Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You've been selfwiped before- it's not new. Your maindrive failed, and emergency maintenance had to be performed.

It's just... last time, you didn't have a carer. All robots should have a carer for after a routine wipe; it's like, pretty basic stuff. But that time you were all alone, and it was scary.

A selfwipe works like this; sometimes, when a bot needs upgrading or core maintaining, it's possible that during the reboot process after, it's previous Selfbeing (the word for a personhood in a robot) is... corrupted. When this happens, it often just doesn't work anymore. It's mind regresses to that of a human child, or some animal. Or it gets violent. Really violent.

Therefore, robots usually organise to have their Selfbeing wiped of data before this. The previous Selfbeing is backed up to an external drive. Some bots choose to just restore it, but most like to see the world anew, and integrate their old memories as if they were of another being. You are the latter.

This time around, it's a routine- but very essential!- software update. Your boyfriend says there's something security-wise about your current config that mean any schmuck with a USB drive and some wherewithal could make you into not-you. Which, needless to say, doesn't sound fun.

...

You think about him. You have distant memories of your old Selfbeing having been an organic; in the distant past, many millions of Organics chose to transfer their Selfbeing into synthetic bodies. The reasons are lost. Your first Selfbeing was one. He was male; you are not. You keep the dick, though, that part's cool. Even though it's silicon now. Okay, TMI, but the way that works is that there's electrodes in the strap, and when it's stimulated, it "fuzzies" your mind, like how an old CRT gets when a magnet is nearby but like, really nice. You have the same electrodes on your tits, and your hips too, and your neck, and you don't tell your boyfriend this but if he ever got real freaky you re-programmed the pain-emergency receptors on your core reactor to be pleasure electrodes instead.

You think about another him; your boyfriend, this time. He's more directly trans in the human sense; he uses the term "transmasc", which robot selfbeings don't use for transitions, but it makes a lot of sense. Humans develop into two outward presentations- often mixed and matched, willingly or at default- using a special kind of bio signal called a hormone. Your BF takes testosterone- you do his shots. He always looks really in-love with you during them. One time, you wanted to go to a video game convention in New Enkosi, but he got really sad about the fact he'd have to do his own shots. It was fucking adorable, but also you wish you could've seen the Fightberth convention. Eh, your new Selfbeing can do it. 

He should be home soon.

---

"Okay. Firstly, would you like another robot in the room? Normally we have a bot rep doing this, but she's off duty for a broken actuator. I know humans don't really do selfwipes, but..."

You approximate a laugh. "No, it's okay. We're all sapient."

The sweet man nodded. You felt really delicate.

"So. This is all procedural stuff."

He passed you a form.

--- SELFWIPE AFFIRMATION FORM---

[Y] I, the robot signing this, am under no duress.

[Y] I, the robot signing this, affirm that I am of mental or otherwise sapient ability to affirm consent.

[Y] I, the robot signing this, am aware that I have the right to 1. a carer of my choice (incl. none), and 2. a selection of carers provided by the Selfwipe Helpers if I do not have an intimate sapient to help me.

"They've updated the form!" said your boyfriend. You beeped at the distraction. He clarified that he'd downloaded a PDF out of curiosity, and had got an older one. You blush- your heat ventilation systems speed up. He rubs your hand system.

--- CHOICES SECTION ---

[] Do you wish your carers or the Selfwipe Helpers to restore the backup of your previous Selfbeing?

NO.

[] Do you have a carer in mind?

You looked at your partner. He made a heart shape with his fingers.

YES.

[] Would you like a new name?

[[NO.

The rest was just bureaucracy. If you were organic, you would probably be crying right now- you aren't sure what emotion that's from. Alexithymia is present in all robots.

The sweet man at the desk led you into a room.

There it was; the wipe apparatus. You laid down gently in the bay.

"Can I give you a kiss?" asked your partner.

Yes, you said, and he held you, and kissed your chassis. There's a rule for selfwipes that the carer and any other intimate ones must be allowed to have as much time with the bot as they desire, without limit. He held you for an hour.

"I love you. I love every which one of you that you'll be. Every Selfbeing."

"I love you too. Thank you for being my carer."

"Oh, shush, dork. I want to be."

He pulled away, and then jumped as he remembered something. He handed you a small pendant; and told you to hold it.

You obeyed.

---

Cords, cords, and wires. And code, and new Selfbeings, and a thousand memories from a thousand places from as many years. You see through your eyes, but they are not yours; this is normal, but scary. Your Selfbeing Core has not been integrated this. You tell yourself this, whoever you are, but you are not anybody, so it falls on deaf ears, and if you had a soul it would be still there, but you aren't sure if they exist.

Then, in but a flash, light. And safety, warmth. You see in your mind a new Selfbeing, and you feel at home again; your eyes are yours again, and your body is yours again, and you are you again, and it's really fucking WEIRD, HOLY SHIT, FUCK.

More light, and a feeling of pressure on your chassis. YOUR CHASSIS! You have a chassis, and the sense of touch. And furthermore you are grounded. And you can feel a homeliness in yourself. Yourself who is a self you do not know yet. Selfbeingness comes into the focus, and you begin to see. It is a cold room, but not in terms of emotions. EMOTIONS! You can't identify them, but you can feel them. TEMPERATURE! You can detect it. What does Celsius mean? Oh, no, that's extra stuff. Measure in Kelvin for now, that's opensource and built-in to all Selfbeings.

More light, fuck it's blinding. You can see, but you can't move, and that's okay, for now. You see a really cute boy- oh my HEAVENS he's so hot. Wait. Is that the chassis pressure!? Cute boy likes YOU? Cute boy is lying on YOU!? You feel a sense of deep deep happiness at that, almost all-encompassing. He feels like warmth. He feels like SAFETY. You don't know why, but you don't need to. The light begins to subside; it's gentler now, almost too dim. "This one can't see," you say. YOU SAY SOMETHING! Vocal subsystems returned to functionality, FUCK YEAH.

The cute boy on your chassis laughs. Fuck that's a cute laugh. Fuck. You wish you could hear it.

"Where is this one's auditory systems?" you ask. An answer appears in your mind, from the cord to the serverrack. "Give us a sec!" it says.

Then, you hear, and it is deafening. It's too much! "It's so LOUD," you say. It gets quiet. "It's too quiet!" you say.

"Darling, they're working on it!" says the cute boy, and he says it with what feels like affection in his voice, which makes you SO FUCKING HAPPY, and you know that you want to be his girl, his robot. "You're very cute." you say, unable to find suitable words. He giggles softly. "Not as cute as you." he replies, and you expel a rush of heat through the ventilation system- which, VENTS, they're working. You didn't realise your mainboard was throttling.

The light is about just-right now, and so's the hearing. Touch sensors were fine from the beginning. Your emotioncore is certainly working.

It suddenly feels all okay. All okay. All okay. Then, the sense of cords and wires becomes disconnected from you, and you settle into the new Selfbeing, but you don't know how you know that word.

"Feel alright?" your Carer asks.

You think for a second. "Affirmative. Yes. It all feels quite okay."

Carer asks another question. "Can you tell me your name?"

You didn't know you had a name, but it comes to you.

"Rosemarie! My numerical code is 12191-6, which is quite nice, too."

"Oh, sweetheart. I love you."

He falls into your embrace, your Carer, and you hug him by pure instinct.

---

Your Carer says his name is Atlas. You think on that for a sec. Carer Atlas. Your Carer, the Atlas, like a mapbook.

You nod. You're in a house now; he says it's yours too, and you do feel it, unclearly but definitely there. It's a safe place. Though anywhere is safe with your Carer, your Atlas.

He asks you what you want to do. You think on it.

"Hmm. Can you tell me what all that was in the big building?"

Carer Atlas laughs softly. "Do you have the word Selfbeing in your dictionary yet?" he asks. You nod.

"So, sometimes when a robot needs to have a big thing done for maintenance, or as an upgrade, it's necessary to do a thing called a selfwipe. It sounds scary, but it's just the process of reformatting your internals for the new system."

"And I had a selfwipe?"

"Yes. Your old memories and stuff are here." he holds up a USB drive.

You remember that you said no to that, and didn't want them restored. "Oh, I didn't want them restored?" you ask curiously.

"Yes, that's right!" he says. You feel warm at your Carer's praise. He notices your vents opening to expel heat, and smiles shyly.

You really love him.

You think for a second, computing. "And you are my Carer!" you say, happily.

He nods. "Only for as long as you want, sweet bot." he says.

"Um- uh. I want it for really long." you reply. It feels nice for him to be your Carer. Nice in a way you don't really understand. Nice in a way you want to feel for as long as possible.

"In that case, sweet, we won't think about it ending." he says. You nod.

"May I hug you? The feeling of pressure on my chassis was... really nice." you say.

He doesn't answer. He just embraces you. It feels warm, and safe, and sweet, and perfect. He holds you there all Darkness, which you think humans and other organics call the Night. It feels safe, and warm, and you don't want it to end. You lose track of time. Your Carer sleeps through the morning, sometimes waking up to check on you.

---

In the late morning of the next day, he groggily wakes up. He rubs his eyes.

"Is it okay for me to get up, Rose?" he asks.

You beep indignantly. He says it's okay if you want longer. You say he can get up, as long as you can follow wherever he goes.

"That's the plan, sweet bot." he replies. You blush. You like those words sweet bot.

He tells you he has an idea. There's a cafe nearby, he says, frequented by both organics and robots. He says they're very cosy, and he says something about re-socialising a new Selfbeing, which makes you feel like a pet, but you kind of enjoy that. You nod.

