Decrypted header information from data fragments labeled ‘Robomancer.2005’
In 2005, we found it. The megalous was hidden in a small secluded cave off of the coast of Italy. I, along with aBot, a few of my most trusted colleagues, and some men from the weapons contractors that were (regrettably) funding us, descended two miles down into the cave.
Seeing it for the first time was one of the most memorable experiences of my life. This sonic weapon that our ancestors believed was “handed down by the gods,” was in reality some sort of alien battleship. The way it was shaped when looking at it from above reminded me, for some reason, of an Atari game involving tank battles that I played in my younger days. I therefore nicknamed the megalous “Pixeltank.”
After several sleepless days and nights, we carefully gained access inside of the Pixeltank. To our amazement, it quickly became obvious that the station was still fully functioning after thousands of years. The weapons contractors that accompanied us, when they learned the station was operational, tried to forcibly gain entry and seize it from us. During this conflict, all of the members of our research team were rounded up and murdered by the ruthless contractors. aBot and I were fortunate enough, if fortunate is what you want to call it, to have locked ourselves inside the megalous before we started running our tests.
As the weapons contractors tried to pry open the hatch, aBot had an idea. If the stories about Marsyas and his reed weapon were true, the Pixeltank could be controlled by the sound of music. He plopped into the pilot’s chair. None of our own musical equipment had any effect, but we found that there were some alien synthesizers built into the control panel. aBot struck a chord, and then a played a short melody on the dusty keys. The Pixeltank started to move!
The contractors, not wanting to lose their precious bounty, opened fire with automatic weapons aimed directly for the ship, which was now floating high in the air. Luckily, the bullets were not powerful enough to pierce through the reinforced armor plating that was protecting us. As aBot and I experimented with music, we managed to learn how to fly out of the cave.
We did not stop there. The more we played, the faster we barreled through the sky, until we were even flying at supersonic speeds. I decided that we should maintain our course until we were positive that we could land safely in a remote location.
Once we were certain that we could slow down and land, we did so. It was there we parted ways. He promised to keep the Pixeltank safe while I came up with a location to hide it. We each carried an encrypted satellite phone with us. I told him to remain vigilant, and that once I found a safe place I would contact him with the coordinates.
He remained on the run for over a year, battling contractors, thieves, and government agents. He even engaged in combat with the US military during several of his daring escapes. Meanwhile, the world presumed that I was dead. After a while, aBot began to believe these presumptions and eventually lost hope that I would ever contact him.
The following audiobiography is the story of aBot, as he fought for his survival. These are the songs that he played as he slowly became mad with power and insane from self-depravation. I managed to extract these audio files from the records in the Pixeltank and archive them here for historical purposes. Along with the files I have included details relevant to the events surrounding the recording of each song.
I hope that anyone who finds these records can learn from them, much as I have spent countless sleepless nights learning from them.
The legend of the Pixeltank has its roots in the ancient world. Subtle references to it, scattered all throughout primitive
and classical writings, have baffled historians and researchers for centuries. Herodotus speaks of it as a weapon fashioned by Hephaestus in his forge as a gift for Apollo, the god of music....more