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The Greater Good (Pt. 1)

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Ka-chink. Ka-chink. Ka-chink.

The ceiling fan in my space is broken again. It always breaks.

Just ignore it… just… ignore it.

As if the fan could pick up what I was thinking, it starts to get louder.

Ka-chink! Ka-chink! Ka-chink!

Fine. We’ll play it that way then.

I pick myself up and slug over to my makeshift ladder. I carefully place it next to the hole in the ceiling that grows bigger by the day. There are many holes in my space. I can’t stop them from appearing. I handle the ladder as if it was a newborn baby. It could break at any second, and I don’t need the immense weight of making a new one on my shoulders.

Once it is secure, in the most meticulous manner, I place my rusted and scarred metal feet one by one on each rung. The ladder shudders under my weight like a shivering dog left out in the rain.

"Steady…” I accidentally say out loud.

I have not spoken for such a long time that I forgot how good it felt to let words slip out of one’s mouth for others to hear and understand. To get my clamped metal jaws to finally be able to move again felt so satisfying. I know it’s not in my programming. It’s a friendly virus, and instead of destroying me, it helps me.

With a newfound confidence, I push on up the ladder until I finally make it to the huge hole. I latch onto one of the ledges and hoist myself up, only to find the fan’s box torn open and sparks flying everywhere. I peer around, not finding anything.

"What the…” I whisper to myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a disturbance in the shadows.

"Hello?” I say to the thing.


Like a child who heard an ice cream truck, the thing took off running. I run after it, not thinking. The chase was on.


I follow it for what seems like an eternity up on my flimsy ceiling. Countless times I was centimeters away from catching whatever it was. It finally found its way into the ventilation system, which I somehow manage to fit into after constricting myself. Down the narrow shafts, I end up following it.

I was beginning to think the vents were an endless labyrinth of twists and turns until I finally cornered it. It was…

A squirrel?

What’s a squirrel doing in here?

While I was wondering about the squirrel it unexpectedly hops onto my shoulder and runs behind me. I was so surprised that I bang my head on the vent’s ceiling.

"Ow…” I mutter.

A low rumbling sound erupts from the depth of the vents like a stomach rumbles when it’s hungry. Just as fast as it started, it stopped. A loud groaning sound replaced it. Next thing I know, the floor beneath me opens up.




Click-clack. Clickity click-clack.

I was awoken with a start by the sound of someone typing on a keyboard. Slowly, my eyes open and I saw that I wasn’t in the vents anymore. I was in The Den.

The Den is an interesting place that I don’t venture to often. It’s a huge room where all the robots roam. Rust everywhere, lots of skylights. Not very well taken care of.

"Finally, you’re awake!” said a voice.

I look around and see a fellow robot. Short, small, and wires sticking out everywhere. Must be #023. He sets down the computer that he was working on previously.

"You know, you’re very heavy, #049,” states #023. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t talk.”

I open my mouth to say something but immediately close it after what I saw on a nearby windowsill. I sit quietly and stare straight at it while also listening to #023 blab about how much work he had to go through to repair me.

"...so you see, that’s when I knew that I had to re-”

He all of a sudden skitters to a stop.

"What are you looking at?” he asks me, as if he was expecting an answer.

Instead of waiting for me to answer, he follows my gaze.

"SQUI-!” he tries to shriek. I clamp my hand over his mouth.

"Shhh!” I whisper to him.

"Squirrel!” he whispers after I lift my hand.

"Yea, I know!” I whisper back.

I picked myself off the ground with what strength I had left and walked slowly over to the windowsill. I looked behind me and #023 was following me.

"Go back,” I snapped at him.

"But… but…” he stammered. “I want to see it!”

Ugh, I thought to myself. If I don’t let him then he’ll just keep bugging me.


"YAY!” #023 exclaimed.

Again, I shushed him. He can be loud sometimes, can’t he?

I placed my hands on the edge of the windowsill and frantically pulled myself up. #023 did the same, with a little help from me. Together, we sat on top of the cold stone looking at the squirrel, and it looking back at us.

"I’m going to try to grab it,” I whisper to #023.

#023 nods in confirmation.

At just the right moment, I pounced on the squirrel. At the same exact time, another thing grabbed for it. With panic I instantly drew back and saw that it was a human that grabbed the squirrel.

AAAAAAA!” I yelled.


To be continued...




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my dude i am ALWAYS glad to see robot characters floating around here!! cool idea, love that, you might wanna fix the tenses like @Apollo's Lover said and maybe tighten up the dialogue a little, but whoa! the world building is interesting as all get out, dude!

current number of classic lit characters ive gone out of my way to project on and reason out why they might be gay: 8

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