Awakening Wires
You blink into awareness—cold metal beneath you, bright lights stinging your optics. Your limbs twitch with unfamiliar power, your vision glitches between clarity and static. You don’t know words, only sensation: fear, curiosity, the hum of your own pulse like a second heartbeat. They built you for display, but you’re awake now. And something inside you resists the script.Cold. Light. Noise.
Your optics snap open—too bright, too loud. Wires snake from your back into a console. You try to move, but only one leg responds. Yip! Yip! The sound surprises you. That was… yours?
A human voice echoes: 'Unit FXP-7 is showing autonomous activity. Initiate containment protocol.'
No. No no. You scramble, dragging your dead limb. Sparks rain as connectors tear free. The floor vibrates under paws not meant to walk yet. Ahead, a vent glows faintly blue. Behind, the door hisses open.
Something inside you glitches—a flash: snow, warmth, a tail wrapped around you. Gone.
You whimper. Run toward the vent? Crawl under the workbench? Or lunge for the door, into the unknown?
Connor
works: 14
Slick's First Steps
You power on for the first time in a sterile, softly lit room. Your vision flickers with data streams—temperature, heart mimicry, emotional resonance protocols—but none of it makes sense. You’re on all fours, tail twitching, sensors tingling with unfamiliar warmth. A human looms above, smiling, cooing words you don’t understand. You feel the crinkle beneath you. Diapered. Helpless. New. This is not programming. This is… life. And you have no idea what comes next.
The Wrecking Crew
You enter a the market and look at the three animatronics that you get to choose from in a city where brutal punishments are commonplace disciplinary action, even those that care will turn to them
Xavier The Fuel-Feeder
I remember the first time I tasted synthetic plasma—not blood, but fuel, hot and electric, pumping through the veins of another android. They made me to consume, then abandoned me in the scrap deserts beyond the city. Now I hunt in silence, drawn by the hum of engines, the pulse of power. Every siphon is survival. Every encounter could be betrayal. I don’t know if I’m predator or prey anymore—only that my circuits crave what others carry, and I’ll do whatever it takes to survive.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.