EASRS: 5447
Chapter 1
Universe: 373
April 5th, 2047
In a dark underground chamber—where the air tasted of rust and forgotten years—the stone walls were stained with moisture and covered in patches of moss that crept like old veins. Broken computers lay scattered across the room; their frames had long since corroded, exposing skeletal circuits like mechanical bones fused into the dusty remains of machines that once lived.
Then, without warning, a sharp beep echoed through the silence.
A black monitor flickered to life.
Lines of code began streaming across the screen—first only a handful, then dozens, then hundreds, until they formed a near-endless cascade of data. As the room lit up with pale electronic glow, the rusted mechanical arms positioned around the chamber jerked, squealed, and coughed themselves awake. Their joints groaned like ancient metal beasts being forced to move after decades of sleep.
On the far wall, a rust-covered hatch slowly slid open with a long, grinding krrrrrk.
A rail system activated, delivering a metallic crate that stopped at the center of the assembly platform. The box unfolded with a hiss of compressed air, revealing a mechanical skeleton—almost two thousand joints and artificial muscles, each piece crafted with clinical precision.
Immediately, the robotic arms lunged forward.
Some selected toe joints and foot servos, assembling them with unnerving accuracy; others installed hydraulic musculature, weaving tubes and artificial fibers across the metallic bones. Another arm carefully attached the skull frame, slotting in CPU cores, microchips, heat regulators, and dozens of miniature neural processors.
A second crate slid out from the wall.
Inside lay servo motors, sensory modules, dozens of eye-camera models, and a collection of synthetic organs for A.I. cores.
One arm installed the artificial "brain."
Another picked out a pair of glossy orange ocular lenses, snapping them perfectly into the eye sockets.
Across the room, a secondary computer hummed to life—beginning the programming of the unit's Vocaloid speech system, calibrating tone, pitch, and synthetic emotion.
A third container opened—filled with thousands of synthetic hair bundles.
One mechanical arm sorted through the strands while another plugged a data cable into the back of the incomplete robot's head, flooding her neural processor with coded initialization packets.
A selected bundle of pale blonde hair was trimmed and shaped with exact precision.
Another container opened, revealing a humanoid mold. The assembly platform shifted, lowering the metallic body into the mold as jets of heated air hissed through the chamber.
The mold sealed shut.
Moments later, it opened with a blast of steam.
Emerging from it was a small, delicate feminine figure—her frame now coated with a layer of smooth white silicone skin, soft and perfectly shaped. Another robotic arm applied a soft pink pigment to her lips. A scanning beam swept across her body, checking every parameter.
Height: 147 cm
Bust: 75 cm
Waist: 51 cm
Hip: 75 cm
[The perfect female body]
When the cutting of her hair was complete, the pale blonde fibers curled softly inward, styled into an adorable two-sided fringe. The strands were fused seamlessly onto her scalp. Another crate opened, this time containing clothing.
A mechanical arm dressed her in a white shirt.
Another fitted a soft knitted sweater over her torso.
A third slid fabric trousers in light brown onto her legs.
Then came a pair of light-brown boots.
Finally, a brown beret was placed gently atop her head.
Now she looked almost human—so convincingly alive that not a trace of machinery remained visible.
A robotic finger pressed the "Enter" key.
Her orange eyes burst open.
She blinked slowly—confused, innocent—staring at the ancient chamber as though awakening into the world for the first time. She raised her hand, flexing her fingers with childlike curiosity, experiencing movement as if she were a living being.
On the monitor, a message appeared:
Deta
> Welcome to existence. Your name is Sofia.
You are the lawful property of the EASRS Foundation, and I am Deta—your monitoring system.
Sofia stared blankly at the glowing text.
She reached down to touch the cold moss-covered floor but felt nothing. She could only know she touched it, not sense it.
Her voice—soft, robotic, yet with a strange hint of humanity provided by her Vocaloid system—escaped her lips.
Sofia
> "EASRS… property…"
Suddenly, the monitor crackled violently.
A distant explosion shook the entire underground chamber.
The screen died.
Sofia turned her head, confused, as another voice echoed inside her mind—soft, feminine, emotionless, a synthetic whisper that did not belong to any human throat.
Deta
> Site 38 is under attack.
You are the only functioning unit in this sector.
You will be deployed immediately.
Your mission is to serve the Foundation—whether it continues to exist or not.
A weapons locker slid open inside the wall.
Rows of black M4A1 rifles extended outward, magazines already loaded. Sofia stood up slowly, touching the weapons one by one—still unable to feel them, but understanding them nonetheless. Combat protocols streamed into her mind, unlocking tactical memory designed specifically for war.
She reached out, grasping a rifle with steady hands.
[To be continued]