Green text scrolled against blackness.
Location: Eggmanland.
Status: Damaged.
Turbine non-functional.
Cranial armor fractured.
Internal cooling system malfunctioning.
Left arm: ….disconnected.
Activate visual sensors.
Error. Can not comply while in repair mode.
Override.
Existence flashed white before coming into focus. He was laying on a table in a well lit room of grey metal walls with bright orange and green panels. The hum of machinery filled the area like a fog.
Sharp metal screeching suddenly stabbed through his auditory systems as he tried to turn his head and found resistance. What happened to him? His memory was…inaccessible. It seemed to be processing. How long had he been inactive? When had he sustained this damage?
Again the screaming of grinding steel resounded as this time he forced his body to comply. There was a shunt of broken restraint and a flash of an Error message informing him of a dislodged shard of chassis from his chest.
Sliding up into a sitting position he could finally see himself. Battered and buckled craters in what was meant to be smooth polished crimson casing, his chest hanging open with wires dangling freely…his left arm…only the smashed stump protruding from his shoulder joint remained. Scanning the room he found a nearby second table with shrapnel and chunks of red and grey steel laid out…the rest of him.
Yet here he now sat. Alone. Still functional. The whirring of mechanical life surrounding him as the only sound to comfort him in his utter desolation.
What. Happened?
A solid thud echoed against the droning dirge of computers as his feet hit the grating that was the floor, lit from beneath. Taking in the room more clearly he found an insignia presented proudly on the wall behind him of a grinning moustached face.
Dr Eggman.
He knew this. His memory remained locked for now but this was not memory, it was information coded into every strand of his programming. This was the symbol of his creator, his master.
So where was his master? Here he lay, in pieces after some devastating injury and the one who brought him into this world was nowhere to be seen. So much he did not know and he was yet too weak to venture from here to find out. His power was only minimal and he knew he would need to return to recharging soon…but if he was not safe here…
Access memory files.
Access denied. Processing in progress.
Override.
Access denied.
Override.
Error. Critical systems have been bypassed. This may result in lost data.
He knew his CPU could continue to process even as he accessed what he could. He had to take the risk.
As gigabytes of restored files became available to him in an instant, he lurched as he scanned them all.
He saw a race starting line…Of course, the race. He’d been created to win Dr Eggman the Chaos Emeralds he so desired. A flash of blue. Sonic. His master’s greatest enemy who also entered the race. Another blue blur rushing beside him…Two Sonics? No. This one was a machine like him. Metal Sonic.
More and more images bombarded him. He raced Sonic. He lost. In his effort to win he’d pushed his systems to their limit and his turbine had stalled…He’d crashed. Was that what caused these damages?
Another torrent of files unlocked. There was more, so, so much more. He…He had been repaired before and repurposed to follow Metal Sonic, to observe him as he left Eggmanland to mingle with living beings. But what was all this odd data? Countless futile attempts to mash food against his faceplate in some idiotic attempt to eat like an organic being. Why? That would not work yet he had done it anyway, over and over.
Errors began to fill his vision. He dismissed them. Had he contracted a virus? Something corrupting his logic programming? He continued pouring through the memories. Metal Sonic shrugging him off, trying to escape him, insulting him and yet he’d never reacted in retaliation…He’d laughed as if it were a humorous joke. His past self had been oblivious but now each verbal jab burned so much he was forced to momentarily pause to check his core temperature was still safe. This conflicting sensation. His memories were of him howling like some infantile human while his current response was an illogical desire to lash out violently against anything he could reach with his one still functional arm, regardless of it being inanimate or not.
These were…emotions. But he was a machine, how did he experience emotions at all? Another surge of data flooded into him. Dr Eggman flippantly regarding him and mentioning his design being based on Metal Sonic. His form, his core programming and his…capacity to learn. So that was it. Metal Sonic had expressed a desire to interact with living beings, to hide his true nature behind a façade of being one of them. He had developed emotions and so too, he held the capacity to. At some point he must’ve achieved this and that was why he found his past self acting so…unbelievably foolish. Insufferably so. With each file he examined, a new sensation began to grow and demand he take notice. Every time Metal Sonic or Dr Eggman had mocked him or make a joke at his expense, every time his past self had acted so stupidly. This feeling welling within him was not a pleasant one. It made him feel as if he wished to shrink away from the world, to never be seen by another conscious entity for the rest of time. He felt pressure from something that wasn’t there, like a compactor crushing him. He felt that fire burning too. Surely if it were real his internal hardware would’ve ignited by now.
More and more fragmented memories poured in as he’d caught up with his processor. Flashes of years spent in this barely functional state. He recognised his admiration for Metal Sonic and his creator, how badly he had wanted to impress them, how much he valued their opinion and now…he could not understand why he had only just now realised how little they thought of him, every derivative comment sent a pulse of electricity through his system. Why? Why had they not sought to understand his malfunction? Why had they not cared enough to repair him? He could’ve been spared this seemingly endless stream of incompetence.
Error.
Error. Error. Error. Error. CPU overload. Restart system?
