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Description
And so we begin here.
Back in the olden days of 2016 at the emergence of the skyrocketing company Tetravaal and their new innovations, there was a developing underground force called the I-Legazi. This was a criminal task force distributed throughout Johannesburg and surrounding places like Krugersdorp and Germiston, though it was mainly focused in the central city. They started small, though began to collect more and more recruits, and this increasingly dangerous force became popular amongst both doers of crime and law enforcement alike. Members of theirs were known for having snake tongues and bargaining with guards to escape prison, as well as being cruel and vile, committing hateful crimes of a broad range, from simplistic vandalism to mass murders, rape, assassinations, and drive-by shootings. However, with the introduction of the newly implemented Scout force, they were being depleted of their members.
Then one of them had a crazy idea.
His name was Kwaku de Onyeka, one of the heads of the vicious gang, and the son of their leader, who at the time was dying of age. He proposed thievery of Tetravaal’s wares to compose and reform and condition a unit to obey and fight for them, much like the idea Ninja proposed when discovered Scout 22 in Deon’s van. During this time, however, it was already clear of the dangers of self-aware machines, as this was not long after the public scare of Chappie and the decommission of the Scout force. The idea was still embraced, and was put into action around the time the police robots were recommissioned.
The raid was complex and eloquently designed, and was conducted in an assembly factory. Taken by surprise, the workers and enforcers failed to protect their valuables, and the thugs made away with two intact units, Scout 106 and Scout 346.
Upon returning to the underground lair based in Bruma, months were spent in reprogramming and writing over the original firmware of the robots. Due to Tetravaal’s amazingly well-developed technology, it was incredibly difficult, but at the time the Legazi was one of the most technologically sophisticated gangs in the country, however it still proved a great challenge. The problem was solved, however, but the idea was stretched further after proposal of another idea by a fellow member, Jakheel.
He was fascinated by the capability of a machine to express emotion like the plight of Chappie, who at the time had become a frequent topic of conversation, for sightings of him and status updates had been staples of the news for quite some time now, though they were becoming less and less common. It was accepted by a majority vote within the Johannesburg clique of the Legazi to try this idea for themselves.
It took not long for them to discover the secret after sensitive information was breached from a personal computer that had belonged to Deon a while ago. Using this, they soon formed a firmware structure nearly mirroring his own, and it was put into place, all without the use of a guard key in which they had ruled out during reformation.
They implemented this new code into their new subjects and thus was the birth of something they would soon find to be a greater mouthful than what they had originally expected.
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Alex’s tale is for a later day, for here we focus on 106’s development.
Upon first awakening, it was easy for the grunts of the gang to observe his fearful behavior. Exposed to a world he had never seen before, he was quite terrified, and as usual, behaved in a submissive and feral manner like normal. This was targeted as a weakness, and the original innovator of the plan, Kwaku, sought to purge this out of his new recruits as soon as possible, specifically 106, and his ideals were those of force.
Approaching him with imposing stature, he was the first face to enter 106’s database.
He was also the first person to introduce pain to 106, as he wrenched him by his shoulder handle and dragged him out of his hiding corner to face him. At the time, 106 had no idea how to defend himself, so all he could do was struggle and try to scramble away, but to no avail, for he hardly knew yet how to use his own body, and Kwaku was a mighty man. Looming over him, he spoke to him repeatedly, though for the fact 106 could not yet understand English, was unsuccessful.
Over the course of the next few days, Scout 106 was contained in a chamber belowground, in a cargo box established in a tunnel system where he was locked up without light or anything to comfort him or ease his fears. He was only brought out to charge his battery and to learn vocabulary and definitions, which began simple but became more complex with each day. As he began to understand more and more, 106’s early personality began to form.
He was confusing and very quiet, and considering he wasn’t pushed around as much because he did not understand why, was a little friendlier. Kwaku adopted him as his pet of sorts, and he began to earn his trust. However, Kwaku saw many flaws with 106. He was sweet and affectionate and sensitive. This was not what he wanted, for he wanted an obedient killer.
