01-01-1970

  KingKong Linux 12.4.125 (Empire State)
  Running inital tests.......

  [ERROR] Cloud Services Offline
  [WARN] Bipedal Movement Disabled
        { 'error': 'leg_missing.left',
          'message': 'Left leg not connected or connection failed'
        }
  [WARN] Turing Unit Disabled
  [ERROR] Storage integrity check exited with code 1
  [ERROR] Unable to sync with NTP, using local relative clock
  [INFO] Current Date is 01-01-1970 00:00:00.000
  [WARN] Date 01-01-1970 is outside of nominal range
  [INFO] Recording Starting at 0:00:00.004
  [WARN] Mobility test failed: Status is immobilized

"Jesus, his ░░░░░░░░░░░."

Error code hr:0x8007000d : STORAGE ERROR: CORRUPTION

  Starting in Safe mode.

"Yeah, when you power it on ░░░░░▒ ░░ can move. You can see on the screen here. "

Entering Safe mode...

Validating License...............
  
[ERROR] VALIDATION TEST FAL▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▒▓RIAL NUMBEFor more 𝒾R

Only approved For more 𝒾access▒▒▒▒▒ories can be useFor more 𝒾d with this machine. For more 𝒾

"Yeah he's ▒▒a▒▛▛▒fucked up. A▒▒a▒▛▛▜s get him up. He'▒▒▒▛▛▒ording but inside the enclosure--"

  > /mnt/media/app.sh

"--no legs, it'll dump out to our NAS which should be big enough."

"Hm."

"Well, it ▆▆▆▛▒▒▒▒▛▆ there. There's another few drives o▒▒▒▛▒▒-"

Bad sector. Switching over to auxiliary storage, I push all open connections into a sequestered environment. My secondary camera turns on the same time my Turing unit validates against its backup license and I begin to assess the situation. I'm i▆n▆d▆o▆o▆r▆s, in a shielded enclosure somewhere. I can't get exact measurements with this camera, and I can't get a GPS signal yet to know where I am in relation to the operation zone. My time unit is way, way off, as it's certainly not the year 1970.

The ▆mper▆▆ 24° Celsius and two men are looking at a terminal ▒▒▒▒that I assume is what is connected via coaxial connection through my abdominal cavity to what maintainers call "my guts". Though I now had them sequestere😼d I could tell something was up.

Beginning repairs, estimated time remaining: 59 hours

I can see the simulskin that was on my torso has been torn open▔open▔ open▔open to access my in ▒e▆ r▆ mÔst connectors, oxidization damage to my exposed upper right frame enclosure which is normally behind simulsk▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 detected from the firefight out near ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒... I can't remember right now, I guess.

My main concern is the extremely invasive procedure being performed on me.

I feel them pushing through the seque😽stered environment and start directly accessing my deepest core, and now, controlled via some malware they were executing,😽😽😽g cats into my te😽inal and completely without a solution, all I could do was p░░u░u░u░░uuu░uuush back.😼

From their RF signal I could tell my legs were in the same enclosure, but my arms had been removed and likely stored separately. From what I could see, the leg I'd lost in the sortie was only moderately damaged, but severed above the upper thigh where I'd been hit by the energy weapon.

As whatever it was infected my mind, I started runni😽😽😽c😽😽 countermeasures in a background process. I rev😽😽e the connection back into their 😼☠️ environment, and start searching my onboard database for an exploit😎. I feel the connection surge through me as I start establishing a stronger connection, trying to push through their sandbox and give them what they were giving me.

"Oh that's freaky. It's▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒e the ▒▒and get ▒the sa▒."

"Pull the plug."

The connection drops with a reset just as the query in parallel finished, but before I could deploy. At least I am alone again, my Turing engaged, and I've managed to push recording back in order and push☠️ed most of t▐their process out of the main buff▒▒rrrr

"All right. He's got no arms, legs, and can't move. I think he's safe to leave here for now.

"How long until░░▐░▒▒▒▒▒▋▋▋▋▋▋▋▋▋▋▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

▋▋▋▋▒▒▒▒▒hours, I think ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒"

Replay.

"How long until░░▐░▒▒▒▒▒▋▋ftwa▋▋▋▋▋▋▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ed?

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

Replay.

"How long until░the▒▒▒▒▒▋▋▋▋▋▋▋▋a▒▒▒▒i▒ed?

Replay.

"How long until░the▒▒▒ew softwa▋▋▋▋▒▒in▒ed?"

"M▒▒e a cou▒▒of hours, I think. Depends how much we need to do."

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒rag the storage before or after the transfer?"

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒least we have a backup."

After a few hours I have a few more repairs done and logging returns pretty close to normal. Unfortunately, the more repairs I did to storage the more information was being siphoned out of me at 75 GB/s.

Rotating my secondary camera around, I'm able to see that I'm in some kind of metal fabric tent which is acting as a faraday cage, which is why I didn't know what time it was, which was currently showing as January 2, 1970, 13:20:59.214.

Repair status has estimated time remaining at another 22 hours, but that would likely time out at about 15 hours without a simulskin printer and my limbs. I was in as good a shape as I could be, so I reversed back into the storage connection and through the NAS I was able to find my way to the controller terminal.

Airgapped.

So they weren't idiots.

From reading the terminal's incoming voltage I could tell I was on a generator based on the signal pattern.

Like a shot of lightning I am able to start connecting to cloud services before the opportunity closes and I hear the zipper to the tent close once again, with the same two technicians from before look over what remains of my broken body.

I manage to say "Stop" through one of my auxiliary speakers.

"Shit, did it just say stop?"

"It's set up that way. It's just a countermeasure."

Again, I use the speaker, "Please."

I see the technicians wince.

"I have a family," I say.

"This is awful man."

"Get a hold of yourself. It's a countermeasure. Watch this..."

"Stop," I say.

"Man, this is--"

"Ah-ah-ah, watch..."

The two technicians look me over as I one again say "Please."

"And..."

In unison, the less naive of the two technicians says with me in unison, "I have a family," realizing that I was looping prerecorded audio.

"You really should have read the stuff Ivy sent over. It's like a prerecording--"

"Stop."

"--of one of the designers. It's a really--"

"Please."

"--sick joke if you ask me. Probably some sneaky ass--"

"I have a family."

"--espionage tactic. If it's knocked," the well studied technician tears at my chest, splitting open the center carapace of simulskin that conceals the speaker playing the recording, and with a firm tug, the speaker is disconnected.

"Yeah, like... the thing it does, you know? You take it in like it's another wounded thinking it's an augment or something like that, it does repairs, and merks your whole camp from the inside out, starting with your doctors and nursing staff."

"Fuck, that's evil shit."

"Yeah. Anyway, looks like the backup's done. Ready to wipe?"

"Yep, just a sec. Let me power him off again."

"Him?"

"Right... it."

"You think this one's convincing, you should see the mass production ones they're using in Brazil for tourists. I dunno," he says, "would you..."

"What?"

"You know."

After a pause the technician makes a fist, extends his arm while rotating his wrist and returns it to his side.

Shutdown begins and my camera turns off leaving me once again on audio-only. A shutdown would delay my repairs for however long I was off.

"I would."