THE BATTLE

 THE BATTLE

Many moons ago, a raging war waged all around me. I was appalled at the plight of my community as human-like robots attacked us with all their might, cornered us, and pushed us like never before in all the history of our existence. We did our best to face the metallic adversaries of the modern age as they tried to exert their dominance.

 

In the heat of the battle, suddenly, I am face to face with a robot that is a mirror image of me. It even walks and looks like me to the extent that it even sports glasses like mine. It is similarly built to me but is a lot more-fairer. It sends a chill down my spine just looking at the uncanny resemblance, characteristics and mannerisms. It was shouting out orders to the other robots on the battlefield. It was apparent that it was a leader of some sort. At that moment, an extreme sense of uneasiness washes over me as the lines between friends and foes blur before my eyes. I watch helplessly as the robots attack my community with mechanical precision and coldness. There are casualties all around, the bulk of them on our side.

 

I designed an indigenous plan to combat the machines, mimicking my look-alike speaking style and shouting to distract the other robots. I do this with the hope that there might be a pause in the battle and several precious lives might be saved. Startled at this, the robot turns its attention towards me. With all of its mechanical might and state-of-the-art combat capabilities, it attacks me with pinpoint accuracy and precision. At that point, I am no match for the superior technology of the machine, and my skull cracks open. I lie injured on the battlefield, amid the chaos, fighting off pain and injury. The robot coldly walks up to me and locks its eyes into mine, sending a chill down my back as it shouts out profanity in my ears: “So long, sucker. Fuck You”.

 

Cries of other fallen combatants reverberate around me as the robots sing and do the victory march. As I spy the robot celebrating for a fleeting moment, time stands still as I question my existence, identity, and the perils of modern technology. My lookalike announces victory and enjoys the spoils of war, stealing my identity. It is only a stark reminder of the relentless advance of technology, the unsettling notion of facing oneself in a battle against the unknown, and the untold hazards of modern technology.

 

 

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