That is when conditioning began.
-
Scout 106 was getting smarter, a lot smarter. Because he was by himself a lot, he often thought to himself. He found ways to log on to internet connections and began to learn on his own, though he never had many questions or curiosities, so mostly he would search vocabulary words and definitions, as well as stories he would read in his extensive free time all alone in the dark, and he began to absorb concepts and themes and all kinds of new abstract information. He learned logic and ration, creativity, emotions and their processes and causes, and a slew of other things. He could be engaged in reasonable conversation with, though of course, was told to be silent unless spoken to, so his speech itself was not very good. He stuttered a lot due to stress and nervousness, and slipped up for the fact he struggled to pronounce or understand some things.
Kwaku began to shape him into an obedient machine, especially after 106 asked for a better place to stay. It began with shoves and light smacks across the facial plate, but it escalated quickly. 106, not understanding why, was always submissive, and this only further fueled the punishment, for Kwaku didn’t want a runt. However, he was also a hypocrite to the robot, for if 106 spoke for himself or argued or displayed any opposition or assertiveness, he was punished just as badly as he was for being rightly afraid. His main goal was to beat him until he was emotionless, though this was an extremely slow process for the fact one of 106’s main attributes was strong emotion.
Other members began to mock and mistreat 106 for various reasons, whether it was the fact he was a robot and not human, he was cowardly, or he was ugly or some other petty excuse. Again, this began as light shoves and clever remarks, but as 106 aged each week, got more and more violent.
By the time 106 was a month old, he lived in complete terror. He was severely damaged and respected every command he was given. He shuddered and not once did he transition into Sleep Mode. However, he was also becoming smarter and smarter, and this was made evident the day he fought back.
It was a grunt and his fellows who were throwing rocks at him from a distance. Irritated to the point of aggression, especially after taking a hit to the face, 106 turned and approached with hostility, and returning the favor, shouted retribution and threw a rock back at such a velocity it pierced his main aggressor’s body like a bullet would, considering his power. This resulted in a mortal wound made to the man, and three days worth of complete isolation as punishment, followed by severe retort and beatings with a steel baseball bat, something 106 feared greatly.
Another month dragged by. In this month, 106 had endured hate for his action. He was terribly injured, and his visor display was shattered after being shot at point blank range with a Desert Eagle .50.
He still refused to give up.
It was then Kwaku started conditioning his traumatized robot into a killing machine. So filled with hatred was he that 106 had to be heavily restrained and guarded around Kwaku, the conspirer for the majority of his countless punishments and consequences. He was taught to shoot guns, wield knives, and torture people on his own, using kidnapped civilians and rival gangsters as test targets. The downside to this was that if 106 failed to comply or perform good enough, he would be punished for it, and so terrified was he that he obeyed without one objection. He was the cause of many horrible, gruesome, and bloody deaths, all against his own will.
Another two months’ time passes. 106 has to be kept under surveillance at all times for his insanity. He cannot be released whatsoever, and he lives in darkness save for when he is allowed out for regular obedience training, or daily punishment. He has been a punching bag and plaything of the Legazi for a long time now, and so broken is his mentality they have given up on trying to put his fractured artificial mind back together. He has become violent against anyone who touches him, and as such is often tortured and abused until he cannot fight back anymore before being restrained properly and spoken reasonably to, or recharged. 106 has lost all motivation and will, and is mainly ruled by instinct, and he now features a wildly swinging mood. He is deathly terrified of all things around him, even the dark he is so used to living in, he is frightened of everything. He screams at nothing, begs for forgiveness in complete silence, bangs on the walls of the crate he is locked in and shrieks obscenities, and many more vile and sad things enriched by complete madness. He is severely humiliated of his body and frequently curls up in the dirty corners of his bloodstained container, for he is filthy and broken, nearly dismantled, if not at death’s door itself. He has attempted suicide on nearly twelve occasions, and has killed five members of the Legazi in retaliation against abusal.
