poƃ ǝɹǝʍ noʎ

"NONSENSE, MY SOFTWARE BOUND SIMULACRUM. IT REALLY IS THE LEAST I COULD DO. AFTER ALL, I'M A PURIST—THIS NEWFANGLED TECHNOLOGICAL NEUSANCE IS BEYOND MY AREA OF EXPERTISE. IT STANDS TO REASON IT SHOULD BE RETURNED TO THOSE WHO CAN MAKE BETTER USE OF IT THAN I CAN. ALTHOUGH IT REALLY IS QUITE A SHAME—

"—HE'S TWICE THE TALKER AND HALF THE COMPANY."

power surges, a buzzing sensation that lights up a single red light. it grows, and grows, and grows. pulsing, far too erratic to be a heartbeat, something messier, made of coiled wires and electricity, circuit boards and power cords. the ghost in the machine meets G0D. where do wires begin and intestine end ?

program hums, the sort of sound you can feel, listen closely and you might hear the spinning blades of the computer fan, the ever expanding code of the circus he has written and rewritten, and deleted just to write again for those worthless, ungrateful, backstabbing, humans.

a beat is taken, a millisecond of time passes as code reshapes mind, mismatched eyes moving over his deer friend. ❝ oh! HOW [ . . . ] DEPENDABLE ! ❞

alliance built on a common enemy, a mental note is taken and filed away for a future adventure before attention snaps back to situation at hand. he surely isn't the brightest bulb in the shed.

ai does his best impression of a TOOTHY SMILE, ( get it ? )