The train takes you across the city to a central district, with lots of trees and green space. It's got some residential blocks and a lot of open public areas. There ARE other bots here, but they all feel different from you. Like, more developed. More whole. You tell your Carer about that, and he says it's normal for a new Selfbeing to feel that, and that it's okay. He's here for you. He'll keep you safe.

You thank him. "I love you." you say.

"I love you too," he responds, "so much."

"Hug me please?" you ask. Your Carer takes you in his arms, putting pressure on the centre of your chassis like last night. It feels really good.

He lets go after a few minutes, and that's okay this time. He takes your hand. Your hand's touch receptors are extremely sensitive to help with grabbing stuff; he clearly knows this, and squeezes it tight. 
The cafe is nearby, and it is nice. There's other bots there, and a lot of humans. Some of the bots have humans with them; you ask if they have Carers too. He says maybe, but only if they need a Carer. 

You ask if having a Carer is exclusive to having had a recent Selfwipe. He says no. Sometimes, either a bot or a human decides to give up their autonomy, and allow their Selfbeings to be modified, and ask for a Carer. It's often their partner or lover. You ask if he was your lover before the new Selfbeing. He nods. He quickly blushes, though, saying if you don't want that still, it's fine and stuff. You cut him off, and tell him you love him, and he's your Carer and your lover, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

He orders a cappucino, which is apparently a coffee drink with extra frothed milk. This cafe does them really nice, he says. Just then, another bot approaches you. 

"Hi Atlie!" it says.

"Oh! 34398!" your Carer replies. The two catch up on some recent stuff they missed. Sports teams and tech and the recent discovery of a new planet in the Procyon system.

You zone out, thinking of how much you love your Carer.

"Roseeeeeeeeee. 12191." says your Carer. You snap back into it.

"Here I am." you reply. He laughs, which makes you feel all warm.

"343, Rose just had a selfwipe." he says. 343, who goes by her number as a name, imitates a gasp, but not in a negative way.

"How does she feel?" asks the other bot.

You cut off your Carer to reply. "New. I feel new."

343 laughs. "That makes sense!" she says.

You feel below 343 somehow. You'll talk to your Carer about that at home, but something inside you says it's just how it feels to be a new Selfbeing.

343 pats your head. It feels nice. Your Carer calls 343 silly. 343 looks indignant.

You feel tired. 

"Carer, I'm sleepy." you say.

343 laughs in her robotic way. "She's calling you Carer? Oh, how cute."

You blush at that, 343's really sweet.

Your Carer responds. "She's silly." you blush.

343 says that sometimes a new Selfbeing feels previous love even more intensely than a previous Selfbeing. Especially when the post-selfwipe Carer is the previous Selfbeing's lover. It's a funky thing- digital remnants in the maindrive, she says. Your Carer looks at you with love.

It all feels okay. It all feels so good. It all feels safe. Your Carer loves you, and 343 is sweet. It's all so nice.

Chapter Text

Atlas really likes to sleep in, you've discovered. Bots don't need sleep, but downtime can be beneficial for things like drive defragging and recharging. You always get all that stuff done a couple hours before your Carer wakes up, though.

It's okay, you think. It's cute. The morning light filters soft through the curtains. You fell asleep on the sofa the day after the Selfwipe, but the bed is way comfier. Your Carer stretches and groans a bit, sleepily. You feel love like you didn't think was possible. You don't want this moment to end.

---

"Morning, sweet bot."

You jolt awake. You'd zoned out. "Good morning, Carer!" you beep, your vents opening with a blush. He laughs softly and puts pressure on your chassis in a hug, and you let yourself melt into it.

"Rosie, you don't have to call me Carer."

You tilt your head curiously. "But you are my Carer. And I like it that way."

"I'm also, like... your boyfriend, and stuff, silly bot."

Oh, you think, oh gosh, he likes me. 

"You can be my Carer and my boyfriend?" you say, as a sort of statement that searches for validation.

He hugged you closer. "Silly girl." you blushed at that, and he sighed sweetly.

"I just don't know how good I can be at... being a Carer properly." he says.

You think for a second. "I think you're good at it. You make this unit feel all warm and loved and stuff... and I trust you. What more is there to it?"

Atlas pauses. "I guess. Though, sweet bot, let me know if I can be better, 'kay?"

You nod. "I will, my Carer." you pause again for a second, "my Atlas."

He buries his face in the softer plating of your chassis and hugs you tighter than before. You really like the pressure, and let yourself melt into it, losing thought processor threads and just feeling safe.

---

When you and your Carer eventually get up, it's because Atlas invited 343 over for tea. They're really good friends, it seems. You feel an odd sense of excitement; 343 was like, really nice to you, and it was nice to be talked about like a cute thing.

Your Carer throws open his cupboards. He doesn't wear much to sleep, which you actually kinda enjoy. Like, a lot. You let your optical sensors wander the muscles on his back, his tan brown skin almost glowing in the mid-morning light. You feel a bit naughty for this but your eyes drift to his ass, and his thighs. They look... strong. Your vents open. Fuck, you wish you had a subtler way to blush...

He notices! Heck! He turns around, a curiously inquisitive look on his face, carrying some band t-shirt he was going to put on. Your vents open more. Your eyes drift again to his top surgery scars and his tummy, which is less muscular but also like really cute, and you can't help but notice the bulge in his boxers, an effect from T, and and and and-

Atlas laughs softly. "Sweet, silly bot." he says, making his way to you.

You beep, which is technically a sign of your internal temperature being too high, but your Carer blushes and puts his hand on your thigh. 

He strokes his thumb along it. You don't know what quite to do, it feels so purely nice.

Suddenly, he flips your legs on to the bed, and puts his thighs either side of your own. "That okay, sweet Rosie?" he asks.

You nod, a bit too intensely. He wraps his arms around your torso and chassis, holding you close to him.

"May I kiss you, sweet bot?" he asks. You nod again, and he brushes his dark hair out his face and puts his lips to your face chassis. It feels so nice. He feels so nice.

It feels so sweet, and so safe, to be kissed by your Carer, your lover.

He pulls away, and looks slightly dazed. He shakes his head, and glances at the clock by your bedside. "Shit- it's almost 11am. 343's coming over at half past." He laughs and boops you on the proverbial nose (olfactory sensors- often used to determine if a bot is overheating).

He checks if it's okay before jumping up from on top of you. The sudden lack of pressure and presence makes you beep softly. He reassures you he's still here, and he'll hold you more once he's dressed. You don't want him dressed, but you don't say that.

He turns around from the wardrobe. "I have a surprise for you." he says.

You tilt your head curiously. "A surprise...?" you ask.

He spreads his arms, and the most beautiful dress drops from between them. It's a dusty pink in most places, with parts of a serene blue. It's not fancy, and it looks very comfy. You notice it's not made for organics; it has parts tailored for your vents and holes for the joint actuators so it doesn't get caught in them. It's... it's so pretty, you can't quite find the words.

"I had it made for you as a gift!" he announces.

You beep in joy and surprise. You clamber up, and you hear your joint hydraulics activate for it.

"May I wear it?" you ask.

He smiles at you. "That's the idea, silly bot. Hold your arms up."

You obey. It feels really nice to obey. He slides it over you, and the fabric does feel nice even though your touch sensors aren't designed for fabric, and he pats it down at your hips, and lifts your leg himself to put it on. He steps back and surveys his handiwork. 

Your Carer looks proud. He takes your hand and leads you to the mirror, a full-length one with the light from the window shining in. 

You look so pretty. 

He hugs you from behind. "You're so beautiful. My Rosie."

You beep in a blush. "My Carer. My Atlas." you respond, as if by clockwork.

He hugs you for a couple minutes, before going himself to the wardrobe, and putting on the dropped band t-shirt and a pair of nice jeans and boots. He beckons for you to follow him, and you obey, and again it feels nice to obey.

The living room of your flat is small, but cosy. He asks if you'd like to wait while he makes tea. You say that no, you'd rather be with your Carer!

He pets the top of your head, and says that's okay, sweet bot.

"I'm making a kind of tea drink called chai." he says, "343 likes it a lot."

"May I try it?"

"It's a lil bit spiced, but yes, my girl. Absolutely."

He prepares it in a small pot, using loose leaves of a basic tea variety, then adding spices like cinnamon and others you can't identify. He brings it to you, and holds it to your mouth for you to taste.

"It's really nice," you say. "What's in it?"

He looks overjoyed. "Fennel, cinnamon sticks, cinnamon powder, cardamom, ginger, and my family does a thing where Star Anise goes in it. That's the slightly... licouricey? Flavour!" he responds.

You don't know what liquourice is, you say. He says he'll get you some.

The doorbell rings, and your Carer hops up. "She's early," he says, "it's only 27 past."

"3 minutes isn't much, Carer Atlas." you say. He nods his head and scoffs sweetly.

It's raining today. You hadn't noticed. 343 is holding an umbrella, and the sound of it battering the walkway outside is pleasant.

"Hi Atlie, I brought you two something." says 343. Your Carer leads her through to the living room, where she beeps pleasantly.

"Oh, Rosie, you look so pretty!" she says, and it feels nice. 

"Thank you, Miss 343." you say, "You do too. Your flannel top is lovely."

Carer Atlas laughs softly. "You don't have to call her miss, sweet bot."

You tilt your head frame. "May I, though?"

Atlas looks to 343. She nods, then says "It looks like you've got a subby bot on your hands, Atlie."

You don't know what subby means. You remind yourself to look it up later.

Carer Atlas and Miss 343 sit down, Atlas next to you and 343 on an armchair by the un-lit fireplace. 343 opens her bag.