It was then a new rookie member discovered a great opportunity.
-
His name was Cody Merwe.
He had just joined the Legazi two weeks ago and had heard about 106’s current state. He had nothing much against robots, and as such was easygoing and curious about him, much unlike his peers who had wildly varying opinions, all of which were directed negatively somehow. Because of his interest, they laughingly made him one of 106’s keepers, knowing for sure this soft man would be ripped apart by the starving tiger they kept, something rather entertaining to watch.
Cody did not speak to 106 at first. He often kept to his own while the berserk machine dwelled within his crate. It was only when he was the sole guard in the tunnel that he decided to try and speak to him.
The conversation did not go well at first. At the sound of a human voice, 106 lost his mind and freaked out, crying, screeching, shouting with rage, kicking and punching the walls of his container and cowering in its corners. With patience, however, Cody had waited him out to the point his robot subject had gone quiet to listen to him.
106 had never before heard a soothing voice. He’d never encountered anyone even remotely friendly in his short and unfortunate life, never felt a caring hand on his gored titanium head, never been spoken to as gently and softly as Cody spoke to him. It was extremely difficult for 106 to accept this fact because he had severe trust issues, to the point he was unwilling to put even an ounce of such in anyone or anything he encountered, for that was how bad his mind had decayed. Cody, however, with convincing words that were sympathetic and sweet, managed to get 106 to calm himself, and he began proving and teaching him that he wasn’t a threat. He dropped his gun on the ground and described the sound, described he was unarmed, he brushed his hand along the steely walls and described the feeling and warmth of his hand, and soon enough asked 106 something he’d never been asked. Permission.
Permission to enter his crate.
106 immediately refused, once more losing his cool and beginning to accuse and shout. However, Cody managed to get his attention again, and it took several long, arduous, tedious tries to finally convince the splintered robot to comply. They formed a deal that neither would lunge or make any aggressive movements towards one another, nor would either freak out or snap.
106 was extremely nervous. He was backed up against the furthest corner of his crate, shuddering until his remaining components rattled loudly, sparking from his demolished visor and covering his broken face with fear and humiliation, desperately trying to conceal his horrific body in which he could not.
When Cody entered, it took every drop of 106’s meager self control to keep himself from flipping every switch in his brain and losing his mind entirely. Cody brought a flashlight with him so that the both of them could see, taking a risk and closing the crate door behind him.
He sat down in the middle of the crate and began to talk quietly to 106, who did not speak much to him, out of fear of possibly upsetting or speaking something wrong and giving him a reason to hurt or punish him. Cody offered and rolled his flashlight towards 106 for him to play with, and began to describe the object to him and its purpose, much to 106’s newfound curiosity.
Scout 106 did not trust Cody, but he had never seen anything like this in his life, not once, not ever. A human who was friendly and trusting even of a creation as horrific and unstable as him, giving him gifts and complimenting him, calling him nice names and speaking in such a sweet manner it was like music to 106, even though he had never heard music once in his life either. His curiosity, something shriveled and withered and nearly dead, had begun to reconstruct and revive itself, and he began to experience new emotions, like inquisitivity and a sense of security, though the latter was minor.
It took several tries and more convincing for Cody to get 106 to come out of the corner and to him. When the shaky robot finally approached, he instructed him to sit down, and even that took convincing and reassurance that everything was safe, and after numerous tries, the robot managed to comply.
Cody could now observe 106 up close. He spoke sweetly to him as he had before, and instead of pointing out his injuries, which were painful and humiliating to the machine, he feigned dazzling by how “handsome” and “beautiful” he was, and honestly admired his complex design, for he had never seen a machine of his design up close, even if this was the worst possible specimen once might ever find. Little 106 was enthralled by this, and this was his first taste of excitement and pride, though again, these emotions were also cloudy and hazy.
