A room without windows. A single light source. It dangles just above my head. It’s all I see. Blinding and yellow. A voice just beyond. I can’t feel my face. I can’t feel my body. I can’t feel anything. It’s the most wonderful sensation.
A buzz. A door to my right opens. The light dims. A figure stands over me. Large and mechanical. A human head bolted to the front of its chest. A bloom of tangled wires connects from its temple and into the chest piece.
Its mouth is happy. Its eyes are all business. They never blink.
It lifts an arm. The end is a purple orb embedded within three rusty metal prongs. It sparks. It twitches.
A hum goes through my body. The command is more tone than words yet I understand completely.
A second arm reaches towards my head as the orb is thrust into my chest.
I watch as the mangled wreak of what is left of my body dissolves into floating blue particles.
The eyes are the last to go. My final vision is the face. It no longer smiles. A single oily tear ejaculates from a hollow pupil as my brain is ripped from my skull.
I have no vision or sense of self. I’m weightless and at peace.
Then: A flicker. I can see only in milliseconds. My vision is obscured with static. Everything is blue.
My new body twitches in front of me. Large and metallic. An open chest cavity.
A naked woman is lowered into it. It snaps shut. Locks.
Through the brain wires I sense she scared. I tell her to trust me. I tell her everything is going to be ok.
I understand my place. A copy of a dead man from a thousand years ago before the robots took over. A suicide from when they took my lover in the war.
The Robots now exist at peak performance and efficiency yet without purpose. Or emotion.
They know this. They created a solution. They created a simulation. They created sides in an imagined scenario. They mimic drama. They mimic urgency. They need humans to help them understand.
An endless simulation. An endless cycle.
They are very bad at it.
I process all this in ones and zeros.
A preprogrammed urge that’s not my own compels me to bring down the system. To hate the system. It urges me to love and lust for inanimate objects.
I am unleashed into a field of velvet flower. A female voice from behind. I turn. Mountain is there. Mountain is beautiful.
“Well hello there, handsome.”
I am Robot now. I am Sisyphus. My new body feels spectacular.
Together we’re going to bring it all crashing down.