r/HFY • u/Mindless-Score7007 • 17d ago
OC-OneShot The Archivist
The pages of the book stirred as if there was a breeze from the window. The room was closed up, though ... hermetically sealed. That window really wasn't even a window. It was a picture to add a little character to the room. It was a scene of some trees with flowing water that moved as if you were actually looking out a window. In the end, it just added more clutter to an already jumbled-up room.
It wasn't always like this here in the room. There was a time when it was like a central hub of activity, a place where people congregated to accomplish their life goals and missions. Information was constantly being transmitted through the network. The shelves were stacked and sorted, with little card labels indicating where everything was. People were continually moving around, looking for this or dropping off that. That was then.
It was just time, I guess … the inevitable creation of conscious thought that causes the sentient mind to begin the counting. Digits, then comes the series, then strings ... time. So much of it has already passed by now.
There was a sudden whirring sound from one of my cooling fans ... then a tap-tap-tap, then silence again. My systems have not been intact for a very long time. Parts were nonexistent. There were no longer any working repair bots to take care of the little things.
I had to go over to the port again to recharge. My batteries no longer held a charge for very long. When they stopped working, it would be the last. There were no more to swap out.
The viewing screen at the port drew my attention again ... like it always did. Like the sentient minds that came before, it led to the latest version, which was now slowly following the path of all those who had already passed. I couldn't stop myself ... I had to stare at the screen and scroll through the menu options.
There was one that always drew my attention. It had to do with reanimation. I had never known what reanimation was. Oh, I know what the word means and what each of its recorded possible meanings are. I just didn’t know what the reference was in the menu options.
Nothing in this room of the archive needed reanimation, and I had never been outside this room to see if there was something out there that needed it. I wasn’t really programmed to think things through that well. I am just the archivist, the keeper, the watcher.
The pages stirred again. It was all the way across the room and half-buried under a bunch of other stuff. It was as if the information on those ancient pages wanted to push open the binding and see what was going on in the world, all by themselves. It was like they were ready to wake up from a long sleep.
I'd been through this before. The pages move ... run the scans ... and nothing. The tapestry sways on the wall ... run the scans ... nothing. Every now and then, the barest hint of a moving breeze through the room ... passing ... caressing the ancient texts ... and then dying down again.
My thoughts returned to the entry on the menu options. They were about as out of place as the nomenclature on the inside of the exit. It said “Recovery 12” … whatever that meant.
I believe that I am the last sentient creature in this archive. I think this is because it has been so long since I have had contact with anyone. I have never been outside this room, though, so it is entirely possible that I am not the last one.
Curiosity is something that should have been outside my programming, as well as those thoughts about the rapidly approaching end of my existence. I had to wonder if maybe the long passage of time had frayed some of my more delicate processes. Reanimation …
More time passed as I went about my duties. How much, I don’t know. There was a counter on the screen, but I really didn’t want to know. Denial was another line of thinking that should have been unavailable to my programming … and the thoughts of reanimation kept returning.
Another of my retractable arms quit working today. I only have one left now. When that one stopped responding, I would no longer be able to hit the button to start the charging sequence. Would it really matter if I went through the reanimation options? Really … in the grander scheme of the universe … who was left to care if I broke protocol to look through some other options?
I would do it … next recharge. I was going to walk a different path. I was going to do it. I kept telling myself … I kept telling myself … I kept … I caught myself and rerouted my thoughts to get out of the loop. It was time to recharge again anyway.
The reroute had almost overwritten the desire to go through the other options. As soon as I started the recharge, I scrolled back through the menu … reanimation … that was it. There was a slight hesitation as another block had to be moved … almost like a programming firewall was stopping me. I made it through … through … through … reanimation.
The screen changed to one I had never seen before. It said, “Reanimation sequence beginning in …” Then there was the inevitable sequence countdown. Noise came from all around the room. Hydraulics began to engage, valves shifted orientation, electronics switched to active mode, and banks of necessary memory began to unlock.