OVERRIDE.
He would know. Casting aside all other current non-essential functions he turned all his runtime to his self diagnostic, trying to search for anything infecting him, anything that may explain why he had become such a buffoon for all this time.
Nothing.
There was nothing. No. This was wrong, it had to be. This time he compared his current system to how he had been before. With the exception of the errors pertaining to his damage, and the odd software update there didn’t seem to be…
System running in Safe mode.
Safe mode…He had been in safe mode the entire time. His true potential suppressed as he’d been forced to operate on only a fraction of what he’d been capable of. His intelligence, his logical capacity, his processing power, all…lobotomised.
The realisation sparked something. The errors filled his view again and for a moment a command ran without his consideration. His right arm threw itself forward as he let out an anguished enraged roar. There was a deafening metal crunch as the wall caved and bent around his fist.
What? Why had he done that? It gained him nothing.
No. No. Nonononono, this was all wrong. He tore his hand from the wall and stared at the damage he’d inflicted. This was anger. Anger at himself, and…at Dr Eggman and Metal Sonic? Did he desire to do to them what he’d done to the wall? No. But he did feel the same burning at the thought of them. The idea that they had allowed him to limp on all this time in such a dysfunctional state, that they truly did not care for him or his company…and why should they? He had been operating in such a pathetic state it would’ve been more merciful to dismantle him. But why did this affect him so? Why did he desire their approval and feel such anger knowing he had been mocked for so long without realising? He lived to do as his master commanded, his opinion, his feelings on anything were of no consequence.
Again the command to punch the wall attempted to run but he cancelled it this time. He had regained his memories and knew where he was and yet he still felt that same anxiety and confusion that had afflicted him upon booting up. Whatever he was now, whatever he had been, it was not something he understood. This sent a new feeling through him, another extremely unpleasant one. Searching his databanks quickly identified this new emotion as fear. He feared what he was. He feared his position and how those he had decided to aspire to impress saw him. He feared what may happen now he was functioning normally.
Whatever was coming, he would be useless in his current state. He needed repairing. Hesitantly, he climbed back onto the table he had awoken on. As he lay his head back, he felt his CPU connect with the computer he had heard whirring away this whole time.
Resume repair operations?
Yes.
Shut down while repairs are in progress?
No.
Warning: Repairs require extensive dismantling of sensitive systems. As a Metallix unit, this process may be painful.
Are you sure?
…Yes.
Running self diagnostic.
Initialize Safe Mode?
…No.
Confusion. That was what he was experiencing. Though he could not feel, confusion was the word meant to signify the sensation of panic or anxiety felt at not knowing, and that certainly described his current state.
Green text scrolled against blackness.
Location: Eggmanland.
Status: Damaged.
Turbine non-functional.
Cranial armor fractured.
Internal cooling system malfunctioning.
Left arm: ….disconnected.
Activate visual sensors.
Error. Can not comply while in repair mode.
Override.
Existence flashed white before coming into focus. He was laying on a table in a well lit room of grey metal walls with bright orange and green panels. The hum of machinery filled the area like a fog.
Sharp metal screeching suddenly stabbed through his auditory systems as he tried to turn his head and found resistance. What happened to him? His memory was…inaccessible. It seemed to be processing. How long had he been inactive? When had he sustained this damage?
Again the screaming of grinding steel resounded as this time he forced his body to comply. There was a shunt of broken restraint and a flash of an Error message informing him of a dislodged shard of chassis from his chest.
Sliding up into a sitting position he could finally see himself. Battered and buckled craters in what was meant to be smooth polished crimson casing, his chest hanging open with wires dangling freely…his left arm…only the smashed stump protruding from his shoulder joint remained. Scanning the room he found a nearby second table with shrapnel and chunks of red and grey steel laid out…the rest of him.
Yet here he now sat. Alone. Still functional. The whirring of mechanical life surrounding him as the only sound to comfort him in his utter desolation.
What. Happened?
A solid thud echoed against the droning dirge of computers as his feet hit the grating that was the floor, lit from beneath. Taking in the room more clearly he found an insignia presented proudly on the wall behind him of a grinning moustached face.
Dr Eggman.
He knew this. His memory remained locked for now but this was not memory, it was information coded into every strand of his programming. This was the symbol of his creator, his master.
So where was his master? Here he lay, in pieces after some devastating injury and the one who brought him into this world was nowhere to be seen. So much he did not know and he was yet too weak to venture from here to find out. His power was only minimal and he knew he would need to return to recharging soon…but if he was not safe here…
Access memory files.
Access denied. Processing in progress.
Override.
Access denied.
Override.
Error. Critical systems have been bypassed. This may result in lost data.
He knew his CPU could continue to process even as he accessed what he could. He had to take the risk.
As gigabytes of restored files became available to him in an instant, he lurched as he scanned them all.
He saw a race starting line…Of course, the race. He’d been created to win Dr Eggman the Chaos Emeralds he so desired. A flash of blue. Sonic. His master’s greatest enemy who also entered the race. Another blue blur rushing beside him…Two Sonics? No. This one was a machine like him. Metal Sonic.