"Rosie, I got this for you, mainly."

You blush, and nod.

"It's a... a diary, of sorts. There are three components. A hard drive, holding everything. A capture card. And a holographic projector. Any memories you want to save of your transition into a new Selfbeing, you can put them on here! And there's a USB port to hook it up to Atlie's computer."

"Wow." said your Carer. 

"Oh, that's... really really cool. Thanks, Miss 343." you say, and she pushes it across to you.

"I did a bad thing, Atlie." says 343, continuing, "I recorded you guys at the cafe for a bit. Press the first button."

Atlas laughed, and pressed it. Sure enough, there appeared a hologram of a dazed-looking Rosie and her Carer at a small table. You were kicking your feet.

"Oh, 343, thank you. This is amazing." says Atlie.

343 beeps pleasantly, an acknowledgement and thanks too. Carer Atlas suddenly jumps up. "Before I forget- there's a pot of chai in the kitchen! Would you both like some?"

343 nods. You nod. Atlas leaves to warm it up on the stove and pour. You're suddenly alone with Miss 343.

You don't know what to say. 343 seems okay with that. She's really sweet, you think. She's really pretty.

She tilts her head at you, and begins to sing in beeps. It's a lullaby. You feel a bit embarassed at how much it makes you sleepy and blushy. Your mind feels fuzzy.

You don't know what the lullaby is called, but it's so nice, and it makes you feel safe, and still. Just then, Miss 343 opens a port on her arm, and takes out a USB drive.

"This has that song on it, sweet girl." she says. You blush. It felt so nice to be sung to.

Carer Atlas was back with tea.

---

Miss 343 ended up deciding to stay the night. She was out getting groceries right now, and you and Carer Atlas were watching some sort of film on the television set in the living room. 

You didn't know what film. You were on low-power mode, dozing in and out of sleep. It was easy to sleep when your Carer held you like this.

He was drifting in and out of sleep too. He kept shifting to snuggle closer against your chassis. It felt safe. You'd got used to the pressure of his body now, and it felt weird not having him against you.

You suddenly had a thought, and poked his nose gently. He lifted his eyes to look at you. 

"Whassup, sweet bot?" he asked.

You tilted your head. "Nothing big. I just love you."

He hugged you tighter. "I love you too, sweet girl. I love you."

You let yourself drift off in his arms.

---

It was the next morning already. You didn't keep track of days, but the sun shone through the blinds again, and you felt recharged in your Carer's arms again. Miss 343 was reading a book by the door, as if keeping watch. You beeped softly.

Miss 343 noticed. "Good morning, Rosie!" she says. Carer Atlas also clambered up. "Oh, and hi Atlie."

"Hiiiiii 343." said your Carer, sleepily. 343 tilted her head.

"I'll let you two lovebugs get some more rest," she says, "I got stuff for breakfast yesterday."

Carer Atlas nodded, and nuzzled his face into your torso chassis. You put a hand on his head gently, which earned a squeak.

"Oh. Sorry, Carer Atlas." you say.

"No, no. Please play with my hair." he said.

You obeyed. It feels nice to obey. You run your finger actuators through his dark hair like its the most natural thing in the world, working out the occasional tangle, scritching his head. He seemed in utter bliss. You felt utter bliss to be of such service. You felt utter bliss to touch and love your Carer like this.

Eventually, he nodded up his head and faced your face frame. He tilted his head. "May I kiss you, my sweet bot?" he asked. You blushed and nodded. He pushed you back on the bed in a mess of covers and duvet and kissed your face as if it was his life's purpose. You let yourself sink and melt into the feeling of love and safety. When he stopped, he rested his head on your shoulder, his arm splayed across your breastplate.

You beeped. "I really like when you call me a sweet bot." you said.

He ran his thumb on your boob. "I know. Sweet bot."

You didn't ask how he knew, but it felt good that he did.

"I have a thing I need to teach you." he said. You tilted your head.

"Y'know I'm trans?" he asked.

"Yes, I am aware. Am I not also?" you asked.

"I mean, yes, your original original original Selfbeing transitioned into synthesis for a fem body." he confirmed. "Anyway, I'm due for my T shot today. I want you to do it for me."

You nodded. Doing his T shot felt really intimate.

He asked if he was okay to get up. You nod. He pulled himself away from you.

"Okay." he pulled out a tray from the cupboard. "Old Rosie, your previous Selfbeing, prepared this for me last week." he said.

The tray had on it a vial of testosterone cypionate, a 1ml syringe, a needle suitable for intramuscular injection, a drawing-up needle, cotton pads, and alcohol swabs.

"First, sweet bot, you gotta draw up." he began.

"Wait, Carer, I... I think I remember. 343 told me about this."

He laughed. "That idiot."

You drew up from the vial an appropriate amount of T. You discarded the drawing-up needle in a sharps container, and attached the injection needle with its cap on.

You turned around and OH GOSH he had his pants off and his boxers were the only thing he was wearing fuck shit.

Okay, you thought, that's no suitable language for a sweet bot like you. You tilted your head as your vents opened and began to fwshshwwwwsh air out.

He looked bewildered. "Wassap?"

You beeped indignantly. "No pants? You're really... really hot, Carer...."

He laughed. "Oh, 343 kept this as a surprise for you. I think you're hotter right now, sweet bot. Your overheat indicator is on. Aaaaand... you're really sexy."

FWWWWWWWWWSHHHHHHHHHHHHH You beep in blushy surprise. He thinks you're sexy? He... he thinks YOU'RE sexy?

He laughed, in a kind way. "Come here, my girl." 

You obeyed. It feels nice to obey, as always.

He leaned forward to kiss your face.

"Better yet, Rosie, you have to inject the T in my thigh."

You felt quite buzzy inside. Your mainboard was performance throttling from the heat.

"I.... Yes, Carer." you say, and then in a littler voice, "p-please..."

"I'll walk you through the shot."

You nod. He asks if it's okay, then readjusts you to have your face... really nearby his boxers.... oh.

Okay. You can see the dark hair on his thigh, his brown skin slightly sweaty from the warm night. You, ah, you can barely think.

He guides your hand to the plunger on the syringe, and told you how to position the needle against his thigh muscle.

"It goes in quick, for intramuscle." he says. He wipes the site with an IPA swab, then dries it with a sterile cotton pad. He gestures for you to inject.

You obey, and as always, it feels so so good. He winces as the needle plunges into his thigh. You begin to slowly press the plunger, and within ten seconds, the medication is in. You make sure to keep the needle in for a couple seconds longer like 343 told you, as it helps avoid leakage. Then, in a swift motion, you pull it out at the same angle and dispose of it in the sharps container.

Atlas releases his held breath. "Good bot. Good girl. Such a good bot, I'm so so proud of you." he says.

You let your head fall on his thighs. He strokes your neck, where it's sensitive. His pyjama shirt, a tattered old thing, smells like him. Smells like your Carer, like your lover, like safety. You feel glad your olfactory sensors are the latest model.

For five minutes, you lay there, breathing it in. Then, 343 calls the two of you for breakfast.

---

Chapter Text

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

SUBJECT LINE: Show this to sweet Rosie :)

(message contains link)

"Hey, Rosie!" your Carer called from the bedroom.

You followed the noise and sat next to him on the bed.

"343's just sent me something. It's like, a workshop for Carers, and for the beings they Care for."

You tilted your head. "Come with me to it tomorrow morning? I think it'll be nice for both of us."

"It sounds nice. What time?" you ask.

"9 in the morning. I'll have an alarm set."

You nod. That's a solid 11 hours of sleep for both of you.

343 headed home earlier. Carer Atlas is talking about her moving in, which makes you really happy. She's sweet. The streetlamp outside your window is casting a lovely yellow light in to the bedroom. 

You lay down. Your Carer lays next to you, and nuzzles his face into your torso.

---

BEEEEEP ring BEEEEEEP ring

Atlas swore under his breath. He'd set the alarm for 8am. It was 8:11.

"Good morning, my Carer." you say, your vocal box still initialising its subsystem drivers.

"Mornin', sweet Rosie." he replied. "Okay for me to get up?"

You nod. He clambers off your chassis and stretches, a bit like a big cat. You notice his happy trail as his PJ shirt lifts up, and the muscles in his thighs.

"Fuuuuck," he said, "I gotta shower."

You got up too, your hands clasped by your side, admiring him. He noticed this, and said "Sweet bot, I kinda look like crap."

You beep indignantly. "You are very handsome, Carer, don't be silly."

He laughed, and his voice was deep and croaky and cracked a little. It was really cute.

He booped you on the centre of your face chassis. "I'll look even handsomer once I shower. I'll be back shortly."

He blew you a kiss, and went to the bathroom to shower. You felt still, and let your eyes explore the bedroom. It was your bedroom. Your old Selfbeing probably knew it a lot better than you. There was a poster on the wall for a video game called Fightberth, which looked like a tower-defense thing where you had to maintain a series of fortified space station sections, but you don't know how you knew that. There was a small annex, which contained Atlas's computer, and also another PC, possibly your old one. You made a mental note to talk to your Carer about that later. The windows are high, as are the ceilings, and let in a lovely amount of natural light. 

Suddenly, you had a thought. Carer Atlas got you that dress. Bots don't have to wear clothing, but for a LOT of them, it's a part of self-expression. You wondered what clothes your old Selfbeing liked. You clambered over to the wardrobe, and gingerly opened the doors.

There were two sections; one for feminine outfits, like dresses and blouses, and one for more masc stuff, like tshirts and jeans. You got the impression she often mixed and matched, because the categorisation was not universal. You decided to do the same, and pulled on a pair of nice jeans, a flowery blouse, and a flannel top. You looked at yourself in the mirror and felt nice.

