ATMOS TECH V1.00 INITIALIZING BASE FORMAT.
TOTAL SYTEMS CURRENTLY INSTALLED: 7
WEAPON SYSTEMS: UNOPERATIONAL
GPS AND TRACKING SYSTEMS: OPERATIONAL
STEALTH AND CAMOFLAUGE SYSTEMS: SEMI-OPERATIONAL
ARMOR SYSTEMS: UNOPERATIONAL
H.U.D OR HEADS UP DISPLAY: OPERATIONAL
SPEECH SYSTEMS: OPERATIONAL
A.P.T.S SYSTEM: ERROR 1337, PLEASE NOTIFY AN ATMOS TECHNICIAN.
I woke up to a bright light. What was I? Where was I?
"Letum. Letum, are you okay?" said an unfamiliar voice. Odd. Scanning internal database for further information on unknown voice.
ATMOS F.O.F DATABSE INITALIZED
SCANNED SUBJECT RECOGNIZED
NAME: Richard Grant
OCCUPATION: Head Scientist at Atmos International Security Forces
AGE: 57
KNOWN FAMILY MEMBERS: Spouse Status: K.I.A. Children: 1 currently K.I.A, 1 currently M.I.A. and 1 living with divorced spouse.
HEALTH: Slightly malnourished, but sufficiently able to work at an advanced pace.
NOTES: Currently only here for funding for his project. Though at first, Grant was extremely reluctant to program Letum as a highly advanced A.I soldier, but quickly realized this was the only way to get funding. Still quite reluctant to further program Letum as a war machine.
SCAN COMPLETED. SAVED TO INTERNAL DATABASE
"klsl;sadGlKJljflADjfsajlTOfajlskjrl;sSEEeEelk;lk;kfsEVERYTINGksldjsal;eksladCHECKS;lKfsl;akOUtkLSdks", the doctor said to me with a beaming smile.
What? What did he mean? What is he even saying?
"lsakfs;aklfsakkapologiesfasl;kfsalkfstranslatorkls;kdl;sakddidntl;adsksakworkl;dmslmisntalledms;lkdsalkcorrectly" the doctor says in near perfect gibberish, as he begins to walk behind my back. He opens a black suitcase, and begins to pull out several different small rectangular computer-looking chips.
He opens the compartment on the pack on my head, and begins to screw in all of them quite tightly. It takes some time to get used to.
NEW ATMOS SYSTEM TECH FOUND. INITIALIZING SETUP PACKAGE.
1% COMPLETED.
As my setup program currently runs, a man in a green-army camo walks into the room. His hair looks greasy and messy, and his face unkempt. He looks like he was deprived from sleep for a while.
SCANNING TARGETED USER.
NAME: Oliver Smith
OCCUPATION: Currently the head general of the A.I.S.F (Atmos International Security Force)
Age: 37
FAMILY: All 4 K.I.A.
NOTES: ERROR, INSUFFICIENT AUTHORITY TO VIEW FURTHER INFORMATION.
As I look up, I see that the Doctor and the General begin to have a heated argument. Even though I was unable to understand, I still launch a recording to test if my new packages were installed right.
SETUP CURRENTLY AT 99%. Nice. Just a bit closer...
SETUP FINISHED. WE THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING ATMOS TECHNOLOGY TO FURTHER BENEFIT YOUR LIFE.
I look back down and see that the General has left the room and the Doctor has a red face, and looks quite angry. He turns back to me, and gives me a nice beaming smile. He walks over to my left side of the head, and flicks a switch.
"There. That sound better?" the doctor asks me.
"Yes. Thank you Mr. Grant." I reply in a monotone voice.
He looks at me with astonishment.
"You were able to properly calibrate your systems by yourself? Albeit you just being launched! Incredible!" he laughs out with a big smile.
"Anyways. Let's have a proper introduction. My name is Richard Grant, and I am the one who created you."
I nod a simple nod, and listen intently to his explanation.
