The stairs look as unsafe as the first time I used them, ill go to the second floor later. I catch myself on my hands as I fall toward the door, lets see what crawling is like? Left front, right back, right front, left back, a weird sense of vertigo as one of my free hands rotated up to pull the door handle. A weirder feeling of my back legs reconfiguring to make quadrupedal motion easier, and a headache to wrap it all up in. Shaking my head, (I'm doing that a lot). I walk down a short hallway with several doors, till I reach the one at the end.
There is something here, that I NEED.
I need to open the door, I need to see the-, the damage. It's a large thing, made of a metal that looks like dull iron but so much stronger. Reaching up to the keypad,-
I don't remember the combination.
I don't remember the combination, I don't remember the combination, I DON'T REMEMBER THE COMBINATION.
How long have I been here? The keypad is set into the wall by the door, it has a screen that shows where the-. . .
I don't know what this means. I can't read the numbers. Why am I terrified, why do I need this door to open, where am I, who am I, what am I?!
Wallace's shaking stills as he answers the last question.
I am body $ rrddt-37 the last one built, with however much greymatter survived the conversion, rejuvenation, and stabilization. My memories are broken.
For a time Wallace just stands in front of the door trying to sort out what he remembers, what parts of the bunker he can access, and why it is so difficult to think.
"I want to see the sun."
What is the sun? The sun is outside. What is outside? The door at the top floor leads to it. I turn around and go back to the stairs. Quadrupedal motion is getting easier the more I use it, I think ill keep using it. Swiftly crawling up the stairs, I reach the top balcony and open the door. Inside is a warehouse. It feels familiar, the neat stacks of boxes, mostly empty now, the massive tanks of various liquids, most gages in the red. The place looks hollow, a single massive room filled with empty storage mediums of every kind.
I was almost out of everything.
This thought sparks a memory; alien sensations of a body not my own, with only two eyes, and so weak, but I remember its hands (why are there only two?) Deep in the flesh of my chest, except it isn't me yet, I'm incomplete, my torso is only partially grown, and the only things finished are my legs. The room is where I woke up, where I was born, but fully active! Lights, numbers, words I don't kno-remember. . . It gives me a headache.
Putting the memory out of mind I walk up to a box, and rip it up. It's so FUN! Jumping, twisting, shaking stuff like a growlithe with a chew toy, so fun so fun!
I just realized something!
I'm a kid again!
Everything is new and exciting, and there's a whole world to explore! Magic to learn! Battles to fight! I flop on my back laughing from my speaker and my mouth. It sounds horrifying but I don't care! Focus, I'm looking for the sun, where's the door?
It is a large door. It dwarfs me, almost reaching the ceiling 20 ft above the floor. My mind is blank. How do I open this thing? The doors had. . . ROLLERS! Yes rollers, and their own. . . . Track! Like a train, what's a train? Focus! There are handles on the door, as well as a massive piston powered arm that I just know doesn't have any power left to make this easy.
I need to open this thing myself. The door is simple but, so big. It feels awkward trying to open it, my instincts say I need to stand on my hindlegs, It says I need to flex my arms in a way that pulls a set of mussles to generate leverage. At the same time, bracing my back and other leg at an angle to the wall by the door, and the floor respectively. I cant do any of that right now. I don't know how to stand bi- . . . Two-feet, well enouph to leverage footwork, my arms aren't strong enouph to leverage the door, and, and im not strong enouph, I don't know how to leverage my armes, they feel so- so- slippery! I don't remember what connects my arms to these- these power orbs- bearing- things! Now that I'm thinking about it, I can barely move these things in the way I want to, they both want to occupy the same spot, and when I'm not focusing on one, the other dangles limply like a dead. . . Magicarp!
I need to learn how to, DO everything. I need to teach myself what I forgot, I. . I planned for something like this. My room, the four colored walls, that's where answers are.
This is so FUN! The feeling of moving, jumping onto and off walls when I hit the corners, it almost makes me forget why I'm going to my room. But not quite! The door is already familiar to me, or was it always familiar and I just now remembered that? Focus, what am I looking for? What do you store memories in? No, no that doesn't feel right.
The room is cluttered, dusty, but there is a pattern to the disorder. The shelves are what I turn to first, they feel . . . correct. The bottom shelves contain big solid items they have hard casings, but are easily damaged if dropped, The headache that comes with that info I'm trying to ignore. The containers let themselves be opened after being poked and tugged in various places until the . . latch is caught and clicks open.
What are these?
These rectangular boxes contain my memories? They are cold, were they kept chilled? That feels right, it makes them work better! I need to remember; now how do they work?
My arm draws attention to itself. It. . changed itself, I changed it . . without knowing I did? I don't understand. The concepts and information was too much, advanced mechatronics and cybernetics is not something a newborn can grasp.
It hurts, It hurts, It hurts, stop thinking, stop thinking!
For the second time I wake up on the floor without knowing how I got there!
This is strange. No, can't think about it, where are my memories? Ah! Scattered across the floor! I must have hit the box when I fell. Let's see, how do I see them? AH! Its so obvious! They just slot into my USB ports like this-.