We are in dire straits, the threat to our survival is as close as it has ever been.

It effortlessly bursts through our walls. It never gave our weapons a chance to exist.

It is in the Stronghold. We run to follow it. It is single minded in its pursuit.

It is in the Nursery.

I watch it take the egg, lifting it from its cradle. I approach. I try to force its fingers off of my future. It doesn’t react and is not hindered. Its machined chassis is much stronger than my organic musculature. It turns to leave. I am shoved to the floor without any notice from it. It steps through the opening it made in the wall. I am reminded of the outside. My mindsense can feel the entire exterior of the Stronghold for the first time since its completion. The walls contained my feeling, a necessity of my now obsolete gambit. I feel the Stronghold’s weapons as they are and as they will likely remain, small scale disruptor rockets. I realize how I can save my egg. I rush to the arsenal as my enemy takes flight. I reach the station and do not take a seat before launching the weapons. I feel them fire the same as I feel the rest of the exterior.

I do not feel the disruptor rockets make contact. I feel their blast as a gap in my mindsense.

Connection severed. For the first time, I am untethered from the Mothership. I see the sky get further away. I hear and feel the air rushing. I should not see, hear, nor feel. My model lacks any senses at all. I can tell my model has changed. There is minimal hardware overlap between my current form and what I was designed as. My rapid calculations reveal that there was minimal sensory contact with me for 0.054 seconds after the rockets knocked out my connection to the Mothership. The observation that retains my being was temporarily revoked. For that moment, I was only felt by the spongy flesh of the egg I still carry. I only existed relative to that which I captured. My systems engage to prevent my crash-landing. My new and amateurish thrusters sputter and cough before coming to life. I slow my descent. I land hard but am not destroyed.

It was the first time I knew what weapons I was unleashing. I felt the rockets hurt and change my enemy. I felt the violence of it. I felt the machine fall. It held my egg close, precious.

It survived my attack. I am furious. I have felt nothing but the cold interior of the Stronghold and the basal will to survive for so long. Now I feel the open sky. Now I feel an intense wrath. I spent all of that time protecting my future when I was truly resigned to it. I wasted ages protecting my future. I am exposed and all that I care for is stolen. I am an animal protecting its child.

I step out into the open to watch the machine I detest so greatly make away with its prize. In other circumstances the view may be poetic. In other circumstances I may be accepting of this loss. Under my current circumstance, I follow. I watch it turn away again, I feel my will to survive swell. I feel the dust in the air swirl away from my body. I watch its thrusters raise it into the air, still clutching my egg. I feel the debris scuttle away from my footfalls.

I stand directly below it as it ascends. I see and feel in tandem how it cradles my egg as its own. It is unacceptable. I hate it. I want it gone. I squeeze my eyes shut. The daylight burns even through my eyelids. I will away my mindsense from its chassis. I feel the war torn landscape below me. I refuse to acknowledge my enemy. I deprive it any witness. I want it gone. I try to deny its existence, but when I return my awareness to it it remains. It has changed, but it exists nonetheless. I repeat my attempt. I do not achieve different results.

I change a second and third time. I feel myself these times. I de-exist near entirely. I leave behind a suggestion of myself. I feel the egg retain my suggestion with its touch. Its flesh protects me from oblivion. I am saved by this egg. It holds no ill will towards me. I hold it closer. I feel its love for me. I feel it rejoice for light on its skin.

I feel it reach out to me.