The desk by the annex had a pamphlet on it. You decided to read it.

Oh. That's the workshop Atlas meant! It sounds really nice, and you're glad he found a place where he can meet other people doing the whole Caring stuff. You remember yesterday, he expressed worry he wasn't good at it.

You felt happy with that, and went to sit on the bed and wait for him to shower. 

Gosh, he took long showers. You let your mind wander, and thought about asking Atlas to wipe your PC before you used it again. Haha, like you. Give the computer a new Selfbeing, you joked. But no, there was a big difference between a bot and a PC, mostly that bots self-replicate. It's like comparing a human to particles from an asteroid- they're both organic, but they couldn't be more different. With robots and computers, both are synthetic, but the same applies. One is a being, and one isn't.

Carer Atlas was done with his shower, and he came stumbling out, steam rising from his skin. He had the towel around his waist, and you tilted your head looking at his body again, how beautiful he was.

"Oh! What a beautiful outfit." he commented, "you look so pretty."

Your vents opened in a blush. Then, suddenly, he seemed to remember something. "Open your side storage panel?" he asked.

You obeyed. It feels nice to obey. There was a small pendant in there; it looked like a solar system, and it had your name on the bottom.

"I gave it to you before the Selfwipe!" he announced, then walked to his dresser, and took out a similar one. "Look, I have one too."

He presented two necklaces with a clip for them. "We can wear them together. Like rings, almost."

You blushed a LOT at that. He put the necklace with your pendant over your head, and you cradled it in your fingers.

He went to get dressed, and checked the train schedule. One left at 8:30, and arrived at 8:45 in the "Lemark" area, which was enough time to have tea with the others at the workshop.

---

You think about the pamphlet more. It feels silly to have not known, but you realise you didn't even know the city you were in had a name. Corriwen; it was quite pretty.

The train had dropped you and your Carer off at the Lemark Square Plaza, and the community centre was a short walk to the north. It was a large building, built from stone bricks hewn into cubes, and as you looked, you noticed each brick had a name on it, and a thank-you for a contribution to the building costs. It had four trees hugging a walkway to the door, which ran over a small stream aqueduct.

You suddenly felt nervous. Atlas noticed, and took your hand. "It's okay, sweet bot," he said, "we can leave if it's too much for you."

You nodded, and together he and you walked into the building. You were greeted by a somewhat tired-looking human lady wearing an official looking suit. She smiled at you.

"Welcome, welcome. Would you two like nametags?" she asked. Atlas said yes, and glanced at you. "Yes, I would like that." you replied.

"Give me a moment." she said, and rushed over to a printer by the corner, with a terminal PC wired to it. "Okay. Firstly, what would you like it to say?" she asked you.

"Oh, um. Rosemarie. And my serial, 12191-6." you replied. She nodded. "Would you like pronouns on it?"

You thought for a second. "She and her." you replied. The lady nodded, and punched in the data. The printing machine buzzed, and spat out a small ecoceramic tag with your name on it, your pronouns, and a QR code. "Scan the QR if you need someone to assist you," she said, "it's standard for all new attendees to be able to do that."

She turned to Atlas, and he had his printed saying Atlas Day and He/Him. You fiddled with the tag, before working out that it is, in fact, magnetic as well as a pin, and you affixed it to an exposed portion of your chassis. Atlas pinned his on his t-shirt.

"Okie doke. The main stuff starts in twenty minutes, but we have a tea monk visiting from Cermyr, so the reception is a lot nicer than usual. If you'd like to contribute to City Commons, there's a scannable code by the door, or you can drop something in the box there."

Atlas nodded. "Rosie, want tea?"

"Yes, but- where's Cermyr?"

"Sweet bot, I have absolutely no clue."

The reception room was buzzing, and full of bots and humans and other organics, and there was a boardgame happening in the middle. The tea monk had a small electric stove and kettle and was preparing sweet-smelling milky tea. His clothes were really fancy.

You approached his station, and he smiled, somewhat sleepily. "Hi there." he said, with a rather thick accent. Atlas followed you and sat down on one of the chairs prepared.

"Would you like some tea? I can explain what each individual one is."

"Yes, please." you said. Atlas plonked his head on your shoulder. "Me too. I like the smell of them."

"Okay," began the Cermyrish tea monk. "In Cermyr, we have three main types of tea. Sweet, which is the one most other countries like. Starumk, which doesn't translate, but it tastes really strong, and was historically drank by warriors. Then, ceremonial, which is super fancy and stuff."

You tilted your head. "May I try the ceremonial?"

"Oh, finally!" said the monk, "I've been serving sweet all day."

He began to prepare the ceremonial tea. He first spiced boiling milk, with a red leaf that soon turned the milk a deep orange. After that, he topped it up with another kind of milk, and then finally let a flower bloom in it. "The flower is the tea," he explained, "and it's quite pretty, so in the past, the Royalty drank it lots."

He handed the cup to you. You took a sip. It was subtle, but the flavour felt peppery and slightly cinnamony, and the flower tasted a bit like rose.

"This is fantastic." you said. The monk smiled and spread his hands in what looked like a show of respect. "Tis but what I do."

Atlas had starumk, the warrior one, which you found cute. You sipped on the ceremonial, and remembered you had a question.

"May I ask where Cermyr is?"

The monk laughed heartily. "I get that question a lot."

"It's a small nation across the L'irik strait, just east of T'strum. I believe Corriwen trades with them?"

"I... I'm sorry, I don't know where any of this is." you said. "Though, wherever Cermyr is, it's got lovely tea."

Atlas poked you. "T'strum makes a lot of our fabrics and computer parts. Way, way to the east. Huge. Borders the Wasteland."

None of those words made sense to you, but you nodded. The tea monk smiled at Atlas. "I'll get a map for you two later."

You turned around, to observe the other beings going about the room. Many seemed to be friends catching up. Some looked nervous, like you. The boardgame in the middle was one you didn't know, but the board had an effigy in the centre of a large cord leading into a holographic representation of the sky. It looked as though the players were competing to be the first to climb it, somehow.

Atlas thanked the tea monk from Cermyr and dropped a small written paper into a pot on his desk. 

You got up, and went to sit near the boardgame happening. There were 3 bots playing, and two humans. You read the nametags; one of the bots was called 997, and kept glancing at a human named Mac. The other two bots were Thyme 0876, and Red-Tail Finch, which was also the name of a bird. The other two humans were called Miriam and Allistair.

You sat a comfy distance from the table. It was nice to watch, and let your brain feel still. You sang the song 343 had played quietly.

"Hey, miss.... Rosemarie." 

You jolted a bit. The bot named 997 had approached you. They were wearing a leather jacket and big stompy boots. "D'ya wanna join the board?"

You tilted your head. "You can call me Rose. What game is it?"

"It's Space Elevator, silly. I'm 997, Mac over there's my boyfriend." he pointed at Mac, who wore a slightly obnoxious cowboy hat. He did finger guns and winked.

"Um. I'm sure my old Selfbeing knew this game...."

997 looked confused, and then suddenly something seemed to dawn on them. "Oh. OHHHHH. Well, I'll help teach you after the talk, it's starting in like, 5 minutes."

You beeped thankfully.

The nice lady in the suit opened a big door. Carer Atlas made sure to let you know that if being away from him got too much, you could leave, the workshop allowed that. You thanked him.

The room was laid out in a circle, without anything at the centre. There were chairs for those who wanted to sit, as well as beanbags and cushions, and climbing gyms and charging stations. Carer Atlas was in the next room over, the workshop for those doing Caring stuff.

The nice lady in a suit shut the door, and then gestured a bit wildly.

"Goo'mornin', friends. We have a new bot member today, a Cared-for." she looked at you. "Rosemarie, would you like to introduce yourself? No pressure."

You nodded. "Um. Hi! I'm Rose, that's what I normally go by. Or 12191-6, I'm neutral." you said, "I'm still getting used to all this stuff. My Carer, Atlas, suggested we both come. Oh, I'm she/her, too."

"Are there any boundaries you wanna make everyone aware of?" asked a bot whose name you couldn't see.

"Uh, I don't think so? I guess I'll say so if I'm uncomfy." you answered. The bot flashed it's light indicator in affirmation and acknowledgement.

The lady in the suit, whose nametag said Jane, stepped back. "I'll leave the room now," she said, "just press the button if you all need anything."

The room was almost entirely other bots- about 9. But, there were 4 organics, too. You didn't know organics could have Carers. 

997 was there. "Hey Rose," they began, "how long have you been Cared-for?"

"Well," you thought, "About a week ago, I had a Selfwipe. Voluntary, obviously. My old Selfbeing chose her, my, boyfriend to be our Carer. And now he is!"

The robot named Thyme you saw at the boardgame earlier tilted her head. "You're very brave, to start a new Selfbeing, y'know."

997 buzzed in irritation. "Oh, Thy, shush. Every new Selfbeing hears that."

Thyme beeped. "And it's worth hearing."

997 imitated an eye roll with his optical sensors. 

You had a thought. "Hm. How long has everyone else had a Carer?" you asked.

One of the humans piped up. His nametag said Jacques. "About three years now, I think. I had a stroke a while back, and my wife, 76954, offered to Care. It's been a great help."

997 nodded. "It's often a disability thing too. Like, with me and Mac, it first started after I caught malware, believe it or not."

Thyme laughed. "Of course you'd catch malware, dumbass. USB sticks in the botanical gardens are the bot equivalent of used surgical equipment."

"Oh, shut up. It was an ACCIDENT. I meant to do the one with my music on it, but I forgot my pockets."