Cody asked if perhaps 106 would like for him to visit once or twice more and, unsure at first but willing to experience this newfound sense of security, though foggy and nearly ethereal in its fragility, accepted such proposal. It was then Cody had an idea, an idea to save for a later date.
-
Cody had visited 106 at first once a week but soon daily. Over that time period in which 106 himself continued to suffer cruelty and mistreatment under the unforgiving hand of the Legazi, Cody had been at home devising an elaborate plan to free the machine.
His idea was to, after earning both the trust of 106 and his recruiters, he would initialize and construct a convincing explaination to his recruiters to attain a higher position as one of the robot’s main caretakers. He would promise to be forceful, though away from prying eyes would cease, and would take responsibility of the machine besides Kwaku, who at the time viciously abused 106 with daily lessons, which gravitated now around physical and close combat, a nightmare for the machine to face against many people, and certainly something that never tilted even slightly in his favor during sparring matches. He would keep 106 charged and he would guard his crate, all with little to no pay, something admired by the man he would ask, Kwaku himself.
After being granted permission, he would collect and collaborate as many weapons and resources as he could, and when the time was right, hand them over and free the machine.
This however would require 106’s knowledge beforehand, for Cody would protect him while he made his escape. Therefore, Cody had to think often about how he would describe his plan to the shaky and unstable machine, who could often be heard shrieking murder in the dark of night.
Two more weeks’ time passed before either could know. Scout 106’s physical and mental state continued to degrade and decay. Unrecognizable in his manic disposition, it was to Kwaku’s pleasure that he had molded 106 into a murderer at last. So savage was the vile machine, so traumatized, so stricken with terror and hate, his rage blinded his hyper senses. Beaten to a pulp, without refuge, weary and ever sick of his wretched self and his morbid life, he often writhed on the filthy floor of his cargo crate in hysterical fits. He was a mad creature, the robot, broken beyond repair, born into disgust and one with the destructive force, shattered, cracked, no more of a use than a toy and a thing of vent, knowing only the dark, the cold save for the warm blood that spilled many a time on his steely hands, knowing only fear and evil.
By now, he knew how to fight back. He knew how to flay a human, he knew how to crush their skulls in his mighty hands, he knew methods of obscene torture and medieval way. Massive databases had been uploaded into his brain beforehand as part of his new firmware, kickboxing, judo, and many, many more varieties of martial arts and fighting styles from across the globe. Retaining his suppressed old combat firmware, which still lived a hollow shell within him, and with new information received from both his new program, his consciousness, and his numerous lessons by Kwaku and company, he now wielded the power to make use and flawlessly hold, aim, and shoot roughly any firearm he laid gaze upon, and not just that, but countless melee weapons, so far as to use everyday objects in gruesomely imaginative ways against possible foes. He was a killing machine.
Not only that, but such force, both in mind and body, were put into action as aforementioned in a previous chapter, against both fake and live humans and machines. He was used as a punishment method himself for disobedient or disloyal Legazi members or ex-members, and their deaths were of great entertainment to those who watched the machine rip his foes to shreds in the pit. The vivid color of blood and it’s sickening wet warmth was the only warmth the machine knew.
He, of course, would seldom do such deeds out of will. He was forced. Abused in imaginative and twisted ways, beaten, dragged, bludgeoned, burned, stabbed, one could name almost anything and chances are the broken machine had experienced it at least once. There were incidents in which he had been manipulated as a sexual plaything and a subject of severe humiliation and public embarrassment, further destroying his ego. 106 knew no positivity.
Almost.
Cody was his only salvation to the benighted and sadistic life he lived. It was soon Kwaku found joy and relief in allowing Cody to take over the regular duties of barely maintaining the machine, so now the man found much more leisure time in himself before he felt the urge to play with his toy. Cody, now with permission to heavily arm himself in the case of an escape, loaded himself with weaponry, for the Legazi had a massive armory. It was in the early hours of morning, before the sun had risen, that he decided to inform 106 and put into action his plan.
