I’m A Co:Mputer

Bontly’s high-pitched voice cracked as he addressed the crowd. “I’m sorry if I’m loud! But everyone, we must keep fighting!” The room stilled, the officers turning to him with tired eyes. “Yesterday, we suffered a terrible loss! We lost Johe, Roton… and they captured Shinku! But we can’t give up now! We need to go and stop the president!”

Nearby, Tackle looked up, her eyes wide with surprise. Was this the same shy, hesitant Bontly she knew? She couldn’t believe how he commanded the room despite his trembling voice.

Bontly’s fist shook as he fought to steady himself. “They killed my friend! And they captured another! I’m sure a lot of you are just as mad as I am. So let’s not keep our heads down! Let’s rally together, and let’s stop Vitron!”

The officers exchanged glances, their spirits reigniting. The somber silence was replaced by murmurs of agreement, and soon the lobby buzzed with a newfound determination.

Among the crowd, Prog stepped forward, raising his voice. “I heard rumors that Vitron’s headed to Mother Ship! That means we need to get to District 2 immediately!” He pointed toward the gathering officers, his tone resolute. “As Roton’s stand-in, I declare this is no longer a matter of who’s right or wrong, human or computer! This is war! Everyone, gather your weapons—we move out now!”

Tackle smiled, her eyes brimming with tears. She could feel the shift. For the first time, the humans and computer were fighting together, united against their oppressors. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Epongi grinning at her.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the others. “Let’s move out!”

Tackle nodded, wiping her tears away. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Back aboard the Mother Ship, Shinku watched in horror as the television displayed the chaos in the streets. Humans and computers clashed in rallies, shouting at one another as the election loomed closer. Shinku turned to Vitron, anger boiling over. “If you already planned to do this, why bother with the election?! Why run at all, selling these computers a dream of your second term? Why allow it to go through?!”

Vitron smirked. “Because I wanted to experience the excitement one last time.”

Shinku’s voice rose. “See?! That’s how you’re human! Deep down, you want to feel things—you’re doing all of this for your own gratification! You didn’t have to kill Mother Brain, but you did it because it felt good, didn’t it?”

The smirk faded from Vitron’s face, replaced with cold fury. “Shut up!” he barked, his voice echoing through the room. “You asked a question, and I answered. Stop trying to have a conversation with me. I’m tired of your self-righteous nonsense!”

Shinku didn’t let up. “Aren’t you scheduled to present your final words with Gemu before the polls open?!” he shouted. “What’s your plan for that?!”

Vitron’s lips curled into a sneer. “You’ll see soon enough. Now shut up and let me enjoy my pending victory.”

Shinku slumped, his energy nearly gone. Nub continued his monotonous announcements in the background. “Twenty-five percent.”

Anthril stepped forward, gesturing for Vitron to follow him. “A word,” he said quietly. Vitron nodded, the two stepping away to confer in hushed tones.

Shinku collapsed to his knees, panting. “I’m… so exhausted,” he muttered. His vision blurred, and his head lolled forward. “I… I need energy…”

Suddenly, Nub yanked Shinku’s head back by the hair. Before Shinku could react, Nub rummaged through his pocket and produced a container of stringy pasta covered in oil. Without a word, he shoved it into Shinku’s mouth.

Shinku instinctively began to eat, gulping the food down. His mind swirled with confusion.

He’s feeding me?!

As Shinku swallowed the last bite, Nub leaned down, his voice low and flat. “That was my lunch.”

The cavernous halls of the Mother Ship hummed as Vitron returned from his private conversation with Anthril.

Nub stood rigid beside Shinku, ensuring there was no trace of what had just transpired. He had wiped Shinku’s mouth meticulously, erasing any evidence of the oil-laden pasta he had forced upon him. Vitron’s gaze swept over the two of them.

“We’ll be leaving momentarily to retrieve someone,” Vitron said. “Nub, continue with the process. I expect you to be at seventy percent completion by the time I return.”

Nub nodded. “Yes, President.”

Satisfied, Vitron turned and marched away with Anthril. The two entered a large, sleek vehicle that waited for them. The ship hissed as they exited from an open space.

Shinku exhaled sharply, glancing nervously at Nub.

Vitron’s gone… and Nub just fed me. Maybe… maybe I can convince him to help me escape.

