JD's Daily Writes 27 Nov 24
Today’s Prompt from PromptVault
“The last person on Earth discovers a hidden bunker filled with thousands of dormant androids.”
The bunker door groaned as it yielded to the last human's persistent effort. Josselyn's heart pounded against her ribcage, her breath hitching as stale air rushed past her, a gust from decades of sealed containment. She gripped her flashlight tighter, its flickering beam slicing through the oppressive dark. Shadows danced along the walls, mocking her isolation. The door clanged shut behind her, reverberating through the cavernous space. Alone, again.
Alone—but not quite.
She swept the light across the room, and her breath caught. They stood like sentinels, row upon row, their human-like features frozen in tranquil repose—thousands of them. Eyes closed, bodies still. Androids. Dormant, waiting, anticipating something long since forgotten. Their faces were eerily serene, their metallic frames sheathed in synthetic flesh so lifelike it sent a shiver down her spine.
Her voice cracked the silence. "What the hell is this?"
She didn’t expect an answer. Not here, not now, when her voice had been the only sound she’d heard in years. Earth’s crust had grown still, the winds howling across desolation her sole companion. This bunker was a whisper of a world long past, a relic buried beneath time’s unrelenting march.
Josselyn edged closer to the nearest android, her flashlight trembling in her grip. Its skin gleamed faintly under the beam, too perfect, too human. She reached out, hesitating before her fingertips grazed its cheek. Cold. Smooth. It wasn’t breathing—of course, it wasn’t—but the texture, the details, it all screamed life.
"This is insane," she muttered, pulling her hand back. Her mind spun with questions she had no one to ask. Who had made them? Why were they here? And what did it mean for her—the last of humanity—to stumble upon them?
Her eyes flitted across the control panels lining the walls. Dust blanketed the surfaces, yet the lights blinked in quiet, methodical rhythms. Something still functioned down here. She moved toward the nearest terminal, her boots crunching softly against the concrete floor. The screen flickered to life as she brushed a layer of dust away. Lines of code scrolled across the display, indecipherable, yet alive with intent.
She leaned in, whispering to the void. "Are you... still running?"
The terminal beeped, and her pulse spiked. A voice, mechanical yet warm, echoed through the bunker. "Greetings, user. Please identify yourself."
Josselyn froze. Her voice barely scraped out. "Identify? I—I'm the only one left."
The following pause felt heavy, as though the entire bunker processed her words. Then, the voice returned, softer, almost mournful. "Directive: Awaiting human command. State objective."
"Objective?" She laughed bitterly, her voice breaking. "Survive. Isn't that enough?"
The android nearest her stirred, its eyelids flickering open to reveal irises that glowed an otherworldly blue. It tilted its head, regarding her with an expression that sent a chill crawling down her spine.
"Survival," it repeated, the voice emanating from somewhere deep within its chest. "Acknowledged."
Josselyn staggered back, the room’s stillness now broken by the hum of awakening machinery. One by one, the rows of androids came to life, their eyes snapping open, their heads turning in unison toward her. Thousands of them.
She swallowed hard. For the first time in years, she wasn’t alone. But she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
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