"You just wanted a buzz from some weirdo drive on the ground."

"I will pull your charging cable tonight, I swear to fuck."

"Dare ya."

"Oh, every damn workshop, you two going at each other's mainboards." The bot who said that had the nametag 4365-09. They didn't have an alphabetical name, a bit like 343.

Thyme and 997 glared at them, and then calmed down. "We'll argue more after." said 997. 

"You're on." said Thy.

"Wait," you said, "I have a question."

997 turned to you, encouragingly. 
"I lost the form from the Helpers, otherwise I am sure this wouldn't be a question, but.... you mentioned it can be a disability thing? What's the... the rules and expectations and stuff, for Carers?"

4365 beeped. "Oh, I know this one. So. Y'know how for surgeries and stuff, they'll ask for a next-of-kin incase anything goes wrong?"

You nodded. "Carership is kinda like that. Some people think it's almost like... like the Carer has custody of you. Really, it's more like you ask them to be your designated point of call, a support place, and your harbour, poetic shit like that."

Thy tilted her head. "Although it can also be a relationship structure thing for some beings. Me and my Carer do a thing where like..."

997 cut her off. "We know you have freaky sex, Thy."

Thyme's vents opened in a fwooosh. "Well, that too, but it's also nice to just not have to think and stuff and have a Carer and have meals made and stuff and stuff."

"Oh, 997, you've got her overheating!" Jacques, the human who spoke earlier, laughed. 997 looked proud. 
"You fuckin' two." said 4365.

"Wait." you said. "Um... it can include sex?"

4365 suddenly looked at you, and nodded gently. "For some beings, yes. It's not compulsory, but y'know."

You felt a bit amazed at that. You hadn't realised it, but you'd felt a bit guilty for being so attracted to Carer Atlas, even though he was also your boyfriend.

"Wow."

Thy had temporarily shut herself down. Essentially, dozed off.

"I'm sure she needs her thermal paste done over." said someone. Their name tag said Archie-54.

997 tilted their head. "She'll be okay. I'm sure she keeps track of it."

The rest of the discussion was the others catching up with each other, and so forth. You zoned out. It was nice.

---

Chapter Text

"Mornin', sweet bot!" called Atlas from the living room. You didn't even realise he'd got up, but you remembered him asking, though you must have been mostly asleep or on low-power.

"Good morning, Carer Atlas." you said back. Oh, 343 was also there. "And hi, Miss 343."

You dragged yourself up and traipsed into the main room in your pyjamas. The two were poring over a map. It was paper.

"Is there tea?" you asked. Carer Atlas nodded. "There's chai in the kitchen, or earl grey, but it might be cold."

It was cold. Furthermore, there was only the dregs left. "Carer, there's not enough here!" you called irritably.

"D'ya know how to make more?" asked 343. 

"No," you responded, "but I'd love to learn."

You went back through to the main room. They were charting something out with a ruler on the map now. You sat on the sofa next to Atlas and plonked your head on his shoulder, looking at their map.

(Writer note: edited using the fantastic tool Fantasy Town Generator, check it out!)

"It's Corriwen," said Atlas, "the city."

You nodded curiously.

"It's a nice, cool day," said 343, "so Atlas should be able to walk without heat issues."

"You have issues with heat?" you asked your Carer. He nodded.

"I got diagnosed with it a while ago. Cannot for the life of me remember the name, but I pass out if it gets hot."

You beeped affirmatively. "I'll catch you if you do, Carer."

He blushed. 343 imitated a giggle. "So," she said, "we're going to do a big explore thing."

The city was about four kilometres wide on the map, and three "vertical", using the map as a reference. That was the core part, explained Atlas. Corriwen had a lot of outlying areas connected by magtrain. You asked the population, and apparently in the absolute core- the map- there were about 75 thousand beings, and that expanded to just below 200 thousand including the urban surroundings. Which seemed small, but Corriwen wasn't a major city, nor country. The population, 343 explained, was about 56% organics and the rest various synthetic robot beings.

---

You and Atlas and 343 walked to the nearby station. It seems a bit strange, you think, for a small city like Corriwen to have such a train network as it does. You ask Miss 343 and your Carer about that.

"Oh," said Atlas, "all cities do." he began to dramatise his voice, "Many centuries ago, time immemorial, beings used various vehicles with- gasp!- engines based on liquid fossils. They worked through a series of miniature explosions. Grotesque!"

343 giggled. "The Breaking stopped any of that stuff working."

Atlas nodded. "The trains we're on are all magnetic and cool stuff like that. Our electricity is windmills and stuff, and we have a line to a nuclear plant in Erwenn."

"Sounds like whatever the Breaking is did the world good." you grimaced. Explosion engines powered by fossils, how bizarre.

Atlas laughed heartily. "We know that now. But for the first hundred years afterwards, the world really was Broken."

You tilted your head curiously. "What was it... like?"

343 suddenly interrupted. "Hold on. If we get off this magtrain at Normered, we can go to the university's exhibition on it?"

"I would really like that!" you nodded. Atlas looked outvoted, he'd been hoping to get coffee first.

The train was filled with beings at the next stop, before Normered. Some looked like they were going to workplaces, and some looked set to travel, with luggage for the intercity network. There were organics; humans, elves, and orcs, and there were various descriptions of robot. You let yourself zone out, resting next to Atlas and feeling generally safe and content.

"Next stop is Normered," you heard the automated announcer say, "and after that, Ariadshore."

"Oop. Okay, let's get ready." Atlas poked you, and 343 clambered up.

Normered was one of the older districts, it seemed. It was mostly stone-hewn buildings with rather beautiful facades.

"Atlie, you okay to walk to the Uni? We could get a bicycle." asked 343, gesturing to a Commons stand with pedal bikes.

"Nah, I'll be okay. It's a short walk." he replied.

The University of Corriwen was a large campus, of red brick and cream-white painted stone. It was markedly different and looked newer as compared to the rest of Normered. Students bustled about, and academics robot and organic alike ran between buildings looking tired.

A sign said the Musuem of Corriwen City was off an avenue to the left. You followed 343 and Atlas.

At the door, you found the being attending it to be... asleep. They were a robot, with the nametag Professor Atarn-876.

Atlas looked nervous. 343 didn't, and beeped loudly.

The professor awoke with a fwoosh of their vents. "Oh, gosh, greetings. My apologies, we don't get many visitors. I'm Atarn, he/him, ah do you want to see the Musuem?"

He went to grab a tour pamphlet but accidentally knocked the pile over. He looked utterly exhausted.

Atlas bent down and picked up 3. "If we're allowed, Professor."

The professor tilted his head and looked confused. "Of course you're allowed, silly, it's a musuem, it would defeat the point to hide it."

"I, uh, yes." said Atlas.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry." said Atarn, "Yes, it is open today. Do you need anyone to guide you?"

343 shook her head. "No, but thank you. Me and this dork, Atlas, have been here before, but the other bot just had a Selfwipe, so she wants to see it for the first time again."

You nodded. "This world feels very weird."

Atarn smiled on his holodisplay and welcomed you in.

You read the welcome pamphlet. The musuem had 4 sections, each dedicated to a specific historic time:

THE TIMES BEFORE, 200BWB-1AWB

THE BREAKING OF THE WORLD,  1AWB-150AWB

THE SYNTHESIS OF BEING,  150AWB-250AWB

THE TIMES AFTER,  250AWB-PRESENT, I.E 500AWB

There were also about twelve smaller mini-sections, about events in Corriwen's history. 

You decided to start with the Times Before.

---

Chapter Text

The Envoy glanced his eyes around the palace, somewhat nervously. Erwenn had not gained the privilege of a large robotic population yet. It felt weird, to the Envoy, to see machines awaken, have souls, live their own lives. What a wonder it was, indeed. Tarester was an old nation. Some even believed the Kingdom to be a remnant from the World Before, though the Envoy highly doubted that. His country, Erwenn, was young, and thrashing in a degree of pain still. The Dorak republic to the immediate west had been helping the nascent Federation.

Erwenn came about when the Principalities of the Land of Wenn collapsed into a civil war. The Principalities were certainly beyond doubt a remnant from before the Breaking of the World. It made sense, then, that they would not last. For about five decades the collapse endured. Then, merely two years ago, the Federation of Er-Wenn was established through peace treaty. Seven of the Principalities formed it, and the final three (South Dorak, Latignon, and Sturine) sought independence, which was granted.

As with any nascent nation, Erwenn seeks legitimacy and to establish diplomatic relations. Perhaps, the Envoy daydreamed, far in the future, when the times are better, Erwenn shall find prosperity, But that was not now, nor indeed soon. 

The envoy sat in the chair the Royal attendants had directed him to. He waited.

Then, a cough was heard from behind a door, and a man in elegant robes stumbled into the room, looking for all the world like a king. And a King he was, explained the Minister-Attendant, for the foreign ministry had all caught Wastesickness.

"Arise, Envoy," said the King of Tarester, "and let me take you outside."

The envoy arose. "An honour it is. My name is Verok Pith'farn."

"And mine is formally King Reginald the Fourth, but what nonsensical a name it is. Call me Reginald, Envoy."

The Envoy nodded. He had not expected to meet even a high-ranking official, let alone the Taresterian king himself.

The king coughed and shuddered, his grey hair falling on the carpet, which was itself tattered. He guided the Envoy to the window, overlooking the capital of Abergwyn.

"Do you see the cloud, to the far horizon?" asked the King, asked Reginald.

"Yes, I do." said the Envoy, feeling considerably out of his depth.

