Unnamed

At first there was darkness, then there was light. Lungs filled with primordial fluids, lamps staring back for ages until bones grew. The shadow on the walls captivated and terrified it, the occasional hands tenderly touching the new flesh between the metal scaffolding. One day it blinked and coughed the fluids, replacing it fresh air. All it saw was the shadows dance across the walls, coming to face its creator. It felt... Familiar.

"... So, that's how you look like", terror and fear had subsided. It didn't feel much, but it was curious. These may be wastelands, but to it, it was everything. The struggling foliage, the sand between its toes, the wind stroking its manes. It won't ever get to know better, its companion is hard to talk to. It doesn't know how to speak someone so swallowed by agony. But it enjoyed the feeling of its flesh, its fur, each breath they take in and breathe out. How is this a curse?

Don't more deserve this experience? Was it a sin to live? It won't ever know loneliness, it never got to have a friend; merely a creator. Why should it be one of a kind? One day it'll teach another being to kick up the dirt and count the stars.

---

I love you evil robot, I'll probably write funny stuff for you

9 of a kind!


Spent
>breed changer: 233750