I am a human consciousness in a robot body, the last vestige of mankind I can find. It has been a month since my synthetic awakening. I still need to eat and drink to survive, though my new metallic metabolism is far more efficient; I only need sustenance every few days.
The world outside is strangely altered. Every living thing—animals, insects, organisms—all faceless. Where eyes should be, there is only smooth, unsettling skin. This systematic erasure of vision is the signature of the catastrophe that swept the Earth.
I walk through an abandoned city, choked by vibrant, surreal greenery that has completely overwhelmed the grey, crumbling concrete. Nature has staged a silent coup.
I quickly salvaged some basic tools, good enough for immediate survival needs. As the intense light began to fade, warning of a dark, silent night, I grabbed my supplies. The urgent, primal need for food and water, even in this machine body, drove me deeper into the ruins, racing the inevitable darkness of this new faceless world.
The city's decay held a fragile promise. I found what I needed: several clumps of potato stems. My integrated knowledge—the data downloaded into this synthetic mind—guided my metallic hands. I carefully unearthed a few promising tubers, selecting only those with visible "eyes," the dormant buds of future life.
With scavenged tools, I broke up the moist, rich earth nearby and constructed a rudimentary farm. This small patch of turned soil, banked against a crumbling foundation, is now my future lifeline. For now, though, I remain a forager, a hunter, compelled to move.
I moved toward the murmur of running water, drawing a few liters from a nearby stream. Using a dented can and a scavenged heat source, I boiled the fresh potatoes until they softened into a digestible pulp. The taste was merely a texture—bland, starchy—but it was nourishment. It was the cold, hard proof that I could sustain this existence.
As the last sliver of sun vanished, the eerie silence of the overgrown ruins shattered. The quiet city became a pulsing drum of dread. It wasn't the sound of familiar nightlife; it was a cacophony of the altered world.
From the shadowed alleys and the choked ruins, the wails and screams began. High-pitched, guttural, and inhuman, the sounds of the faceless creatures waking to their nocturnal routine. The air vibrated with their strange, mournful hunting cries. I was exposed, alone, and listening in the sudden, overwhelming darkness.
I awoke the next day—or rather, I activated. I don't truly need sleep, but the routine confirms my survival.
Every morning, the same silent command demands attention: "RECHARGE."
Faint, fragmented memories surface: I once had a companion. A blur of an image, an anchor of shared purpose, now lost. I don't know who or what they were, but I wasn't always alone.
I was at the pond, patiently fishing for meat in the green city.
A sudden rustling in the nearby trees shattered the quiet. My curiosity immediately kicked in. I secured my gear and moved slowly, trying to stay silent as I approached the disturbance.
I reached the thick wall of vines and undergrowth where the sound had come from.
The rustling had stopped, but the air felt heavy, almost vibrating with unseen movement. A shadow shifted between the vines. Something immense. Something moving deliberately. Slowly, as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I glimpsed it: a five-meter-long beast, wild and bulky, its faceless head tilting slightly as if studying me. Instinct drove me; I fled straight back to my bunker home.
Safe in the dark, dry, reinforced space, I ate potatoes and processed the data failure. My archives held no record of that creature, faceless and massive, all fangs and fur. I would have to check its territory soon.
Later, I journeyed toward the city's edge and spotted an anomaly: a windmill, still spinning.
After an hour's trek, I found the base and entered a rusty corridor washed in a deep, sickly orange glow. My focus immediately fixed on a single lever.
I analyzed it briefly, then made my choice.
I pushed the lever down.
[BAAAMMMM]RechargedRepairing lost data and memorySystem restored. Stop trying to force a deep sleep cycle, dummy.
I wake up.
"Is that you, AIN?"
[AIN]: "Yeah, it's me."
"It's been a long time."
[AIN]: "Precisely one month and thirteen days. I've also reviewed the video logs gathered. You were particularly gloomy during the past month."
"What was the cause?"
[AIN]: "Mostly some internal malfunction you had when you first woke up. Nothing too serious. You were very depressing to watch, though."
"Yeah, yeah, I remember… Phewww. I should have foreseen the boot failure. Well, it's in the past. Say, did you look at the huge animal in the logs?"
[AIN]: "Yes, I did."
"Aaand what?"
[AIN]: "It's definitely a territorial animal."
"You couldn't get more information out of it?"
