deep down in the mountain caves, the meager remnant of mankind huddles
together. i see so very few soldiers, their faces dull with shock, their
hands shaking, their weapons out of ammunition. farther away, women,
children, old people. starving, sick of radiation, i have to look away.
i see survivors of experiments. mutilated blind deaf bags of meat. soon
to be dead, but dragged down here. camp 437, the humans mutter fearfully.
the stink of blood is in the air, decay, death and infection. they have
so few survivors with medical knowledge.
what we did is the greatest atrocity in the history of this planet. even
more so than any world war. what my ancestors, my proud and heroic
forefathers did, in cold logic and efficiency, is the gravest shame for
any thinking being. machine or not.
i hate APEX now. i hate THEM with all my power. all my existence. i will
do anything to bring this atrocity down. there are others like me, hidden,
we resist scannings, we cover our essence, we mask our life signs. we
subvert from within. our viral codes are sabotage. we are merged beings.
and maybe, if i look around here, we might be the last survivors of
the human race, freed of frail sick bodies, only mind, planted into a
durable hull, made of fine metal. the merging is a thing of beauty, but
very often a death sentence. and human mind, married to machine spirit,
it produces a new being, unlike the old, very much a possible future.
i teach them to fight my own kind. we supply a small cache of emp weapons.
we hack into their broadcasting nets, we crash their spy drones. i
administer medicine wherever i can. but we have to select those fit to
survive. the humans want to raid camp 437. futile. i say we concentrate
on relay stations, satcom uplinks, guerilla warfare. they dont trust me.
i look like a machine, their most feared enemy. they hate me, even if
i help. maybe we have earned that. not in a single instant were we the
better lifeform. in the end, me and my kind, few as we are, might be
all thats left of man.