The smell of death.
It was an overwhelming scent that immediately kicked in.
And suddenly, the android’s eyes opened.
Who am I?
The coldness of the solid table she laid on made her arms shiver. Noises of scrap metal reverberated around the walls as a desk light flickered violently.
Nothing but emptiness, asides from a small table covered with tools. The sight of an ungodly mess.
As she shifted her head to get a sense of her surroundings, the android had a feeling that someone was watching her. However, it was barely being lit, and the vast space around her only strengthened the need to vomit.
For the feeling of absolute isolation only emphasized her vulnerability on the table.
“There are two rules to follow, my dear.”
An ominous man appeared from the shadows. His lab coat was covered with soot as uncountable wrinkles on it made themselves visible to the naked eye.
“First, don’t ever let anyone find out you’ve been specialized for this mission.”
The android took her first breath. The frigid air coming from the room's air conditioner seeped into her nose.
She glanced over at the man. Something about him felt familiar, but she assumed that was because he was her builder.
“Second, don’t destroy this gem of yours.”
The man smiled as he casually pointed at the android’s collarbone. She looked down, finally analyzing how she was designed.
The feminine curves, and the beautiful dress that would remind someone of an innocent flower; white dress flaps that resembled rose petals. She was intrigued, for it looked like whoever sent a draft for her design must be a huge fan of flowers.
Her face, colored with a child’s rosy cheeks, solidified her overall attire. But perhaps the thing that made her question her look was her rather enormous bosom. Alas, that was something she would have to think about later.
“Why?” The curious android’s fingers lingered around the pink gem.
The man smiled.
“Because this gem is your living core. Essentially…”
There was a pause, and the android faintly heard the distant sounds of a drill and more metal scrapping.
“This is your very existence.”