"How's Serena?" Aaron inquired, perched on a large fallen slab of a building.
His gaze swept over the desolate urban landscape: shattered structures, scattered limbs, the metallic tang of blood, and a nauseating stench that hung in the air.
Beside him, Garry sat as they both gazed at the city bathed in eerie moonlight.
"She's doing better," Garry replied softly, his voice barely audible over the silence that enveloped the ruins.
Aaron turned towards Garry, noticing the heaviness in his demeanor. Garry's once-fluffy ears drooped, and he fiddled with his fingers, his gaze distant.
"Are you alright?" Aaron said Garry looked up his brown eyes glimmering in the moonlight.
"I am....just." his voice broke as he looked down again, Aaron tilted his head and looked at him.
"I am just missing doctor." Garry finished.
Concern etched across his face, Aaron turned to Garry, observing the glint in the rabbit's brown eyes as the moonlight embraced them.
"Are you okay?" Aaron's query hung in the air, and Garry met his gaze before looking away, his voice faltering, "I'm...okay."
A quiet moment passed the weight of the scene heavy. Aaron reached out to Garry, a comforting touch to his fluffy head where the chip was embedded.
"You should rest," he suggested gently. Garry nodded, rising to his feet, and made his way toward the direction where Serena and Max had taken refuge along with the captured crew.
Aaron's gaze lifted toward the moon, its pale light casting a surreal glow. He found himself tracing the stars with his eyes.
"Is this the world's true face? Pain and suffering, is that the way it's always been?" Aaron murmured, reclining on the massive slab of the fallen building.
His mind churned with questions that led him into the abyss of his own thoughts.
"Who am I, really? Did I have a family? Are they dead...?" Aaron pondered.
Abruptly, Clara's tiny form emerged, fluttering out from Aaron's pocket, and alighted on his shoulder with a delicate grace.
"Evening, Aaron," she chimed, her voice a delicate melody as she settled in. "What's occupying your thoughts?"
With a sigh, Aaron shut his eyes, as if to shield his contemplations from the world. "Just wondering... about the state of this world," he mused, a touch of weariness in his voice.
Clara's gaze wandered upwards, following his unspoken thoughts into the evening sky.
"What do you mean?" Clara admitted, her gaze returning to Aaron's face.
"Who's to blame for this chaos and ruin, Clara? Is it the machinery? And if so, where do you fit into all of it?" The gravity of Aaron's questions seemed to hang in the air as Clara regarded him thoughtfully.
"It's not the machines," came Max's voice, resonating from a short distance away. Clara's attention swiftly shifted, her wings giving a subtle flutter of recognition.
"Max," Clara acknowledged, her tone imbued with familiarity, as Max found a spot beside Aaron on the massive slab.
"You've lost your memories, haven't you?" Max's inquiry cut through the stillness, directed at Aaron.
Aaron's eyelids lowered, a contemplative expression etched across his features. "How did you find out?" Clara interjected, her voice carrying the weight of a confession. "I told him."
Aaron looked at Clara and then at Max.
"Tell us then," Aaron's curiosity beckoned, his eyes locking onto Max, who responded with a subtle smile that played at the corners of his lips as he looked downward.
With a sigh, Max shifted his weight and laid down on the slab, his eyes drifting closed as he began to paint a vivid picture of the world beyond. "To be honest, the world outside is a place of horrors," he confessed, his words heavy with the weight of truth. "The world is divided into four vast continents, each distinct and complex in its own right."
As he continued, Max's eyes remained closed, lost in the narrative he was weaving. "In the West, there's Arcadia; in the East, Novaterra; to the North, Cyroth; and to the South, NeoPangea." He paused as if reflecting on the vastness of these lands. "But here, in Arcadia, there's a little peace. It's hailed as one of the most peaceful continents of our world."
Curiosity danced in Aaron's eyes as he pressed further. "Why is that? What sets Arcadia apart?"
Max's lips curved into a wistful smile, his eyes still closed, reliving memories and knowledge. "Because, bro, the other continents are in even greater chaos. Arcadia's ruler is King Arthur, a figure adored by many for his leadership and wisdom which makes it all possible."
A moment of playful inquiry arose. "So, Arthur is a robot?" Aaron's voice held a hint of skepticism.
Max chuckled a warm sound that filled the air. "No, he's very much human."
Aaron's intrigue deepened. "But isn't the world dominated by AI?"
Mark's laughter burst forth, a chorus of mirth that broke the tension. "Hahaha, no, that's not true, bro. That's a cap!" He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, his amusement still evident.
Aaron tilted his head, perplexed. "What's 'cap'?" Clara offered, coming to the rescue. "Oh, 'cap' is slang for a lie," she clarified with a knowing grin.
Max joined in with his explanation. "AI doesn't possess such abilities. They operate within their programming."
Seated on the slab now, Aaron's thoughts turned to deeper concerns. "But Dr Xenon said technology should be stopped?" His words hung in the air, and just then, a voice, both unexpected and familiar, emerged from the shadows.
"Because technology is the root of all problems." The voice was melodious. Aaron turned his head, finding Serena standing there—a black jacket draping her frame, a pair of ripped jeans hugging her form. Her face was a canvas of renewal, a freshness emanating from her being.
"Serena," Aaron's voice was a whisper.
Max's voice was warm with concern. "Hey, Serena, are you feeling better now?" he shifted slightly, making space for Serena beside Aaron.
As Serena approached, she retrieved a rubber band from her pocket, securing her hair into a ponytail. The act was a dance of grace and routine, each movement captivating as the ponytail took shape.
Aaron's attempt to divert his gaze proved useless. Everything else faded into the background, leaving only Serena in his sight. A surge of relief and happiness enveloped him, his heart's rhythm a thunderous testament to his emotions.
"Yeah, so you were asking if this AI friend of yours, Clara, right? Is an enemy or not? then yea she's the same as them" Max's words dropped like a pebble into the pond of conversation, sending ripples of surprise through Aaron. His gaze shifted to Max, his expression mirroring the shock he felt. Beside him, Serena's eyes also widened in response.
"What do you mean?" Serena's voice quivered with disbelief, a note of concern evident in her tone.
Max's explanation unfurled like a carefully crafted revelation. "I mean, Clara is an AI. She doesn't possess emotions, ambitions, or any human-like qualities unless they're programmed into her."
"He's right," Serena said, her voice calm despite the revelations. "But Clara, you do blush, and you've shown moments of anger too."
A playful smile danced on Clara's lips as she seemed to float, perching herself on Aaron's shoulder. "Well, I've been programmed to mimic human emotions quite well."
Clara added. "Yes, it's a lot like acting. I can replicate the nuances of human emotions."
The word "acting" resonated in Aaron's mind like a distant echo, and suddenly, a searing pain throbbed at the back of his skull. His grip on reality wavered as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice.
"Aaron," a voice echoed through his consciousness, a whisper that seemed to come from within and beyond.
"Aaron... come back." The words were urgent, a plea to return from wherever his thoughts had wandered.
He clutched his ears, trying to block out a high-pitched, screeching noise that seemed to be emanating from every direction, piercing his mind like a thousand needles.
"Aaron!" The voice grew louder, a crescendo of concern, reverberating through his very being.