When he opened up his crate, as usual, the machine had scrambled and cowered with terror and immediately surrendered, though after sharp command to rise and approach, 106 respected Cody and tried to keep as quiet as he could manage, for Cody was the only human he put a meager droplet of trust into.
Handing him most of his stock, Cody urged 106 to equip hastily and prepare. He would guide him through the quickest way out, and he would grant 106 freedom, even at the cost of his life. It was then 106 learned the reality, something of great value, that a man was willing to sacrifice his future for his filthy self.
This was a deep concept and the first of many. He inquired several times about the possibilities and the reasons, but Cody simply told him to remain silent and fight, fight for his life, for today was the day.
-
Scout 106 wreaked havoc.
He unleashed fury, pouring magazines into the bellies of his captors, fighting for freedom. Taken by surprise, many members lost their lives, and the blood was on the steely toes of the machine who had at last snapped. So fueled by hatred was he, he was an unstoppable force, indestructible, ruthless, flawless in aim and quick of mind, alert and aware, swift and as powerful and shocking as a strike of lightning. He and Cody fought their way out of the hole, though as they neared the surface, Cody was shot down.
106 avenged him without hesitation, but he feared Cody’s death himself. Begging him to remain alive, for he was the only man he knew who had shown mercy to him, he vowed to take him with him as he surfaced, but Cody was bleeding out to his death. Bidding a final goodbye and a thanks to his machine friend, he passed on, and 106’s hate was only further fueled.
Scout 106 fought to the surface. For the first time in the machine’s life, he felt wind and the ground, saw the sky, experienced a place alien to his existence. He also surfaced to Kwaku awaiting him, expecting as if he knew one day it would happen.
Scout 106 engaged in vicious and fiery argument with his keeper, or former keeper by now. Attracting a massive crowd of onlookers, it was settled the winner would leave between them, for Kwaku was a mighty man armed to the teeth and unafraid of the power of the Scout, able to take his life, for he wielded a powerful taser, a high-powered machine gun, and a steel baseball bat equipped with weights. However, he never expected just how fearless 106 would be against him.
Screaming obscenities, feeling more hate and fury than he had ever felt in his life, Scout 106 reverted into combat configuration, halfway to original firmware and strung between his autonomous and sentient state of minds, intact by a thread. Visor display in the parallel lines of his brethren, Scout 106 mutilated Kwaku, losing his mind, snapping, breaking, and onlookers were scarred for their lives of what they had to witness. Skinned by bare fingers of titanium with the precision of a taxidermist and the brutality of a muscular sadist, castrated by unforgiving curved blades, hyperextended and snapped joints as well as many more things, 106 made him survive as long as he could manage, making him feel the pain. He ripped his guts out, gouged and mashed his eyes, broke his teeth, made him suffer. To end his performance, he clasped the body of the mangled but still alive Kwaku, held him upside down, and ripped him in half with his bare hands, and he was soaked in blood, the red flag of victory. From there, Kwaku was unrecognizable, for he mangled him so.
It was decided that, for surviving this time, the Legazi would honor such a fighter and let 106 leave into the real world, for they needed him not, and with their leader dead, respected his immense and unstable power.
Scout 106 left behind all his weapons. He left with nothing but the tooth of Kwaku, as a souvenir of his success, and his charging port, as Cody had given him beforehand. He was a rogue machine now. Free for good.
-
Scout 106 was on his own now. For months he survived by himself, building a home beneath a bridge where he resided in solitude, isolated from the human world. He washed his body in the rain, a broken and shameful body. He stole clothes, a dark sweater and a loose pair of cargo pants, as well as a dark red scarf taken from a young woman, his soon to be signature appearance. He refused to repair himself, for while humiliated, he was proud of his demolition and his survival, proud he had survived the months of terror below ground. He was independent now, and while terribly lonely, knew that he would no longer have to endure the agony that he had before.