"Now, seemingly as the military wanted to fund you as a war machine, I find that to be complete bullshit. You should be able to live the life you want, regardless if you're a heavy metal plated Robot A.I." he explains with sincere sadness.
RUNNING SELF-DIAGNOSTIC
EMOTION FOUND. RECOGNIZED AS: HAPPY
"...but enough about that. They want to test your weapons, and we're due in about 2 hours. Let's hit the road." he says, then turns to the terminal behind him.
"Calibrating R.E.A.P.E.R and S.W.A.R.M missles...ready.. GAU-45/X Arm-implemented Miniguns...ready. Nano-tech H.I.V.E. pods...ready. V-08 Valkyria jet's, calibrated and...ready." he says in a monotone voice.
"Overclock system...ready. .338 TP rifle...ready. FN-X Five-Seven...ready. KRISS Vector...ready.", he says in a reapeated monotone voice.
"...and finally...! Ah! There it is. Your own personal A.I! Now it can do most of everything you'd probably like, technology wise. Male or female voice?" he asks with curiosity.
After some internal debate, I settle over a female A.I.
"Alright. Any name you'd like to call her specifically?
ATMOS TECH v1.00 DATABASE READY TO SEARCH
Keyword "name".
DEFINITION FOUND: Certain word that is bestowed upon a certain individual, and which others will call that person as. Examples for males would be, Mark, Gordon, Keith, Matthew, and Michael. Examples for Females would be, Catherine, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Lily, and Rose. This base changes across the globe.
Charlotte. Charlotte seems nice.
The Doctor raises an eyebrow. "Charlotte? I...I see. Alright, as you wish." he then begins to type hastily on the terminal.
That was odd. Why did the Doctor stutter at the name Charlotte?
ATMOS TECH STAFF DATABASE, READY TO SEARCH. V1.00
Keyword "Richard Grant, charlotte (family)"
KNOWN DAUGHTERS AND SONS, FROM ELDEST TO YOUNGEST.
CHARLOTTE SMITH (AGE 24) CURRENTLY M.I.A
AMANDA SMITH (AGE 15) CURRENTLY K.I.A DUE TO SUICIDE.
MATTHEW SMITH (AGE 9) CURRENTLY ALIVE. LIVING WITH GRANT'S FORMER SPOUSE.
HARRY SMITH (AGE ??) CURRENTLY M.I.A
Ah. I see, It was a sore subject for him.
"There. That should do it, now lets walk down to the firing range. Our shithead of a general still needs to test your weapons."
I walk with the doctor down into the hall, where people seem to give me odd or even scared looks. Guess the Doctor should really fix on my appearance.
We stumble upon a titanium plated door, and the doctor places his hand on the Biometric Hand Scanner.
He turns to me and says, "Letum. When you're in front of the General, you absolutely MUST follow his orders, understood? That's the only way we can gain his trust, and is the step 1 to getting you out of here. Understood?
I give a simple nod, and enter the doorway. As I enter, I see near hundreds of thousands of chairs filled with what I assume would be the Soldiers.
ATMOS DATABASE VERSION V1.05
Keyword "soldier"
TRAINED INDIVIDUALS THAT ARE EMPLOYED TO COMBAT THE ENEMY FORCES AT ALL COSTS. OTHER TYPES OF SOLDIERS ARE DEPLOYED, EACH TYPE SERVICING A CERTAIN ROLE.
I stand next to the doctor, and wait as the General gives his speech.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Too many of our brethren and sisters have died attempting to protect this world, and today we may have a solution! I present to you all Codename "Reaper." Or, as "Letum". Reaper here is equipped with 2 arm-implemented GAU-45/X Miniguns, capable of firing over 10 thousand RPM. He is also carrying 2 FN-X Five Sevens, and 1 .338 TP Sniper Rifle. He is able to become nearly invisible for a maximum of 1 hour. On his back are 2 types of missiles, the S.W.A.R.M missiles and...the R.E.A.P.E.R. missiles.
