What Am I Supposed to Be?: Can I Rise Now?

    A sudden gust of air hit System Error 123 as the black-armored, blue, and grey-furred protogen stepped onto the Soujel Aiship. They had taken a small transport craft from the guild hall to the capital vessel of Avangard. Even from a great distance, the gold and red air city was easy enough to find amongst the clouds. Systor had hoped that since this was one of the more technologically advanced portal worlds, it might have a data chip or someone who could direct them to Dr. Mal’s location. Either way, the protogen didn’t like being in the air like this. Maybe a residual organic memory was locked away due to their missing and corrupted files.

    Unfortunately for Systor, as they looked around, the display on their blue visor lit up with threat alerts every time a construct passed by. Nothing was threatening about the robotic servants. In a way, they were almost like kin to the protogen. However, unlike these fully mechanical beings, Systor was still mostly organic, even with their mostly cybernetic brain. Shaking it off and ignoring the warnings, the visored being started their investigation. 

    They checked several notable inventors’ workshops, but none had heard of Dr. Mal or seen a protogen. Disappointed, Systor was about to board a transport vessel back to the guild ship to leave Avangard when something told them to stay. Almost as if, on some instinct, they knew the answer was here but had not yet presented themselves. Knowing that hiding in the guild ship would make the answers appear and not having a place to stay otherwise, Systor set out to find a temporary job.

    “How do I know you won’t get taken over by whatever is causing the constructs?” the cream-colored paper demon with spiral horns asked. It would be nice to have the extra help, but a partially robot thing made them nervous.

    “Well, Captain Dahn, my operating system works on a closed network. If anyone successfully accesses it without the proper passkey, it’ll shut me down as a fail-safe,” Systor answered, trying to put the ship captain at ease.

    “Good enough for me but I will jettison you off the Cold Advent if that proves not true,” Dahn warned as he slid a bag of coins across the desk. “There’s your advance. You’ll be loading and unloading freight.” 

Moving the heavy boxes was easy with the help of their black metal Support Gauntlets. Their strength boosted tenfold with the gloves active, and their lessened need for rest quickly made Systor one of the most efficient crewmates. As the protogen worked several trips back and forth between the larger ships on the Cold Advent, they started to fall into a steady rhythm of work. The money was good, and it felt right to be on the ship, so they stayed.

Early one morning, an alarm rang out across the Cold Advent, startling everyone aboard. Systor quickly rushed to the top deck to find a bunch of rogue constructs had started to attack the vessel. Not eager to fight, the protogen looked around for any injured that needed help. They pulled a few crewmates to safety and sprayed down their wounds using the medical spray abilities in their Support Gauntlets. As they tried to stay out of the fighting, a protogen resembling Systor landed on the Cold Advent. They had a silver visor that matched their armor and some sort of jet pack.

“Well, I didn’t know I’d have a backup on this mission, much less from the missing Gamma,” the silver-armored protogen laughed as it strolled across the deck.

“Am I Gamma,” Systor inquired as their visor lit up with indicators that this was a friend. If that was true, why were they raiding a ship? Shouldn’t they be saving people? “Who are you? Why are you attacking this ship?”

“It’s me, Argenti, do you not remember me. Oh well, you were always a bit defective and orders are orders,” cackled the new visored combatant. In a flash, they used their jet pack to charge Systor.

Barely managing to get their Support Gauntlets up, the blue visored protogen blocked the initial attack. Systor’s visor lit up with power strain warnings as they tried to use the power gloves to throw Argenti off them. Slowly, the jetpack protogen pushed the gauntleted one towards the edge of the Cold Advent. Systor didn’t want to hurt Argenti as they were a link to home and Dr. Mal. The back of the black armored protogen’s feet starts slipping off the ship and panicking. Systor released a highly pressurized stream of steam from the Support Gaunlets that tore through Argenti’s hands and arms. The silver jetpacked protogen stumbled backward as they were caught in the chest by a narrow burst of vaporized water from System Error 123’s chest plate. Argenti fell to the deck floor as pressurized steam tore a hole through their chest.

“I can still help you,” Systor shouted, offering their hand to their fallen enemy. The only answer that came was for Argenti to grab the gauntlet and initiate a data upload.

A flash of light brought a Systor to a familiar place. It was the training course they had to run day and night until perfecting the run after being fully converted to a protogen.

“Faster and use your jet boosters, Gamma,” Dr. Mal shouted as the cross fox looked on, holding a stopwatch. “Short bursts, though. They take in moisture from the environment and separates the oxygen from hydrogen to produce lift.”

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Systor laughed as they bounded from wall to wall using the jet booster’s assistance. At the top of the wall, the protogen used a significant boost to get over the top.
    
    “I said short bursts! If you use too much, it draws water from your tank and dries you out,” Dr. Mal growled, watching her creation disobey. “Gamma! If you don’t listen, we will lose the war, and AI will destroy all organics!”

    The memory disappeared, and Systor stood on the Cold Advent again. A readout on the blue visor informed the protogen that Jet Booster was operational. Twin propulsion vents appeared on the back of Systor’s black metal chest armor. Argenti let out one last laugh as a countdown appeared on their visor. As the warning popped up, System Error 123 realized the other protogen was about to self-destruct. Grabbing them, Systor used their Jet Boosters to jump far away from the airship. Short bursts weren’t working to get them far enough away when the protogen remembered their new magical ability. Water magic made their tank never empty so they could use the boosts all they wanted. Using the Jet Booster, Systor flew the self-destructing protogen a safe distance to drop them before returning to the Cold Advent.

    Once back on the ship, it was a breeze. All the remaining robots had abandoned the attack. Without their commander, they weren’t able to coordinate correctly. Systor remained on the Cold Advent till it docked with the Soujel again. Taking their last payment the protogen used their new Jet Booster to fly back to the guild ship. They had learned that they were called Gamma by Dr. Mal, and for some reason, other protogens were trying to kill them. The more Systor learned about their past, the more questions it raised.