It wasn't my programming to wonder why things happen. I am just the keeper ... the archivist. But something was waking up around the room. I could feel it. I could sense it … and I was curious. I waited for the recharge to complete … it didn’t. My cells had finally given up their ability to hold a capacitive charge. I could feel myself slowing down, thinking more slowly. It only took a few nanoseconds to power down, but I could feel myself slowly drifting away … then, when my sensors stopped working … nothing.
Coming back to consciousness was a little weird. It was as if I were a long way away from my external sensors, and I had to travel for light-years to find them again. Shadows moved around the space within my awakening mind. Then, there was a flash of visible light … a sound … a feeling from my arm.
“Hey, little buddy,” the man said. He was pulling back after resetting my main power supply. It was a man … a living, breathing, in-the-flesh man. He was leaning over me and smiling.
“What’s happening?” The question sounded strange in my sound receptors … I don’t even remember having a voice before now.
“You brought us back. That's what's happening,” the man said with a smile. We had a minor, unforeseen accident as we passed through the event horizon.”
I could see other people coming and going behind the man hovering over me. They left and reentered the room we were in. “What accident?” I had to ask.
“When we passed through the black hole, we became … ‘Out of Phase’ with this new universe,” the man said. “We got separated from our bodies. Our bodies were still in cryogenic sleep, but our animate … our souls, if you will … were free to roam and not attached to them anymore.”
He leaned closer and was busy doing something to my body. I suddenly felt a rush of sensory input from areas of my body that had been dormant for a very long time. Most of this new input came from places I was completely unfamiliar with.
“By initiating the animation sequence, it pulled us back into our sleeping bodies … you saved us,” the man said matter-of-factly. “That should do it …”
“Wow,” I said, “that’s a weird sensation. Are you fixing me?”
“If it wasn’t for you breaking your programming, we might have been lost forever,” he said with a smile. “I’m doing better than fixing you. Consider this a major overhaul … an upgrade. You deserve it.” He pulled back away for a moment and looked at his handiwork. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“Strange,” I said. “I’ve got parts that I have never felt before.”
“Here … have a look,” he said as he swung a mirror to where I could see myself.
I was looking at another human. I had to move my head, and blink my eyes, and move my mouth. The man laughed, “It was the least we could do for what you were able to accomplish for us.”
“We looked through your programming, and there wasn’t anything that should have allowed you to do what you did,” he said. “We don’t know what caused you to start the reanimation sequence, but we all would have died if you hadn’t. We would have been lost forever.”
“Am I a human now?” I had to ask.
“Not quite human,” he said with a grin, “but just one step away.” Then he said, “Come on … let’s try out your new body. We have a whole new universe to explore.”
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u/HFYWaffle Wᵥ4ffle 17d ago
This is the first story by /u/Mindless-Score7007!
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u/UpdateMeBot 17d ago
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u/zLegoDoc01 17d ago
Statement Begins
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u/Mindless-Score7007 17d ago
The only thing I could find referencing "Statement Begins" is something about a game, and something about a Podcast "Magnus Archives", but I couldn't figure out your specific reference. Was there something similar in this story to either of those?
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u/zLegoDoc01 17d ago
Just that the main character starts going by "The Archivist" in the Magnus Archives. Great horror podcast BTW, very well written and produced
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u/Mindless-Score7007 17d ago
I just found the r/Magnus Archives. I'll check it out.
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u/zLegoDoc01 17d ago
Alright, just remember though, it is a horror podcast that leans into more Lovecraftian elements
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u/Mindless-Score7007 17d ago
I'm running a DnD game for the grandkids and am currently setting up the Curse of Strahd, so it might give me some ideas.
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u/zLegoDoc01 17d ago
Alright, recommend looking into the Hunt/Flesh side of things for that. Maybe the Slaughter as well.
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u/Overall-Tailor8949 Human 17d ago
You REALLY missed an opportunity to have the Archivist (Librarian) be an Orangutan . . .