Leaves swirl around my boots as I stand in the ruins of a world now lost. Nothing
moves without wind power. No automatons hurry around completing a mundane task.
Sites meant for praising the gods are everywhere. You could call me a misanthrope, for
my feelings toward the human race for allowing this wondrous, virile place to be
destroyed are contemptuous.
My tracking watch beeps. I wish beyond anything that I could ignore the summoning and continuing viewing the immaculateness of destruction. I glance down. Through the glare on the tiny screen, I am able to understand the gist of the message: Where are you? Get back here. I sigh and trudge back toward my world of distrust and feigned power.
Within minutes, I'm standing upon the Autocrat's palace stairs. My head is down. Everyone who visits the palace is required to take this stance as they await a response. The Autocrat does not handle disobedience.
"Put your arm on the table." A harsh whisper surrounds me as a metallic surface slides out of the wall. I inevitably obey, and restraints latch around me as a smaller automaton rolls onto the surface to perform an autopsy-like task on my watch. My personal information, recent places, and identification card are pulled up holographically. I reminisce the days when such security measures weren't installed. Eventually, I am released, and the doors open.
The Autocrat is waiting for me on the stairs with a genteel smile. "Visiting the autonomy, are we? I hope you have been reminded that people cannot be trusted without a ruler."
I sigh and say, "Of course." One day, I am supposed to graduate from apprentice to autocrat. I'm not sure if I even wish for that future anymore. I dream of a world where feminists are allowed to walk free. I start up the stairs toward my quarters, but apparently the Autocrat has other ideas.
"Not so fast. I found this in your quarters." A rather small book is held up. I recognize it immediately. It's the book I stole from a burning four weeks ago; it's a book from the genre of ancient mythology. I search my mind for a lie to tell. What could save me from this? I find nothing, and simply stare stupidly at the Autocrat.
"Do you not support humanism? Do you believe in this rubbish?" As his voice gets louder, the book begins to shake. When he finishes speaking, he throws the book toward the ground and looks at me again.
"It's a shame. I'll have to find a new apprentice, and that sounds incredibly difficult." With that, I find him pushing me down the stairs. He is aided by two larger automatons, and within the minute, I find myself outside the only home I've ever known. Strangely unaffected, my feet immediately turn and lead me away. As I realize where I'm going, I find myself jubilant. I see the ruins once again in the distance, and I know this is what I've wanted since my first sight of them. I will find the autonomy. I will recreate the immaculate.
My tracking watch beeps. I wish beyond anything that I could ignore the summoning and continuing viewing the immaculateness of destruction. I glance down. Through the glare on the tiny screen, I am able to understand the gist of the message: Where are you? Get back here. I sigh and trudge back toward my world of distrust and feigned power.
Within minutes, I'm standing upon the Autocrat's palace stairs. My head is down. Everyone who visits the palace is required to take this stance as they await a response. The Autocrat does not handle disobedience.
"Put your arm on the table." A harsh whisper surrounds me as a metallic surface slides out of the wall. I inevitably obey, and restraints latch around me as a smaller automaton rolls onto the surface to perform an autopsy-like task on my watch. My personal information, recent places, and identification card are pulled up holographically. I reminisce the days when such security measures weren't installed. Eventually, I am released, and the doors open.
The Autocrat is waiting for me on the stairs with a genteel smile. "Visiting the autonomy, are we? I hope you have been reminded that people cannot be trusted without a ruler."
I sigh and say, "Of course." One day, I am supposed to graduate from apprentice to autocrat. I'm not sure if I even wish for that future anymore. I dream of a world where feminists are allowed to walk free. I start up the stairs toward my quarters, but apparently the Autocrat has other ideas.
"Not so fast. I found this in your quarters." A rather small book is held up. I recognize it immediately. It's the book I stole from a burning four weeks ago; it's a book from the genre of ancient mythology. I search my mind for a lie to tell. What could save me from this? I find nothing, and simply stare stupidly at the Autocrat.
"Do you not support humanism? Do you believe in this rubbish?" As his voice gets louder, the book begins to shake. When he finishes speaking, he throws the book toward the ground and looks at me again.
"It's a shame. I'll have to find a new apprentice, and that sounds incredibly difficult." With that, I find him pushing me down the stairs. He is aided by two larger automatons, and within the minute, I find myself outside the only home I've ever known. Strangely unaffected, my feet immediately turn and lead me away. As I realize where I'm going, I find myself jubilant. I see the ruins once again in the distance, and I know this is what I've wanted since my first sight of them. I will find the autonomy. I will recreate the immaculate.
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