On Borrowed Wings

[Dusk]

recording...
location: invergordon salvage yards, inverness system
current date: 16.05.834
local time: 23:04
detected entities: locksmith

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The sounds of slow footsteps broke the monotonous silence of the humble abode that Roland called home. The click of the door being locked seemed to awaken the previously dormant electronic life inside the room: several lights on the ceiling lit up first, illuminating the room with subdued light. Then, obeying the program embedded in them, large screens on the walls reluctantly woke up from sleep, depicting the illusion of a night city outside the windows. Manhattan. A cheap, fake fulfillment of a childhood dream.

After removing his boots, helmet, and outerwear, Roland spent a few minutes preparing a modest meal and coffee. He didn't like coffee. Especially here. To call this flavored sludge a "drink" would be a compliment, but right now he needed something to keep him going.

Having hastily swallowed his food, Roland took the cup to the table and sat down tiredly on a chair. Another electronic life awoke from its slumber: the monitors in front of the young man illuminated his face with a cold light. With a wince, Roland made sure that the room, as he had intended, was recorded on every visit.

“Entry one.” Roland sighed, placing his palm on his forehead. “Before, it would never have occurred to me to record my own reflections and changes in my thinking. Now everything has changed. After meeting with the... Nomads as they call them; constant nightmares; and an operation that partially turned me into a machine, I fear for my sanity. I don’t care what happens with me, but I cannot allow myself to harm Emilia. Therefore, I will write down my every step and track the direction in which my mind is going."

Roland knew it sounded naive. In the event that he does fall under the influence of the Nomads or someone else, most likely he will not be able to maintain rational thinking and prevent anything. And yet it was the only thing he could do. After taking a sip of the muddy liquid that the locals call coffee, Roland bent over the keyboard.
Fingers quickly tapped buttons; screens flickered under a focused, defying gaze.

He was not going to sit and wait for his fate. The implants in him would have allowed him to sleep peacefully without seeing nightmares, but this was not a solution. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

"I have acquired equipment for semi-automated surgery from the Technocrats. I intend to slightly adjust effects of the implants, allowing myself to dream, but reducing the intensity of the nightmares so as not to wake up prematurely. I hope to understand the essence of these nightmares and find out their cause."

After some time of intensive work, the equipment was ready. All that was left was... To make sure that someone would take care of Emilia if something went wrong.

Having put on his usual clothes again, Roland left the room. Electronic life fell asleep again to the sound of distant footsteps.

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end of recording