Bradley sits atop this center on technology. His disposition is one of encumbered troubles and tiresome effort. “Why are we here, DOG? Is there a purpose to our being? They don’t even not notice us anymore.” DOG mechanically shrugs. He was not meant to talk. His purpose is to record, catalogue and observe student behaviour. Bradley dangles a foot with questioning melancholy and dramatically exhales. He has been here since the age of the machine began. DOG was new and his only companion. How he wished DOG could talk. Exchange opinions and inquiring banter. Their perch is one of habit and routine. DOG had scurried up the railings to meet Bradley on that faithful day 2 years ago. There was a long forgotten since time when students looked up at them in awe. Huge, confusing smiles on their yet to be weathered faces. Some were wary of the revolution, most embraced it. Preference was given to the humanoid bots now and the older models were cast aside. No purpose nor favour but still existing. Why had they not powered him down? Why was he made to dredge through an existence of futility? DOG nudges Bradley in an effort to express empathy and motors off as programming dictates his duty and action. Hand in metal head still, his mind drifts to escape. Physical and mental escape. He will see what lies beyond these walls. Perhaps there are those that will welcome him out there. New experiences and beings to learn from. The thought temporarily invigorated him and he was once more filled with purpose and intent. The law dictated that no machine is to leave the confines of his designated area. A law buried deep within each of their coding. Should the barrier of designation be breached, shut down would be imminent. Bradley would be free from this realm of existence on escape but not free in his perceived sense of the word. He would be dead within his mechanical frame. He unknowingly begins his last descent from his thoughtful perch.


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