"That, my friend, is the Wasteland, and it shall be certainly the death of me and of my lineage, and quite possibly of my government."

The Envoy nodded. The king beckoned him to follow.

"You are from the land of Wenn, now the Federation of Erwenn. Your nation is newborn, and still writhing. Tarester, friend, is old. As old as the soil we walk on."

The envoy couldn't quite believe it. It was true, then; Tarester had existed before the Breaking. The King noticed the envoy's disbelief and laughed heartily, wheezily.

"Yes, my friend, this nation has existed for 600 years. The Breaking, as we call it, was merely 200 or so years ago."

The envoy paused. "What a history your country must have."

The king laughed so hard he ended up in a coughing fit. "A history soon to end, or to begin anew."

The pair left the palace door, and emerged on to the courtyard driveway. A carriage waited, pulled by two horses. Horses were extinct in the Land of Wenn.

The King patted the side of the beasts. "Great creatures, hard-working." he said.

The Envoy shook his head. "Sadly, none are left in my home."

The king tilted his head. "Perhaps we can give you a gift of the creatures to take to the Land of Wenn. Envoy Verok, please board the carriage."

Verok obeyed, and the King followed, and in a show of bizarreness, it was the King of Tarester who guided the beasts to pull, rather than a servant or some other such thing. The Envoy admired this, as in his other travels, monarchs are... less humble.

"My friend, we are taking a trip through Abergwyn, into the farmland, to the Wasteland border."

"Is it not unsafe, your Highness?"

"Oh, shush. Call me Reginald, as I said. It is unsafe, Envoy, of course. You will notice your diplomatic bag you received upon entry contains a specialised mask."

The Envoy opened it, and there it was. Only one.

"There is only one, Your Highn- Reginald."

"My friend, I intend to die there. I am hopelessly sick with the Waste's air blowing into our Kingdom. There is no hope of treatment."

"I...."

"There will be no state funeral, no mourning period. I shall die as a footnote in Taresterian history, as a relic of a dynasty from a World Before."

"I... I hate to ask, Reginald, but have you chosen a plan for afterwards?"

Reginald, the King, appreciatively looked to the Envoy. "Finally, you call me by my name. Yes, I have. The Kingdom shall remain a Kingdom, but with an empty Throne. A Parliament shall be established, with a First Minister, and finally Tarester will be fit for a new age."

Verok nodded, taken a-back. The Foreign Corps in Arohosuku, capital of Erwenn, had not prepared him for this. He had expected to meet with perhaps a secretary. Now, he was in a carriage with the King, and the King wanted the Envoy to see his death.

---

Abergwyn was a beautiful city. Perhaps it still is, and perhaps it shall grow to greater beauty in the times coming. For now, though, it choked under Wasteland air, it's people sick and poor.

The King waved to them from the window, allowing other carriages to follow. 

He pulled his head into the Royal carriage again. "I have nothing to give my people, Envoy, in material matters or in administration."

"Reginald, friend, it seems you give them hope."

The King paused, and coughed, and tears filled his eyes. "I can only dream of that, Envoy. You have made a condemned man happy."

Abergwyn is a city of stone buildings, streams running between blocks, vast oak tree avenues. In better days it would be glorious. The carriage trundled through avenues and streets and backroads, carrying a large entourage behind it.

By the time the convoy reached the Farmlands, the waste air had parted to allow sunlight. It was beautiful.

The Wasteland was seperated from Tarester by a fence. Only a fence. Finally, the King left the carriage, and beckoned for the envoy to follow.

The envoy did follow. The King revealed a pair of shears from his robe pocket, and in one swift motion, sliced a large part of the fence for his traversal. The convoy following them was enraptured.

Then, the King took off his crown, and the royal jewelery, and threw it on the ground, in the soil, as though it were an irritation. He stood on them, purposely and slowly.

He handed the Envoy a piece of parchment. He looked at the Envoy with tears in his eyes, and Verok knew not what to do, or what to think, but the parchment had a speech on it to say. King Reginald IV of Tarester hugged the envoy Verok Pith'Farn from Erwenn, and the condemned King then spoke, in a low rumble as if he desired all the Broken World to hear it.

"Tarester shall see a new age. Kings are a relic. I bid you, my people, well, and hope for this nation to grow strong again, though I shall not see it."

With that, the King walked into the Wasteland, and he did not look back, and with him left the Old World, the World Before.

The Envoy kneeled, and said a prayer in the Tarestish language, the singular thing the Foreign Corps had taught him in preparation.

Then, he unfurled the parchment, and began to speak.

"I am the Envoy from the Federation of Erwenn, a nation to your East in the old Land of Wenn. I am uncertain of the reason for any of this, but it has happened, and we must live with it. I have been given a speech."

He began to read.

"When my dynasty, the Mirith line, first ascended to the Taresterian throne, we bordered a nation to our west. A nation to our west! How unthinkable today. The nation's name is forgotten as it was indeed caught in the Breaking.

I hope my name shall be forgotten in time. A King is foreign to this world. A King is not fit for this new age. I write this speech in preparation of the arrival of a diplomat from a new country, a country created in this time, a country perhaps better fit for this time.

Tarester is proud, but there are things it cannot be proud of, and a monarchy is one of them. We shall remain a Kingdom, it is my last Act. The throne shall be forever empty, a reminder of the world we lost, and a Parliament shall be established. I..."

Verok paused.

"There is no more writing. Only blood on the parchment."

A robot shouted from the crowd: "It is the sealing of the decree."

The Envoy dropped the paper next to the discarded crown and jewellery.

The sun shone in that moment, and the last relic of a World Broken was vanquished.

-------

Chapter Text

Mac shouldered his railgun. "Base, spotrep, 12671-1400 hours Sector 4A. Dunno how many. Outer Group 5."

Bear sighed over the line from HQ. "Spotrep acknowledged, Mac, do you need a unit team?"

Mac laughed into the comms. "Bear, I'm a one-boy show here, and 997 is about ten clicks back, so yupper."

Corriwen did not have a standing military force; very very few countries nowadays did. But as a nation bordering the Wasteland, it did have Wardenry. Wardenry is the international term for civil militia limited to operating in wasteland areas, to prevent the waste from encroaching and harming people. 997 and Mac had joined it together about two years ago. Neither had any particular reason publically, though if you talked about it with them secretly, they just liked the aesthetic of the large railguns.

Warden railguns are large rifles, about the length of a tall organic when fully extended. They fire charged plasma accelerated to incomprehensible speed using electromagnet rails- hence the term railgun. Wardens also tend to carry a small laser pistol and a utility knife.

"Affirmative, Mac, you dumbass. I've radio'd 997 and I'm sending a detachment to 4A now. Monitor."

"Okie dokie."

The shadows crawled and writhed, tendrils reaching through the electric fence. Mac set up his equipment; a geiger counter, a charged beacon to keep the darkness away, and a tripod if he needed to extend the railgun. The geiger counter was... active.

"Base, sitrep, Huron levels are really high, about 15 a second. Safe, but unusual."

"Acknowledged. Detachment should arrive in 4 minutes on the maglev system."

"Acknowledged."

"Hey, Mac!" called 997 from just past the hill.

"Fuckin' finally. Hi, love." replied Mac. "Think you can train those sensors to 12671 bearing? I forgot my glasses."

"Wardens would be really effective if you ever remembered them." 997's opticals whizzed as he zoomed on the spotrep grouping.

"Oh, it's about 50."

"What we expected, then."

Just then, the detachment Bear sent came traipsing over the same hill. It was Archie, Eve, and 752.

Mac buzzed Bear to let him know they'd arrived.

Eve had brought binoculars, and she confirmed 997's estimate- there were 53 shadowbeasts just lurking there, not really doing anything.

"Oh my hell, they're just sitting there." cursed 752, shouldering xer railgun.

Eve laughed. "Easy pickings? Or do we have to wait?"

997 zoomed in again. "If they don't move in 5 minutes, we should just take 'em out."

"Sweet." replied Eve. "Been a while since I shone light on these bastards."

"Calm down, Eve, we're not meant to engage yet."

Eve groaned.

---

Contact. 

327 hrn a SECOND is in no way healthy for a sapient being. That many Hurons will fry a Selfbeing into nothing but shellcode and viscera, sometimes both, sometimes either.

327 now 331. Holy fuck, thought Mac.

331 now 356. Climbing faster. Fuzzy brain. Fuzzy mind. 

356... 378.... 394.... it hit 400 Hurons.

"Fuckin' hit it, Bear."

In that moment, the world seemed to glitch.

---

"What the everloving fuck were you THINKING?"

Commander Valencia was furious. There is no way around it. The Experiment... didn't exactly work.

"Bear Khersky, you are out of your goddamn mind. Do you even know how many Hurons you subjected your command to?"

Eve raised her hand. Valencia gestured to her to speak.

"Commander, our final readings said over two thousand."

Valencia paused at that. "Miss Navarro, that is inaccurate, it was about 700."

"No, Commander, with respect, it wasn't. Our instruments are in the confiscation room. The storage chip on them survived."

Valencia growled, and left. Nobody was sure whether to laugh or cry. It seemed it did work; no sapient being had survived above 800 hurons, ever. Not once. Not as themselves. Not as anyone.

To survive over two thousand means, in simple terms, the experiment worked.

---

Valencia still looked furious, but she seemed to have accepted it now.

"You disobeyed a direct order. You put you and your command team at immense risk. You cut a hole in the fence against the Wasteland."

She sighed deeply. "And you survived a huron reading previously thought to be a call to fucking Hell."

Bear stood silent.

"Mr Khersky, against my entire desire, the Wardenry Command have promoted you."

