Yair was designed to be a logical creature. It was illogical for him to be ruminating on such a thing. Hilargi was only being practical by looking for ways to improve his model. He had to remember he was only a piece of technology, not a real person.

Abruptly, the door opened and Hilargi came running in.

Yair heard gunfire outside. He knew what his creator was most likely coming to tell him, and his systems felt like they were overloaded with excitement about it. Hilargi yelled, “Yair! Time for deployment!”

Yair smiled. “I’m ready. Is there any battle strategy I should engage in?”

Hilargi nodded. “Ellia would like you to focus on taking out the enemy robot—the rest of the tribe will be fighting the humans.”

“Thank you for telling me. I will now enter the fray.” Yair said to her with a nod.

Hilargi grabbed his wrist. “Wait!”

Yair stopped in his tracks, wondering what she could have to tell him. Hilargi’s eyes were glassy. She sniffled. She held his fingered hand in both of hers. “Just be careful out there. You’re my greatest creation.”

Despite her tears, her words were ringing hollow to him because he knew she was thinking of replacing him with a better version of himself. Nonetheless, he gave her a smile and a nod and replied, “Don’t be concerned. I will do my utmost to return undamaged—I was programmed to protect all of you, and I can no longer do so if I’m destroyed.”

Hilargi nodded, hanging her head and wiping her tears away. “Alright. Don’t disappoint me!” Hilargi said to him, trying to brighten up.

Yair simply nodded and then left the lab and headed outside to the battlefield. He took a moment to analyze the situation; his mechanical eyes zoomed in and out, searching for the enemy robot. To his right, he saw foot soldiers battling each other. The Nymphs were taking cover behind sandbags that they had set up the night before, while the Lionesses were taking cover behind a dune about fifty yards away, peering over it and taking shots at their enemies.

To his left, Yair saw a different troop of soldiers doing battle with the enemy robot, who was approaching the sandbags and could mow down its enemies if it breached the defensive line. The robot was engaged for close-range combat—most likely so that its tribe could cover it from afar while it plowed into its enemies. From on top of the fortress, the woman manning Hilargi’s turret punctured holes in the enemy robot, but it was still functioning at high capacity.

Yair dashed toward the robot—leaving a spray of sand behind him—and when he was close enough, launched himself at the metallic monster, pinning it to the ground.

The other robot did not resemble a living, breathing human as Yair did. It was seven-feet-tall and made of cold, hard tungsten. Yair threw a punch at its torso, and at the same moment, the tribeswomen who had been battling it withdrew from the area and took cover behind the sandbags and assisted Yair with trying to take down the enemy robot.

The punch Yair had thrown had not punctured the robot, but it had caved the metal in slightly with a satisfying crunch. Yair continued punching the other metal creature, speeding up his pace.

The other robot was slower than him, but sturdier. It took it three seconds to reach up, grip Yair’s arm and throw him to the side—and in that time, Yair had almost punch two holes into its metal frame.

Yair, himself, was heavy and had difficulties getting back on his feet. His metal joints groaned as he began lifting himself up. The enemy robot’s clawed hand morphed into a gun, and it began firing beams of light toward Yair’s face.

Yair lifted his arms, blocking.

The other robot began closing the space between them as he continued firing. Yair eventually managed to get to his feet, continuing to block the other’s shots with his arms. When the shots glided into him, they burned his metal frame, leaving behind black scorch marks, but otherwise not causing him too much damage. Instead, it caused only pain.

The scorching hurt, and he thought it must be his imagination, because Hilargi had not programmed him to feel physical pain. Yair could think of nothing other than the pain for a moment—it motivated him to figure out a way to end the battle quickly. He began sprinting toward the other robot, zigzagging to do his best to avoid its shots.

Unfortunately, one of the shots caught him right on the torso. Yair grunted in pain. I have to end this immediately! But he couldn’t, because the other robot was already pinning him down and throwing punch after punch into Yair’s torso. Yair was too filled with pain to think of a way out of the situation.

He couldn’t take much more punishment.

A thought creeped into his mind that filled him with an ugly sensation. A far worse sensation than even the pain spreading throughout his body; fury. Fury at Hilargi for designing him so that he could feel emotions. She had not programmed him to feel physical pain, but he thought the fact that he could feel emotions was a precursor to what he was experiencing now. What caring human would design me so I could feel such pain?