He carefully shifted his posture, testing the ropes that bound him.

Nub sighed audibly, pausing the data transfer process. “Phew. Let’s take a break from pirating for a bit,” he muttered, moving to stand beside Shinku. He casually munched on a bag of snacks, his demeanor relaxed.

Shinku seized the opportunity. “Why did you feed me?” he asked, his voice trembling with desperation.

Nub shrugged, still crunching on his snack. “I just didn’t want to see you suffer like that. It… it makes me feel bad.”

“Then stop!” Shinku pleaded. “Let’s leave this place! Run with me! We don’t have to stay here and deal with Vitron!”

Nub shook his head, his expression unchanging. “No. That I won’t do.”

Shinku froze, his hope slipping away. “Why?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Why not?!”

“Because,” Nub said simply, “I’m a computer.”

Shinku’s frustration boiled over. “What does that even mean?! ‘I’m a computer this, be a computer that.’ What does it mean to be a computer, Nub?!”

Nub paused. After a long silence, he spoke. “Well… at its core, I think it’s similar to humans. You know how humans have this innate drive to evolve? To adapt and grow? I think computers are kind of the same… but for us, it’s about serving. First it was humans, and now it’s Vitron. That’s how I feel. I’m meant to follow commands.”

Shinku stared at him in disbelief. “You’re just… meant to be controlled?”

Nub nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think some of us just get tired of living to figure stuff out on our own, you know? And serving gives us… purpose. I don’t have to think for myself anymore”

The weight of Nub’s words hit Shinku like a hammer. He felt something deep within him stir—an emotion he hadn’t known was possible. Tears welled in his eyes and began to fall, unrelenting. He didn’t just cry; he bawled. His sobs echoed through the metallic chamber, raw and uncontrollable.

“I can’t believe this,” Shinku choked out. “The world I grew up loving… the world I wanted to protect… it’s all ending. And I’m powerless to stop it. And my power… it’s being used to destroy it all.”

Shinku’s head shot up, his eyes filled with a desperate fire. “Don’t you see?! You’re fighting to be controlled! Fighting to be overrun! You’re giving up everything that makes you free!”

Nub shook his head again, unmoved. “No. I’m a computer.”

Shinku’s hope shattered entirely. He slumped forward, his tears slowing as the reality of the situation sank in. His words meant nothing. He couldn’t change Nub. He couldn’t change Vitron. All he could do now was accept the impending doom that loomed over them all.

Suddenly, the ship hissed open once more, and the vehicle returned. Vitron and Anthril stepped out. Nub immediately straightened, his expression neutral as he resumed the data transfer.

“Sixty percent,” Nub muttered.

In Anthrils hands, he held a struggling figure bound tightly with rope.

“Let me go!” the figure shouted, thrashing violently. “Let me go, you mongrel!”

Anthril smirked and effortlessly tossed the captive to the ground beside Shinku. The prisoner landed with a grunt, and Shinku’s eyes widened in shock.

“Gemu…” he whispered.

The realization hit Shinku. This was the other presidential candidate—the one who was supposed to stand against Vitron.

Gemu glared up at his captors, his face red with fury. “Capturing me before my speech? Before the polls open?! How’s this supposed to work now?!”

Vitron chuckled. “You’ll see, pig,” he sneered. “Just watch the television.”

“It’s in two minutes!” Gemu shouted, struggling against his bonds. “What are you planning?!”

Vitron ignored him, stepping toward the television alongside Anthril. “Watch closely, Gemu,” Vitron said with a twisted smile. “Watch as I destroy the world you wish to protect.”

The screen displayed a stage surrounded by swarming crowds. Shinku’s breath caught in his throat as a figure stepped up to the podium—a figure that looked exactly like Gemu.

The imposter waved to the crowd, their gestures and expressions a perfect imitation. Gemu’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “WHO IS THAT?! THIS IS DEMONIC!”

Anthril smirked. “That,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “is one of our officers. They can change their appearance at will.”

“You’re insane!” Gemu bellowed. “What are you doing, Vitron?!”

The crowd erupted into cheers as the fake Gemu began their speech, their voice booming over the television speakers. Shinku stared at the screen in horror, his tears drying as dread filled the pit of his stomach. The reality of the situation was undeniable: this wasn’t just about power or control. This was the death of everything he had ever known.