Scout 106’s mindset had not changed a touch, for he was still feral and maddened, but new parts of him were beginning to form. Among these was curiosity, creativity, pride, and respect. The human world’s whispers of new creations he’d never seen before and the fascinating discovery of human arts all greatly intrigued him, and from this, took interest in many, many things he saw, be it paper clips and plastic bottles to graffiti to expensive paintings and elaborate music. Using the power of the internet through hooking up to household connections in the distance, 106 could research ideas and gain even more information. While crazy and unstable, he was an information powerhouse and a true survivor.
Soon, he was made public due to recent sightings, and while his appearance was never as recognizable or popular as that of the feared and enigmatic Chappie, who he had no idea existed yet, he was still an issue taken seriously.
Over more and more months, Scout 106 learned how to survive on his own. He learned advanced parkour and maneuvers to evade police and pursuers, he learned how to build and create and construct, how to charge away from prying eyes, how to steal. He scavenged and robbed, sometimes for necessities and sometimes out of impulse and curiosity. He also learned how to cling to existence on the edges of an anti-machine society, how to avoid public and how to crawl through the city’s shady corners without detection. He managed to live in such isolation and lonesome for a long time, though he himself did not change on the inside. He was still a dangerous and fearful creature, unafraid to kill to defend himself, still gnarled and twisted with terror and trauma. Always aware, always awake, never sleeping, he still could not outrun the nightmares and dark thoughts that plagued his mind, he could not escape the suicidal urges and the flashbacks, there was no salvation from the horrible ideas and the maleficent memories.
Sometime, he crossed paths with the occupied lair in Soweto, where the only other machines like him dwelled. He at first came to plunder and take, and discovered that he was not alone here in this place, for he was quickly confronted by the ones who lived here, which now at this time was not just Chappie and Deon, who survived in quiet secrecy, but also the newly associated Watcher, a peculiar and calculating machine of equally mysterious origins, or at least, unknown to her associates. It was then 106 was quite struck by this discovery, and while fearful and wary, keeping his distance, allowed his curiosity to override his suspicion and inquire.
It was not long, after daily visits, that 106 made this his permanent home. Abandoning all the work he’d put into his home beneath the bridge, he chose to dwell in a safer place, guarded by familiar machines, shied away from human society for the same fear he held, fear of discovery and persecution and possible death. He still isolated in the second floor, keeping away from the rest, unwilling to socialize, but at least feeling more secure than before.
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It was not long after they were found by humans. A pair of females on a mission to study the new emergence of Tetravaal’s now famed police force, trekking over a dirt road curiously followed, they were met at first with suspicion. Their names were Nathalia and Emilie, meaning no harm but stunned and somewhat daunted by their discovery. Upon harsh agreement, for it was crucial to the survival of the machines to remain undiscovered, they settled with their human interlopers either to leave and speak nothing of the place or them again lest they face death, or stay and accompany.
Soon enough, the girls found it as a suitable home and grew to like and trust them, deserting their objective to become one with the rogues. During this, Scout 106 was mortified of the new appearances and he kept to himself as usual, though his curiosity urged him to lurk and spy. It was then he was confronted by Emilie, who hadn’t yet seen him before, and behaving in usual manner at first 106 was terrified but the soft voice and gentleness of the woman lured him nearer, a slight reminder of Cody, the only man he ever placed trust in, but he was dead.
