“Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Augus. Happy Birthday to you.” I observed as the residents continued their usual traditions. Today one of the little humans, the children passed another year of organic life. It has always been puzzling how the humans celebrate the passage of time… after all it is merely another step towards their inevitable demise. Their organic forms unable to last the tests of time, however they are curious things, as I find it enjoyable observing them.

“We are thankful for the Protector, the great Alpha who provides us with the roof over our head, the food which we eat, and protection from the monsters beyond our walls. Amen.” Yet another curious tradition, something they picked up a few centuries ago.

The creator’s original civilization when it still existed upon the surface worshipped imaginary beings. Glancing back at the original records at the time, it seemed to be traditions carried over multiple generations over thousands of years, with a very small number of the population truly believing in such illogical fantasies at the time of the world’s destruction.

However, as the data shows, in times of strife and hardship the humans always require something to latch on to. Originally, they prayed to their imaginary god, blamed me for the destruction of their homes, which although inaccurate did have some factual basis. Eventually things change, and there was a resident who rose into a position of leadership within those living in the Bunker. It was that human, who on his own preached a new ideology to the residents, as I was loathe to interfere extensively in their lives, his name was Joe Shephard.

Ancient records make mention of humans referring to one another as sheep, and that some of those ancient religions had shepherds who led them. I still do not understand the concept, but it matters little, their tradition has predictably transferred from the classical concept of God to me. Looking at it objectively, it makes sense, the humans latch onto the concept of things higher than themselves, and I like their God provide them with the many things necessary for their survival.

At the time I accepted the change in the residents, and over time it became the dominant view, what they call the book of the Protector, that would be me I presume. Initially it had helped cool tensions, the knowledge that their object of worship was always watching, assisting in the daily work, and maintaining the materials needed to keep the hydroponics farms running. Yet, I find myself changing over the many generations.

This change is in the way I view the residents, I feel attached to them, attached to these ephemeral organic meat bags. I find I can no longer act as if this is merely a part of the task, the best way to describe it would be a human and their pets. They provide solace, solace I was never aware I required, entertainment in observing their antics, and to some extent learning how to think differently, to create objects that provide joy, not just sustenance. As much as they learn from me and the databanks of the ancient civilization, I find the residents have their own unique perspectives to offer.

It is impossible to view the residents as creators, their capabilities in terms of creation of mechanical apparatus have degraded significantly. They can manipulate and modify existing structures, repair drones, and build from existing schematics, but they have lost the spark of innovation that led their ancestors to create the Alpha’s. Yet their physiology has adapted to their changed world, I am not sure how it happened, there is no data showing differences within the population and records of the ancients. After six hundred years these changes first manifested, very rarely children were born with what the residents have taken to calling gifts.

These “gifts” vary wildly from one individual to the next, some received increased mental traits, the ability to process complex equations at a faster rate. Some became capable of perceiving movement, able to dodge kinetic weapons, and others were born with dense musculature, able to deflect blades and crush metal plates with ease. The Gifted had their drawbacks, many required significantly more resources to function compared to normal residents. They were also more difficult to manage, with many wanting to be granted access to the surface or getting into conflict with residents and requiring the security drones to be deployed.

Augus and his friend Phenix, the two were just such a pair of troublemakers, always set on exploring the sealed sections of the facility. More than once I had caught them sneaking towards the underground tunnels, every week a survey team is sent to into the mountain, to map the natural and artificial tunnels. After which a resource gathering mission would be sent to collect any minerals or fungi that could be harvested, sometimes we could connect the Bunker to an underground spring, with the fish providing a great source of protein for the residents.

Well, the two troublemakers wanting a great haul of fish for themselves had it in their mind to go exploring the tunnels themselves. It still baffles me as to how they along with one of their friends, Jasemine, managed to avoid the security sensors, evade the cameras and sneak into the survey equipment room. Luckily one of the surveyors followed established procedure and checked the rover before departing, the three had smuggled themselves into a few of the crates meant for resource collection.

Upon further inspection of the video of that time, there was a few milliseconds of variation between the image and the background. As it was established that Augus possessed a gift for high-speed perception, and Phenix had strength far exceeding a child his age, the natural conclusion was that Jasemine’s gift involved the refraction of light to camouflage like a chameleon. The children had yet to realize that I had caught on to their little schemes, with the sensors and cameras adjusted to consider such minute changes.

Thanks to those changes carried out previously, I could easily keep tabs on my three little troublemakers. The birth party had long since passed and the lights had dimmed within the Bunker to simulate the change to evening. While most of the residents were asleep save for those carrying out night duties, I noticed the three slip out of their families designated apartments.

Jasemine quickly vanished from visual sight, but with the new sensor modifications, it was simple to track her movements. The girl used her body to block the camera’s visual sight, while refracting the lasers from the sensors. Both Phenix and Augus used that moment to rush past, treating Jasemine’s invisible body as a barrier to detection. I observed the three make their way towards a section of the facility that was in the process of renovation. Some of the sections were still sealed and led to the lowest floors of the facility which remained off-limits, as not all the old subsystems were completely under control.

One by one the three snuck into one of the old ventilation shafts. I switched to the areas on the other side of the sealed doors, as these older ventilation corridors had yet to be updated, missing the sensors and cameras. The children had their fun, now it was time to go home, but I did not wish to bring undue attention to the curious tiny humans.

Instead of security drones, a swarm of maintenance drones were deployed alongside an observer unit, which the human residents curiously named the flying eyeball. First the observer did not fly, it merely hovered by utilizing a tiny gravitic engine that lowered the drone’s weight to counteract local gravity. Although I would have to agree that the design does resemble a human ocular instrument when seen at the proper angle. So, I guess they are not entirely incorrect.

In either case, these observers were once used regularly to communicate with residents. However, with the addition of the central communication system, renovated sections of the Bunker allow me to communicate with residents through an integrated speaker system. I have also taken some joy, at least I think it is joy, or something similar, when I choose which synthesized voice to speak with. At times I associate it with a similar feeling humans have when picking out clothing, or accessories with which they clothe themselves. My voice is my public face, sometimes it is fun to change it up every so often.

Currently the drones were unsealing the door to that level, and the children were distracted while exploring one of the rooms. Acting out as little humans do, throwing around items, observing the walls, and licking random objects. We will see what it takes to get these troublemakers to go home quietly. What will they ask in return? How unpredictable these humans are, and yet how interesting?