What’s this? Starting another project before others are finished? Yip. That’s how I work.
Anyway, here’s the “The Fire of Prometheus” novella that was published within the World Inside guide that came along with the DOD 10th Anniversary Box. There are 7 segments to this story, so I will continue to update this post when I finish another segment.
Since this is a work in progress, there may be more tweeks and edits in the future. Please stay tuned for future updates!
The Fire of Prometheus
Written by Yoko Taro
A tiny flame
in my mind.
Start confirmation sequence.
Connection to camera failed.
Motor function array……unresponsive.
Memory storage device error.
It seems as though all but my thought processor has been destroyed.
Accessing communications record from the self-repair mechanism.
Continuing diagnostics on structural integrity.
It sounds nice to call this system the “self-repair” mechanism; however, in actuality it’s nothing more than a farm of ant-sized robots carrying out their programming.
By their many, tiny hands, they thankfully (or not…) were able to reboot my systems.
Testing right arm…
Testing left arm…
Testing body frame…
Testing right arm again……
These low-functioning repair robots crawl all over my body, earnestly seeking out broken parts they can repair. At this rate, it’s impossible to accurately estimate when repairs might be completed.
“Repairing visual function.”
As the ants scurry erratically all over me, I try to give them a command. Contrary to my initial assessment, their movements are entirely pre-programmed to save time as they systematize the restoration process. However, the ants do not listen to my commands. I suppose I have not yet regained the ability to communicate with them.
Well, fine. I’ve got plenty of time.
I’ll attempt to locate my ID designation in my scattered memory banks.
“P-33”. Apparently that is my model number. Next to that is a curious line of letters that reads, “Beepy”. Is this my identification number? I don’t really know. As the repairs continue, I decide to spend the time gazing upon these mysterious letters.
It was 1,032 hours 12 minutes 34 seconds later when the Input-Output communication with the ants was restored.
Now that my mobility has been restored, the self-repair sequencers can begin making more specific repairs. The first thing that must be repaired is my memory unit.
However, my memory has nearly all but been erased; only a portion of the saved data from the past can be salvaged. With no other options to recover the lost data, preparations to restore the camera are underway.
48 minutes 21 minutes later.
Once my visual cortex was repaired it was like I had been flung into the depths of Hell. I can see a subtle glow of light below me, and I realize that this body of mine somehow sticks to the ceiling.
21 seconds later.
As I observe the movement of the ants crawling on my body and see how calmly they analyze the situation, the thought crosses my mind that perhaps gravity exists on the ceiling. No, that’s not right. My body isn’t just sticking to the ceiling for any reason, but rather the camera’s up-down function is merely reversed. I seem to be lying flat on the ground instead. My gravity sensors must be repaired immediately.
540 hours later.
Arm/Leg connections have been restored. Limbs creaking, I manage to stand.
A wide bunch of cable from a robotic back frame component was discovered as a replacement for the most severely damaged part of my body. Making the decision that it would be faster to lug these spare parts rather than start from scratch by collecting the necessary materials and repairing them, the ants retrieved a spare back frame that must have been stored away in the P-33 Series warehouse.
However, this endeavour failed.
It seems that a security code somewhere in my lost memory unit is necessary for me (and my counterpart ants) to be recognised as part of the P-33 Series. Otherwise, I would be shut out. With no way around it, I ended up wasting 120 hours hacking into the system to access these spare parts.
Oh, for goodness sake.
In this retched condition, I stand and have a look around. Dust whirls up about me. I wonder how much time has passed since I was destroyed. An assortment of debris is scattered about this gigantic room. How long would this “new me” be here?
I look up to the light leaking in from somewhere through the dark space above.
As I gaze at the light, a distant sound alights in my dusty memory.
“Go see the outside world.”
it wasn’t a command. It was merely a string of words. They coursed through my memory, my mind, and my body. It was the principle that guided my will.
I recall it now; it was from “him” that I received these words. But my memory denied my desire to recall who it was. I can’t even remember why only these words remained.
There were no other orders besides this. Under these circumstances, my sole wish is to follow through with these words, to “see the outside world.”
With this singular thought, vigorously stepped my left foot ahead of me.
Let’s get out of here.
His wish has become my own.
Next, I firmly plant my right foot before me.
But my footstep is a little too overzealous. The floor caves in under my weight and I fall through the floor into the abyss below.
32 minutes later.
Flung into the depths of the abyss, I fell some hundred meters and again my body broke into countless pieces.
I laughed. No, actually, I no longer had a sound unit so I didn’t really laugh, but I was filled with the action history logs of the times when I had.
It’s okay. I’m still alive.
I call for the ants to repair my arms and legs.
They attach an arm, some claws, some rollers, an arm, another arm…… Slowly, my form altered and changed, hardly resembling my original design. With all these legs, perhaps I look more like a spider now.
The restoration sequence of a P-33 can only reconstruct a P-33 according to its design schematics. But it would be impossible to escape this abyss with the standard P-33 design. Therefore, I rejected the procedure constructed by my creator to invent a new body unique to myself.
Body modifications complete.
My claws dig into the face of the cliff as I slowly raise myself up.
Reaching the outside world, “his” desired world of beauty, is my only goal.
Of course, at first it didn’t go very well. The brittle wall broke apart easily and I fell to the floor many times. Even if I could make some distance up the wall, chunks of debris from above would come crashing down on top of me, knocking me from the wall again. The old structure of this place is falling apart. Even so, I fire an anchor, repair my body, make a foothold, make a shelter……various methods to continue climbing up the side of the wall. Day after day, little by little, I lifted my body up toward the world waiting for me outside.
Feeling as though my range and speed were insufficient, I obtained a thought processor and memory circuit from a machinery room and fused them into my systems. I need to think of and experiment with various methods. If there were good methods, there must also be bad ones, too. No matter what, I was determined to keep trying.