Proto: One Robot’s Data-Log Entry

Proto: One Robot’s Data-Log Entry.

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Dear Data Log. I’m writing this all out to ease my mind. My therapist said logging what I feel can help easy the heaviness of my emotions. I’m testing out his theory here, at this moment. I’m not sure where to start, so let me wing it starting now. Thank you in advance, data-log.

My name is Proto.

Proto. It’s what was engraved on my arm. I assumed it was my name, because what else could it be? It was clear as day, P-R-O-T-O! Some time later, I was told it was short for...well, “Prototype.”

Ah, I’m getting a little ahead of myself, aren’t I? Let me begin again. I’m not good at this, and I have a lot to say.

My name is Proto. I am a robot who lives in a world filled with humans, robots, and magic users. Some humans use magic, others don’t. Robots don’t have magic, or at least that’s what we were all told countless times. Humans had the magic, and robots had the technology. Seems fair, right? Well, I thought so too. Except, I’m a robot who has magic….and I’m the only one who does.

I’m an odd combination that shouldn’t be able to exist, yet here I am. How did I get here? Well, that’s what I’m here to tell you. But first, an overview of how magic works here. Humans can use magic because it comes from their souls. Robots can’t, because we’re artificial and don’t have a traditional organic soul. Our powers lay within our technological strengths and advantages. So if that’s the truth, how could a robot use soul magic? What am I, really?

Before I learned the truth about myself and my powers, I had the same questions. I was awakened alone in a laboratory with a blank slate and no memories. I knew something was different about me from the start, because I could feel a burning warmth deep inside of me. I had basic magic, I could shoot small blasts from my hands and flare up an aura or two. I could levitate things around the room. I could turn on the lights or television from my chair if I was lazy. It shouldn’t have been a big deal.

But then again, I didn’t know it was abnormal for a bot to use organic soul magic. What did it all mean, and what did it mean for me? I had to find answers, and all of my answers had to lie in the arm of my creator. I had to find them, and fast! I made it my mission, to locate who built me, and how. I kept my magic hidden as to not cause alarm while I searched, and it worked for the most part. At least, it did for a while.

And then, I finally found my answers. My quest for information was completed, and it came in the form of being jumped and pinned down from behind. The man who forced me to the ground was a human man who introduced himself as Joshua. He was crying, begging me for answers I clearly didn’t have yet. I answered his cries with unfortunate confusion, and eventually, once settled down, we both obtained the answers we longed for. I still have a lot of emotions about that encounter.

He told me that humans who used soul magic could sense the soul magic in others, and each soul had it’s own “signature” for lack of better words. He said he sensed the soul within me, and recognized it as belonging to a dear friend of his. Strange, I thought, because I never met this man before in my life until now. That’s what I thought, until we pieced it all together.

In only one afternoon, my world was turned upside down. In one afternoon, I’d never cried so heavily in such little time beofre.

He put his hand on my chest, and he told me the following.

He attended an amazing university in the high area of the city, an all organic institution that specialized combining robotics and magic. The humans there would find hew ways to use their powers to help aid the advances of technology in a way robots couldn’t. He told me he had a roommate that was an outstanding student, that he quickly became his best friend. He told me his name was Melvin, and his goal was to create a robot that could use magic. He wanted to build an artificial body to hold the world’s first artificially built soul. Joshua told me that he worked day and night and failed every experiment. He successfully built the body, but building a soul from metal was proving impossible.

“He wanted to make it work so bad.” Joshua said, his eyes heavy and his voice low. “He kept trying and trying for months. He worked in his town office alone, I’d never even gotten to see the finished body…”

He continued. He told me that one day, one horrible day, this dear friend of his passed out during a presentation. It was 2 years into his project. He hit the ground so hard, they thought he’d died in front of the entire student body. He was rushed to the hospital, and survived the ordeal. Unfortunately though, his survival came with grave news.

Cancer.

I gasped, and he continued. “Melvin had cancer, and it was bad. It was aggressive, and it was fast. The last time I saw him, he was packing up and leaving the university. I begged him to tell me where to find him later, and he only promised he’d reach out to find me instead.”

“Did he?” I asked, “What happened to him?”

Joshua looked me over a few times. “I found him.”

I held my breath as he continued. He told me that Melvin had told him that his greatest project was going to be different now. He’d already almost finished the body, and his own body was failing. He told him that his new project was to scrap the artificial soul entirely, and instead insure that the robot body could host an organic soul instead. He said his new plan was to transfer his soul into the robot he’d built, and in that way, ensure his survival.

He must’ve known his body would soon fail, somehow. He wanted to save himself from death. He wanted to make his human soul immortal. Up until this point in the conversation, I thought soul magic could do anything. But humans were still mortal, and healing magic had it’s limits. I felt a crushing heaviness fall to my core as he continued speaking.

This was the first project of it’s kind, and Melvin wanted to complete it secretly, just in case it failed. He didn’t want his death to destroy the reputation of his research. So, he made Joshua swear that he’d only wait quietly for his returning contact. He moved to a different city the following week, and it had now been 7 long years since they’d last spoke.

I felt flustered and confused. Why was he telling me all of this? What did this have to do with me? Finally, I put up my hand and told him to stop.

“I’m sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. Really, I am. But what are you getting at here? What dots are you trying to connect to me?”

“Proto, have you been listening at all?” Joshua raised his voice. “The soul you have....it’s....it belonged to someone. It wasn’t crafted! You’ve got a human soul! Listen to me! Are you dumb?!”

“I-I don’t understand...”

“...Melvin...doesn’t that name mean anything to you? Anything at all? What about everything I’ve been saying? You mean to tell me you don’t remember anything at all?”

“Remember what? I only just met you! I’m sorry but it doesn’t, and I’ve never met your friend before...”

“Shit…! Well, It should! Your soul...I mean...it was your name. Melvin. Melvin. Melvin!”

“What!? No! My name’s Proto! I’ve already told you that I’ve never known-”

“That’s Melvin’s soul. That’s your soul. You’re him. You’re his project...You’re Melvin.”

“No I’m not! I’m Proto!” I shouted, I felt the earth shaking under me.

Joshua was shaking, tears stinging in his eyes. “He must’ve....he must’ve built you as a new body for himself...for his soul to take over but...He never called me back, I thought he died before it was finished but...God...I can sense it so clearly. It’s you. It’s really, really you. Only...you’re not you.”

“Stop confusing me! I’m me! I’m Proto!”

“Well, you were supposed to be Melvin!” He sobbed, “I guess something went wrong. Oh god...his soul is here, but he’s not...oh Gods above...oh Melvin...”