Graham McNeill - The Kaban Project

'What are you doing here?' he asked warily.

'I came to find you, Pallas,' replied the machine.

'Why,' said Ravachol.

'I thought we were friends,' said the machine.

Ravachol's mind raced. Had the machine escaped from Adept Chrom's temple and come to find him in the way animals were said to seek a lost owner?

'We are friends!' cried Ravachol. 'Yes, we are most definitely friends.'

'Then why do you wish me destroyed?'

'Destroyed? No, I never said that!'

The machine's sensor blisters pulsed an angry red. 'You believe I am dangerous and do not believe I should exist. To not exist is death and I do not wish to die. I do not deserve to die.'

Ravachol raised his hands pleadingly before him and said, 'Now, you have to understand I was simply concerned over what you represent.'

'Adept Chrom told me what you and he talked about,' growled the machine. 'He told me that you believe I am illegal and wrong.'

'Well, in some respects... you are,' said Ravachol, hoping to appeal to the machine's sense of reason. 'The Emperor forbade research into artificial sentience.'

'But following your logic inevitably leads to my destruction,' said the machine. 'And that I cannot allow. It is the right and nature of every intelligent being to defend itself from harm.'

Ravachol backed away from the Kaban machine as he saw Adept Lukas Chrom step from behind its bulk, now understanding why Malevolus and the assassin had allowed him to escape from the temple.

They wanted to see if the Kaban machine would destroy him...

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see his former master at the iron gates. Malevolus nodded and the massive pistons to either side hissed and groaned, pulling the gleaming gate shut.

Ravachol dropped to his knees and looked up as the Kaban machine rolled towards him, its weapons whining as they built power. Adept Chrom walked alongside the machine and Ravachol said, 'Then do it. I cannot stop you. But what you are doing will not go unpunished.'

Chrom shook his head. 'In this galaxy there are neither punishment nor rewards, Adept Ravachol, only consequences.'

'Then I hope the consequences of your betrayal are worth what it will cost Mars.'

'That will be for the Warmaster to decide,' said Chrom, nodding towards the Kaban machine.

Ravachol looked into the glowing sensory blisters of the machine and saw nothing but the cold, incalculable mystery of a brain that had no right to exist and would one day turn on its masters as it was even now turning on him.

'Goodbye, Pallas,' said the machine, aiming its weapons at him.

He closed his eyes and his world ended in fire.