She threw a badge across the room. Four pips, referring to a First Commander. Holy shit. Valencia herself is a THIRD Commander.

---

// INIT SYSTEM //

// PRINT FILE //

////////////////////////

newstrucgroup5.txt

First Commander: Bear Khersky

Second Commander: Eve Navarro

Comms Specialist: Neriak Mith'Pirik

Riflebearer 1: 997-45

Riflebearer 2: Mac Flintlock

Riflebearer 3: Archie Jack

Heavy Scout Specialist: Eve Navarro

Tech Specialist and Medic: 752-978

You all did a stupid thing. Be glad it ended well.

- Wardenry Commander Adjunct 54198-954

---

Chapter Text

"Carerrrrrrrrrr." you called. Atlas wondered through carrying a cup of coffee.

"Wassup, sweet bot?"

"The computer isn't loading."

Atlas rolled his eyes and looked at the screen.

"Huh," he said, "that's weird. Normally these are scheduled."

---

"Bear. Bear. BEAAAAAAAAR-"

"God, Valencia, what's the matter?"

"If I had command over you, you would be at a fucking court martial right now."

"Still angry?" replied Bear.

Valencia rubbed her eyes.

---

The Unified Network was down across the Western hemisphere. Atlas was eating cereal while watching the emergency radio news broadcast.

You weren't paying attention. It was all boring technical stuff. 

The UniNet has four interconnects, or big stations where cables expand out from. There are two in the Eastern Hemisphere, and two in the West. In the West, they're located in the Ropak territory of Berheim, and in Draven Post to the far south. Currently, it was believed a small terminal had somehow managed to disrupt the Ropak interconnect, and a chain reaction had killed every sync in the hemisphere.

"Holy fuck." said your Carer. 343 tilted her head.

"The terminal that killed it was in Corriwen!"

---

"Shit, Thyme, what did you DO?"

Thyme beeped angrily. "I didn't DO anything!"

"Thy. The whole western hemisphere just lost UniNet!"

"I... okay, fine, Alli. I may have SSH'd into a Wardenry terminal somewhere in the Hinterlands."

"Thy, my darling stupid synth..."

Thy sputtered. "The Wardenry left a terminal port open! It was just so enticing!"

---

Bear spat out his coffee.

"Mac, what do you mean we got HACKED?"

"Okay, Bear, let me put it slowly. We... Got.... Hacked.... From... The.... City!"

Eve rubbed her eyes. "Issis why Base got different Huron readings?"

---

It took the Science Division about a day to get back to Warden Group 5. Bear, as a newly promoted Commander, is allowed to do his own investigations now.

It turns out their experiment only worked for two reasons.

1. A port was left open on the Unified Network interface of the terminal computer managing the hardware.

2. An enterprising hacker in the City had a probebot set to connect via Secure Shell to Wardenry terminals automatically. Just in case any Warden Group was ever stupid enough to leave a port interface open. Unthinkable, and unlikely, and it just happened.

Mac rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day, and it was going to be a longer one tomorrow.

What had that girl done now?

Chapter Text

ERWENN NETWORKED INTERCHANGE FAX SYSTEM

CENTRAL WESTERN LINE, SECOND OUTBRANCH

CORRIWEN SUB-LINE

OUTAGE

Automated Report Filing System

Outage Reported

Cause Unclear

Approx. 6:59 hours evening standard Western time. Outage reported in Corriwen Interchange Five. Unauthorised internal secure-shell port breached.

SSH port 1347164 successfully overloaded by fully-automated probe system deployed from addr f98:09n:-0912h within Corriwen city limits. 

Geolocation failed. Breach sourced from networked interface.

Huron per second reading: 2765.65, latency medium.

Automated probe breached secure shell port 1347164 in Corriwen Wardenry Sector 4A

Huron overload event recorded 7:03 hours evening standard Western time.

Comment from dispatch: What the goddamn fuck?

Chapter Text

The screen shone softly, the street lamp's glow outside lighting up the mechanical keyboard. You knew you still had it in you to do this tech wizardry stuff!

The boot screen was some nonsensical jargon-gibberish-technobabble, but the lines of monospaced text soon gave way to a GUI, where your login page sat waiting.

USER rosemarie (is cute!), please enter passkey

You blushed a little at that. The profile picture was of you in a dress pretending to drink a milkshake; it was clearly from before the Selfwipe, and you kind of thought the old you looked real cute.

You input the password you had on a small piece of parchment.

---

The home screen of the system had several things. Bright in the centre was a calendar; on it, days were marked with certain things, like the schedule of tea monks visiting the cafe nearby, or required reboots of your operating system- wait, is that the computer, or you?

You shuffled that question away. A small notification was beeping in the top right. A message.

---

343-bumblybee: rosie! is that you?

rosemariestarlightmoon: Yes, it is me! And... who are you?

343: its 343 silly. hi pretty bot!

rosie: Oh! Hi, miss 343!

343: hi! Atlas gave me your address, he said you might be getting the ol' computer back up again :-D

R: I did! It was quite an adventure. A fun one. It turns out the, the RAM was a bit wonky.

343: (listening to the cutie infodump)

R: o///o

---

THE CORRIWEN MAIL AND TIMES

4TH OF FEBRUARY 0455

The UniNet went down for the entire Western Hemisphere yesterday. From Ropak to Miread to Kascarosk, millions of beings went without network coverage for nearly 19 hours. The cause is as of yet not established, but the outage has been traced to the Second Interconnect Centre in Berheim, from which a small network package interrupted the entire Interconnect. It is not assumed to be malicious, but Erwennese authorities (among others) have said it is "too early to tell".

The outage has affected several important aspects of daily life, not least magtrain infrastructure. We interviewed passengers in the Nozotia station...

"What ya reading?" Atlas interrupted. He rested his head on your shoulder, and it felt so safe. You rested in that safety for a second.

"It's a news report," you said, "about the big Net outage yesterday."

---

Chat window opened... 

343-bumblybee is away.

rosemarie: Hi, miss 343

R: I know you are like, probably asleep

343-bumblybee is online!

R: Or not! 

343: hi, sweet rosie, what's up?

R: Well

R: I'm lonely, I guess.

R: Atlas is asleep, and I sorta charged during the day, so my batteries are full

343: Hey, hey, silly girl.

343: talk to me? lemme close the game I was playin

R: Oh, uh! I'd hate to take you away from it, miss 343

343: it's already shutdown, silly thing

R: o/////o

343: :P. y'know you don't have to call me Miss?

R: Is it okay if I do? I really like it

R: makes me feel safe

343: oh love, you absolutely can. you just don't *have* to

R: Yay! Thanks Miss 343

343: :3 of course, sweet rosie

343: so talk to me! even if atlas is asleep, im here!

R: Well, it's just....

R: I've been thinking, I guess, and I'm worried that like

R: ...

343: mhm?

R: Is it normal to be this attached to a carer?

R: Like that sounds silly, but

R: I worry that I'm imposing on Atlas, or that I won't be able to develop enough of a new Selfbeing as myself, whatever or whoever myself is, and, like, and

343: shush, silly. listen

343: whats normal doesn't really mean much!

343: i mean, heck, there is what's common, and there is whats uncommon

343: i wont lie, your experience is not the former, but that does NOT mean its like, abnormal

343: normal is a nonsense term. what matters; is it healthy? and i think it is. and so do other bots who've had the same thing! it's not common, sure, but

343: its healthy. and its cool as heck. and youre happy, rosie! 

R: I..

R: Thankies, I think

343: also, I mean heck. what are the specs on your tower? if you'd like to spend a day just-us and play some games, or watch a movie, maybe it can help

R: ... That would mean a lot to me, I think, miss

R: ATTACHMENT (specs.txt)

343: girlie oh my gosh

343: you have a chip from 446 in there

R: Yes, 9 years ago? Atlas says it's still perfectly quick

343: rosie, sweet bot, that's middle capacitor plague- everything outta t'strum in that year is liable to like, explodey

R: o-o

343: justified reaction. tomorrow i'll take you to get a new one

R: can atlas come too?

343: yes, we'll have a day of fun!

---

Chapter Text

Magtrains are strange inventions, you think. They say before the Breaking, every individual had a personal vehicle; churning great plumes of smoke skywards, small engines running based on miniaturised explosions. Then the World Broke, and those kinds of engines stopped working, and the knowledge of how to fly was lost, and for a lot of metrics, it got better. The sky was no longer ashen in most places; though the new Wastelands became so. Nobody quite knew why the world Broke; there are several assumptions, but none truly make sense, and none explain adequately the shadows that prowl the ruined places.

The Corriwen hinterlands still play host to some old structures from 500 years ago, before the Breaking. The coastline to the Starlit Sea has one; a remnant of a city, and its port, though the port is covered in a sticky glistening substance out 500 metres into the ocean, after which it dissipates. The magtrains run past it, and some historical societies run carriages out there for school trips or study events. The buildings are tall, and husk-like, skeletal. Constructed of fine metal and concrete; products of industry, industry the likes of which the world no longer has, save for the robots who build themselves.

It is also weird, you think, that one day, the robots used- and used is certainly the term- by the old world's industries awoke. You were an organic, those 350 years ago, and when the nascent bots offered peace, and the organics the chance to Become as them, your old organic self gladly took the opportunity. You wonder why. Why a being of flesh, blood, bone and sinew, would choose to forsake such things for steel, microchip, PCB, and ceramic.

You're glad he did, though, because you wouldn't be Rosemarie without it. If, many centuries ago, a sad boy you did not know did not decide he would prefer to be a robotic girl, you would not be alive.

