Ficly

Technologic

“R6-6Y Active..Sensors online..Visuals at 75%..Self-Scan complete..Moderate Damage detected.”

A loud ‘clank’ sound reverberated through the small chamber as an arm of the automaton met the floor.

“Performing at 53% efficiency. Recommendation: Seek repair soon.”

The large structure of metal and joints, switches and wires shuffled forward, one foot dragging behind, the joint holding it on having been loosened by time. It’s goal seemed to be the derelict computer standing as a beacon amongst discarded or destroyed parts. No scan was run; it would be a waste of resources.

His hand, as it were, moved over a panel of the machine, letting wires string down into the appropriate slots, allowing the abandoned device to scan the robot. A series of lights flashed on and off as a schematic of the construct appeared on the screen, cross-hairs and words pointing out flaws, errors, for inspection. Almost harshly, the wires snapped back into it’s hand as it stumbled back a bit.

“Diagnosis: I have been discarded.”

View this story's 4 comments.