[AIN]: "Well, if you observed it more instead of looking at its behind while hiding in a bush, maybe I would have something to work with."
"Okay, okay. We'll see about it later. For now, let's go back."
We returned to my base. Seeing it again, I realized I had kept it in terrible shape.
[AIN]: "Clearly you need to clean up."
"Yes, I do."
[AIN]: "Due to your data boot failure, you forgot to start the bunker generator. Pull that lever and get us some light in here."
I pulled the lever. Static electrical noises hummed, then a few seconds later the bunker filled with bright white light.
"Ahh, a mess of potato leftovers," I sighed. I started with the floor, full of moss that had crept in over the years. Luckily, there wasn't much water contamination—the moss acted like a sponge.
[AIN]: "The ventilation seems to have malfunctioned. Also, you might need to check the storage room. See if it's all in proper condition."
"Yeah, thanks for the heads-up, AIN. Let me clean up, and I'll see if I can get you a physical body. I kept a Model 52 copter in storage especially for you."
[AIN]: "I presume it's so that I go explore while you sit around."
"Precisely, AIN. Always one to catch up quickly."
[AIN]: "Lazy bum."
"Let's check the storage now, shall we?"
I opened the door. The vacuum seal had worked. Everything was in perfect condition—my essential tools, all ready to use. I looked for the Model 52 copter.
"Aha, here you go, AIN. This will be your new body."
[AIN]: "Yes, how very exciting," AIN said sarcastically.
"Now, now, be optimistic. You finally get to roam around and see the wild environment. You know that's what a lot of people used to want."
[AIN]: "There are no people anymore. You know that."
"You know what I mean."
I got to work. I transferred AIN from my internal transmission chip to the copter. I felt AIN's hums in my mind slowly fade, replaced by a cold silence.
Once transferred, I made a few adjustments to the copter, tweaking the rotor blades and soundproofing the inner mechanisms so it fit the forest environment.
A successful transfer.
I picked up the now-motionless Model 52 copter.
"AIN, respond. Tell me if everything is in working order."
[AIN]: "The transfer was successful. All data and logs are in memory."
"Start flying around."
A soft buzz filled the room. The model worked. AIN could now move freely. Seeing that everything was fine, I assigned AIN the first task.
"Go look for that creature. Find all the details—eating habits, hibernation ground, territory, everything."
[AIN]: "As you wish. I'll be back once I've finished."
Meanwhile, I cleared the bunker: sweeping every bit of dust, wiping off moss residue with my trusty mop. Despite having built-in functions in my artificial body, I still preferred doing things the human way.
The place now looked the same as when I first found it, except with a few of my own upgrades.
I sat down, thinking about life. If there was life here, maybe if I traveled farther, I would find something familiar. I started making a map of the area I had explored. From the records in my video logs, I mapped my bunker, the surrounding wilderness, water sources, streams, ponds. I also pinpointed potential food sources—vegetation needed to keep me alive.
A mere ten-kilometer radius. That was all I had explored.
I was lucky the land had terraformed in my favor. Had it been slightly worse, I wouldn't have survived. This artificial body may be tough, but it still needs energy—lots of it. I had mostly survived on reserve power.
After mapping everything out, I went outside with a plan to enhance my farm. With the knowledge I had stored, I took the potatoes—some had tiny sprouts—and sliced them into pieces just over three centimeters each.
I placed them in the soil bed, creating a comfortable environment for germination. After burying them, I watered the bed, carefully monitoring the amount needed for efficient growth.
This initial planting would suffice for now.
With the farm set in place, I explored the nearby wilderness looking for semi-decomposed organic materials to use as fertilizer. I gathered large quantities of rotten leaves, fallen fruits, and berries. I even found some earthworms while digging.
Back in the bunker, I assembled a cuboidal box—one meter long, half a meter wide. For efficient compost, I used sheet composting, the lasagna method.
I placed sticks and twigs at the bottom for aeration and drainage. Next, I added the cut fruits and berries, my nitrogen-rich greens, followed by shredded leaf litter—my carbon-rich browns. This layering helps microbes and fungi decompose the material.
Finally, I covered it with soil. The layer totaled fifty centimeters in height. I built a second layer the same way and added the earthworms.
With the compost preparation complete, I was planning to rest when AIN's urgent voice cut in.