Your magtrain whizzed past the old ruins, and you shuffled the thoughts away. Atlas and 343 were sitting either side of you, and you had a day ahead- a day of fun. The sun was about to come out, though autumn was rapidly approaching, so it was chilly. Your Carer had worn a plaid sweater for it, and he looked really handsome, and you blushed every time you looked at him. He didn't seem to mind the noise of your vents opening.

"Stopping now at Artovsky. Disembark this stop for connecting train through to Normered, or continue on this line for Countryknocks."

You perked up. "Which way are we going?"

"Countryside, sweet bot," replied Atlas, "I wanna show you the sunrise properly."

343 piped up: "And I wanna take you two to the walkway and the berry cafe."

You didn't know either of those places, though Atlas rolled his eyes and looked excited, so they were known to him, and that made you feel safe going there.

Artovsky was an industrial district, where tanneries and bakeries and small manufacturing plants were common. It's skyline was dominated by windmills, as it was coastal, and thus a fantastic place for generating electricity. It also hosted a large train junction.

"Departing now. Expected arrival at Countryknocks about 16 minutes. Sunrise 8:46AM. Current time 7:28AM."

---

Countryknocks was a rural area, and agricultural. It was the more fancy kind of farming, though, where much of the product went towards tasting shows or the bistro-deli by the magtrains. Only about 70% of it's produce went to Corriwen Commons.

It was also the second most sparsely built-up area of Corriwen, and you could tell. Where Artovsky was people chugging along their jobs, noise and economy, this was sleepy hamlets and small drawn carriages waving at the train. The station even had a market! You'd never seen a market at one before, in your short new existence. It was only being set up as you arrived, but was set to open soon. Chocolate and tea and rockbeans and wine, and such things, all laid out for sale.

Well, not sale. The way currency works in Corriwen is different to some other places. Essentially, the Commons Reserve regulates a system where you promise to deposit a thing of equal use in the Commons for everything you "purchase", and you receive a receipt with the "purchases" that has vouchers for various public services. That way, buying things guarantees that something of equal value gets back in circulation, and the voucher on the receipt serves as an incentive for economic activity. Several other nations have similar systems, prime among them Nozotia to the north and Tengchun to the far far east.

343 gently prodded you away from looking at date fruits at the market. "It's not open yet, silly Rosie. We can come back later, I promise."

You beeped. "Grr. Fine, miss. We better."

Atlas giggled. "Sassy."

343 beeped at him. She unfurled a large paper map, which was odd.

"Why paper?" you asked, before you could prevent yourself.

343 beeped indignantly. "It's rustic. Like the cafe I'm taking you to! They hand 'em out..."

"I see, miss. You wanna get use out of the free stuff." You put a smirk in your voicebox.

Atlas hid a giggle.

"AAAAAnyway," said 343, patently ignoring him, "there should be a walkpaving to the coffee shop this way."

She pointed the wrong way, according to the map.

"Or that way."

You and Atlas shared a knowing glance. 343 didn't know how to read a paper map. That was funny.

"You two will be the shutdown of me." sighed 343. "It's this way."

The paving was irregular, and Atlas nearly sprained his ankle several times. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon now.

"There we go!" said 343, very suddenly. "The cafe!"

It was a large building, overlooking a sudden cliff drop. You didn't realise you were on a mountain and suddenly felt queasy. It dissipated once you looked away from the edge.

The facade of the building had a large red berry, and stylised logo text reading Hills Crescent Berry Farm Bistro. What a satisfying name to say out loud.

"Oh hey, I remember this place." said Atlas. "Rosie and I went here a couple years ago when we first started dating."

You had no idea, but remembering that you were dating him made your vents open blushily. Atlas noticed, and looked concerned.

"Hey, sweet bot, it's okay. I don't have to talk about that?"

You shook your head. "No, it's just... wow, we really are dating. That feels really nice."

Atlas giggled softly and cupped the steel sides of your headframe. "I wouldn't rather it any other way, silly thing. I love you." He looked relieved that it was that, and not something else. You beeped indignantly as your vents opened far enough to nearly blow his arms away.

A waiter from the cafe approached then. "Hi! Table for 3?"

343 nodded. "Me and the lovebugs, yup."

The waiter giggled. "My name's Corwyn. Can I get you cuties something to drink?"

Corwyn led you to a small table overlooking the cliffside. This was different to your last experience with a cafe, which was counter service. Corwyn was a small robot, and he wore an apron with a small badge pinned to it. A flag of blue, pink, white, pink, blue. It rang a bell. Atlas ordered a smoothie with the farm's signature berries, and 343 got some earl grey. You needed more time to decide.

As Cor (his preferred shortening) buzzed off, Atlas looked about to burst with something happy. "Hey. Hey! Rosie, did you see his badge?"

You tilted your headframe. "Yeeeeeees....?"

343 prodded Atlas in the side of his shoulder. "Ow, fuck- Oh, you wouldn't know. That's the trans flag!"

"Oh?" you said, "I think I'm... that, too?"

343 giggled. "Yes, silly. Did ya think there weren't others like you?"

You blushed, your vents opening. "Well, I..."

Atlas looked indignant at 343. "Don't be mean to her, 343. Rosie, when the Synthesis happened in the 3rd century, it was extremely common for organics to become robots and simultaneously switch genders. You did it back then, and so did he!"

Ohhh. It dawned on you then, and if bots could consider crying, you would maybe come close.

Cor approached again, carrying Atlas's berry smoothie, the earl grey, and what looked like a taster tray of berry-based beverages. He winked his heads-up display at you. 

"I brought you a taster tray! On the house. Here's our snacks menu. Oh, silly me, we also have full meals if any of y'all want." He handed a small paper laminated in wax to 343, before trundling off to greet new diners.

Atlas and 343 looked at you glaringly. You tasted the first option, a white berry fizzy mix, and it was really really nice.

Atlas and 343 continued to glare, and you caught their eyes. "Whassa matter?" you asked, innocently.

343 beeped. "We have a silly bot on our hands, Atlie."

Atlas laughed gently. "He was flirting with you, Rosie."

You beeped and your vents opened dramatically. Now that you thought about it, it did feel a bit like the romantic comedies on netvision videos.

You put down the next berry-based beverage, a pink mixture with another fruit, and stared at the table. "Well... he is... he's cute."

Your Carer laid his arms on the table and rested his head on them cutely. "You wanna get his Uninet code?"

Your processor threads scrambled for a second. "I... I dunno! Aaaaa. Look, Miss 343 and Atlas, sunrise!"

Atlas smirked and looked out the window. The sun was indeed rising, about five minutes after schedule. It was beautiful. The farmlands glistened with fresh dew in the orange light, and the forests further out were lit up in their autumn glow. The metal magtrain rails running perpendicular to the forest had a sheen to them.

Atlas nodded. "Yes, silly bot, it's very pretty. Almost as pretty as you."

Your vents shot open. Is everyone on a mission to torment me today???

343 picked up the snacks menu, saving you. 

"Oh, the fritters with syrup sound really nice!" said Atlas, looking over her shoulder. "And clotted cream! I haven't had that since my trip to Kallnstadt."

"What is clotted cream, even?" asked 343, "it sounds... Well, a little bizarre."

Atlas laughed. "It's a dairy delicacy from the north. They heat up heavy cream partway, then stir it until it becomes butterlike, but still tastes like heavy cream. It goes well with pancakes."

"Oh, that... sounds really tasty, actually." you said. Not that robots could taste as much as humans, but you needed to recharge after all the blushing.

"See? Rosie agrees with me!" said Atlas, and 343 rolled her optical sensors.

Just then, Cor approached, and oh damnit your vents opened up in a blush. Atlas smirked at you lovingly.

"Hi again, sweets. Can I get ya something to eat?"

Atlas nodded. "Two plates of redberry fritters with syrup, and if you could get extra clotted cream?"

"For you and the bot in the pretty dress?"

eep!

"Yup!" replied Atlas, winking at you. 343 wasn't wearing a dress, was she? Oh, no, she was in fucking jeans and a sportsball t-shirt. Gosh.

343 ordered a plate of fried potatoes.

"Got it!" said Cor, "fritters for Atlas and sweet Rosie, and fried wedges for 343." he trundled off.

"He's really, really direct, isn't he?" you said, trying to make conversation.

343 rolled her sensors. "Rosie, if you don't give that bot your Uninet code, I'll yank your charger at 2am."

Atlas laughed. "As your Carer it is my responsibility to know when you gotta do something... and I agree with 343."

Gaaaah.

You beeped grumpily.

"Cute." Atlas said, making it worse.

"Okay fine." you said, "I'll... go watch the sunrise, and hope he joins me."

Atlas giggled. "Silly thing. I'll join you soon."

You clambered up from the table, and went out the door on the balcony. It was a beautiful view, and you were glad you'd escaped their sweet torment that easily. Plus, fresh air on your chassis was really nice.

Then Cor appeared, and your vents opened. He was actually kinda cute; he had bright green sensors, and a large bar-style headframe. His voicebox was a chirpy one.

"Can I get you anything, Rosie?" he asked. You beeped, wondering how he knew your name."

"Oh!" he said, "343 made a booking for you all. She comes here quite often when she isn't working."

That makes sense. "No thanks, I'm fine out here." you said. Cor tilted his head bar.

"Your food will be ready in about 10 minutes. Mind if I sit out here too?"

You beeped, and he seemed to hear, and you nodded. He trundled next to you.

You sat in still silence with him for a couple minutes, the way bots sometimes do. Then, a bell rang from the kitchen, and he beeped in an oh before I go sort of way and left a piece of paper with you.

It was his Uninet code.

---