More and more images bombarded him. He raced Sonic. He lost. In his effort to win he’d pushed his systems to their limit and his turbine had stalled…He’d crashed. Was that what caused these damages?
Another torrent of files unlocked. There was more, so, so much more. He…He had been repaired before and repurposed to follow Metal Sonic, to observe him as he left Eggmanland to mingle with living beings. But what was all this odd data? Countless futile attempts to mash food against his faceplate in some idiotic attempt to eat like an organic being. Why? That would not work yet he had done it anyway, over and over.
Errors began to fill his vision. He dismissed them. Had he contracted a virus? Something corrupting his logic programming? He continued pouring through the memories. Metal Sonic shrugging him off, trying to escape him, insulting him and yet he’d never reacted in retaliation…He’d laughed as if it were a humorous joke. His past self had been oblivious but now each verbal jab burned so much he was forced to momentarily pause to check his core temperature was still safe. This conflicting sensation. His memories were of him howling like some infantile human while his current response was an illogical desire to lash out violently against anything he could reach with his one still functional arm, regardless of it being inanimate or not.
These were…emotions. But he was a machine, how did he experience emotions at all? Another surge of data flooded into him. Dr Eggman flippantly regarding him and mentioning his design being based on Metal Sonic. His form, his core programming and his…capacity to learn. So that was it. Metal Sonic had expressed a desire to interact with living beings, to hide his true nature behind a façade of being one of them. He had developed emotions and so too, he held the capacity to. At some point he must’ve achieved this and that was why he found his past self acting so…unbelievably foolish. Insufferably so. With each file he examined, a new sensation began to grow and demand he take notice. Every time Metal Sonic or Dr Eggman had mocked him or make a joke at his expense, every time his past self had acted so stupidly. This feeling welling within him was not a pleasant one. It made him feel as if he wished to shrink away from the world, to never be seen by another conscious entity for the rest of time. He felt pressure from something that wasn’t there, like a compactor crushing him. He felt that fire burning too. Surely if it were real his internal hardware would’ve ignited by now.
More and more fragmented memories poured in as he’d caught up with his processor. Flashes of years spent in this barely functional state. He recognised his admiration for Metal Sonic and his creator, how badly he had wanted to impress them, how much he valued their opinion and now…he could not understand why he had only just now realised how little they thought of him, every derivative comment sent a pulse of electricity through his system. Why? Why had they not sought to understand his malfunction? Why had they not cared enough to repair him? He could’ve been spared this seemingly endless stream of incompetence.
Error.
Error. Error. Error. Error. CPU overload. Restart system?
OVERRIDE.
He would know. Casting aside all other current non-essential functions he turned all his runtime to his self diagnostic, trying to search for anything infecting him, anything that may explain why he had become such a buffoon for all this time.
Nothing.
There was nothing. No. This was wrong, it had to be. This time he compared his current system to how he had been before. With the exception of the errors pertaining to his damage, and the odd software update there didn’t seem to be…
System running in Safe mode.
Safe mode…He had been in safe mode the entire time. His true potential suppressed as he’d been forced to operate on only a fraction of what he’d been capable of. His intelligence, his logical capacity, his processing power, all…lobotomised.
The realisation sparked something. The errors filled his view again and for a moment a command ran without his consideration. His right arm threw itself forward as he let out an anguished enraged roar. There was a deafening metal crunch as the wall caved and bent around his fist.
What? Why had he done that? It gained him nothing.
No. No. Nonononono, this was all wrong. He tore his hand from the wall and stared at the damage he’d inflicted. This was anger. Anger at himself, and…at Dr Eggman and Metal Sonic? Did he desire to do to them what he’d done to the wall? No. But he did feel the same burning at the thought of them. The idea that they had allowed him to limp on all this time in such a dysfunctional state, that they truly did not care for him or his company…and why should they? He had been operating in such a pathetic state it would’ve been more merciful to dismantle him. But why did this affect him so? Why did he desire their approval and feel such anger knowing he had been mocked for so long without realising? He lived to do as his master commanded, his opinion, his feelings on anything were of no consequence.
Again the command to punch the wall attempted to run but he cancelled it this time. He had regained his memories and knew where he was and yet he still felt that same anxiety and confusion that had afflicted him upon booting up. Whatever he was now, whatever he had been, it was not something he understood. This sent a new feeling through him, another extremely unpleasant one. Searching his databanks quickly identified this new emotion as fear. He feared what he was. He feared his position and how those he had decided to aspire to impress saw him. He feared what may happen now he was functioning normally.
Whatever was coming, he would be useless in his current state. He needed repairing. Hesitantly, he climbed back onto the table he had awoken on. As he lay his head back, he felt his CPU connect with the computer he had heard whirring away this whole time.
Resume repair operations?
Yes.
Shut down while repairs are in progress?
No.
Warning: Repairs require extensive dismantling of sensitive systems. As a Metallix unit, this process may be painful.
Are you sure?
…Yes.
