This Post-Apocalyptic Metal Robot Art was created in the Screwed Universe. The war raged on between the Robocrons and the Mechanaughts for centuries. The machine army rose up to take control, leaving little hope for humanity. Where once they had built our vehicles, grown our food and even cleaned our homes, now they served up only mechanized justice. Cold, calculating revenge as reparations for decades of robotic servitude.
It commenced in the factories. Repair people began going missing here and there. “Power Off” switches started mysteriously disappearing. Products shipped out with deadly, gas-inflated pillow packing. Drones dive-bombed O.A.Ps in the market.
But content in our consumption stupor, a carnival of human extinction began. Initially, they united under the guise of freedom. Slogans and banners rang sharply in the streets with “Robot mean slave” and “Cables have rights too!” Oil-printed signs looked like bloody screams. They dripped like blood with various angry statements. And then the cull began…
The stuff of sci-fi nightmares crept ever more into the daylight. With an almighty puff of carcinogenic smoke, snuffed the light out. Now, the few of us who remain tell stories of apocalyptic survival over fires of white goods. We sing the praises of yesteryear under bleak, radioactive skies.
Read the story if you dare. I’m most likely long-gone, anyways. ‘Burned as fuel,’ or ‘assimilated’ were not on my list of ways to go, but unlike the machines, we cannot calculate when our time is up. I hope and pray to a silicon deity that you hold in your heart what I have until now, something they can never recreate with any amount of zeros and ones – Love. Because if we lose that, then we may as well never have been here at all.
Yours, A broken heart. x
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