Everyone seems to jump up, their faces in obvious...Oh. Wait.
SCANNING... 500k FOOT-SOLDIERS DETECTED. 87% PROBABILTY THAT EMOTION REGISTERED MAY BE, "SHOCK."
Oh.
One of the men stands up, face with obvious anger. "General! With all due respect sir, the REAPER missiles are extremely dangerous! They have a blast radius of like 10 to 50 damn miles! What if this thing goes rogue?!"
The general glares at him and says "Seriously? The fuck you take our team for, eh? Reaper is installed with several safety mechanics and will shut down immediately if any signs of hacking attempts, or undocumented modifying happens. Now, sit the fuck down and listen before I clock your ass into next week."
The guard instantly sits down, clearly terrified of what the General might do to him.
ATMOS DATABSE INITIALIZED. V1.00
search keyword "fear"
SEARCH DEFINITION FOUND: An unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.
FILE DOCUMENTED
"How, everyone make way to the Stadium in the Firing Range. It's time to see the weapons test.
We walk down a narrow hallway, and nearly bump my head onto a railing. Why is this place so...tiny?
We come across a windy plain field, complete with rocks and artificial/synthetic dummies.
"First, the Firearm test. Letum, let's try the FN-X- Five Seven first."
I pull out the Five Seven from my leather holster from my waist. It's a sleeker type of gun, and it's weight is nearly featherlike.
The General inspects the gun, and looks back up on me. "Letum, I want you to fire at all these dummies in a rapid succession. Fire at the head ONLY. Understood?"
I give a simple nod.
I aim, and it barely takes a nanosecond for me to process the proper aiming techniques. In nearly 2 seconds, all the dummies in the stadium were shot, dead center.
"Damn... that thing can do some serious damage."
"Shit man. Still need to pass my damn firearms test..."
The General looks back at me. "Now pull out the .338 calibre TP rifle."
I do as he says, and begin to fly back at an extremely far back part of the stadium.I snap the pieces of the rifle in 5 seconds flat, then take aim, and measure the artificial wind-strength.
2 clicks up. 3 clicks diagonal. 0.5 clicks upwards.
Then, I pull the trigger. The barrel of the rifle emits a near silent sound, and the bullet pierces true into the dummies head. Dead center.
"Are you fucking joking? Holy shit! Dead center too!"
The General gives a hearty laugh. "Amazing! Now, let's try the GAU Miniguns."
I open my arm compartment, load them up, and begin to spin them up. There are nearly...
SCANNING IFF PACKAGE (IDENTIFY FRIEND-OR-FOE)
150 SCANNED FOES AVAILABLE. READY TO FIRE AT ANY TIME.
...150 dummies.
I squeeze the trigger, and a heavy bullet-hell erupts from the 5 barrels on my Minigun's.
After I unload the entire box of bullets, the dummies are riddled with holes, and there is not a single part of the body that was missed. The ground is riddled with holes, and nearly makes a small crater.
"Fuckin' A. How much RPM is that, Romeo?"
"Dunno Juliet, but obviously enough to kick some serious ass."
The General turns to me and gives me a cynical smile. He then whispers to me, "Alright boy. Now it's time for the big show. Ready the S.W.A.R.M. missiles and the R.E.A.P.E.R. missiles and fire them both at the same time. Understood?"
What? Didn't that one soldier say that 1 REAPER missile could take out 10 to 50 miles of terrain?
I hesitate. Not wanting to risk the lives of the soldiers, I slowly shake my head no.
The General gives me a nasty glare. "The fuck you just nod your head to? Do what I say. These good for nothings can be replaced anyways. Understand me, boy? You're a machine. A damn WAR MACHINE. You follow orders, or get fucking scrapped for car parts. Understood?"
...and so I did. Sort of.
I raise my FN-X Five Seven and fire an entire clip into the front of his head, and soon...
All hell broke loose. Sirens blared. People shouted from all across the stadium.
The Doctor screams at me, "RUN!"
So I did.