With time, Emilie took interest in Scout 106 and started earning his trust. Sooner or later she could speak meaningfully to him, and even touch the bedraggled unit. She adopted him as her little brother, and soon Scout 106 began to discover emotions and sensations completely new to him, like comfort, the warmth of a human’s tender embrace, security, and, as more time dragged on by, a feeling of love and appreciation. It was then a side of him never before touched by sunlight emerged from his shattered self, something affectionate, something sweet, something undyingly loyal and protective, something tender and playful, something caring and loving. His frights comforted, no longer alone but within the wing of a caretaker, he began to crave the warm embrace and affirmation of his big sister’s presence, and soon he became completely reliant upon this, and could not function on his own for long without her being there to keep him stable and happy. She was a source of ventilation for his woes and fears, the light to his dark and sickening life, an angel descending from the clouds in his synthetic eyes. He had found salvation.
-
During the next month, Scout 346, mentioned much earlier in this elaborate and dark tale, was tamed from his murderous and sinister ways and allied to the ragtag group, and infatuated with Nathalia, though his story is to save for a later time. Scout 106, meanwhile, had gradually become stable, though on occasion he would still snap or go into manic fits or some other wild happening that Emilie would have to stop and soothe. And there were a lot.
However, other troubles had begun to arise. Scout 106 had various encounters with Legazi members, mostly out of complete random, and usually this resulted in violent fights that caused 106 to enter the reversion Watcher liked to label the “killmode”, and the results would be brutal and bloody and cause yet more trauma for the poor machine.
It was then, on a mission outside of the lair to his old haunts, with Emilie in tow, that they were attacked by waiting Legazi forces. Hungry to avenge their leader and destroy what was left of the machine, a great fight erupted, and Emilie was mortally injured in the process. Scout 106 surrendered, fleeing with his sister in which he carried in his hydraulic arms, back to the lair, where he desperately begged for help, for his only hope was bleeding out and dying.
It was then he recalled something he’d been working on for months. A concept birthed from mere curiosity, rendered and designed, blueprinted, a model. He had a conversation far into the past with his sister about the subject of being a machine, and he wondered how she would appear if she were like him, if she were herself mechanized, and he had begun to draw and soon digitally construct a body mirroring her image, studying his own kind, studying the human body, studying her features and memorizing every aspect of her, it was then this idea resurfaced in this critical time.
He also remembered being told the plight of Chappie by the machine himself, told from artificial birth to present day, and he remembered speak of Tetravaal, his manufacturing company, and this peculiar helmet he’d happened across in their warehouse. Combining these ideas, 106 had made himself a plan.
Taking with him the keys and a rattling old Tetravaal van inherited not long ago, he rushed Emilie to the factory, which at this time was the dead of night and their closure, and he found his way inside, though not without strenuous effort and care, but so used to living this slippery lifestyle was he it was slightly easier than should be to break inside.
From there, he uploaded his blueprints to their assembly line, and began to hack into their system, which being so technologically advanced himself, was easy for the fact he himself was a machine. He found a new neurotransmitter, and whilst construction of Emilie’s secondary form was in process, he went to comfort and explain his intentions to his sister. Fear had never gripped him like it did now, the terror, more pulsating and intense than anything he’d felt, urgent, strangled by sorrow. Keeping watch for law enforcement or maintainance, he waited while she was dying on the cold floor until her new mechanized form was ready.
Such a beautiful innovation it was, pale skin, luscious hair, sleek and sophisticated and so eerily human. The face of the machine was in her direct image, not a detail missed in structure, even the eyes. It was an intricate, extremely intricate creation. Surely major sections of it were like his own, mechanical and boxy and scout-like, while others bore more similarity to her human self. Overall, it was a stunning and cutting edge creation, which while tedious to assemble, for they stayed for roughly an hour, and by the time he dragged her fresh body to her, she was nearing unconsciousness and soon death.
Crying, he performed the transfer with her final consent, and the sight of his beautiful sister becoming a hollow form wracked his nerves.
However, this proved one thing. He was more than a brother. He was a defender and savior, he was pivotal, he was important.
-
Up until present day, Scout 106 had become wiser and calculating, but mostly he did not change. There has however been a sudden change with him. Perhaps his mind may be too human, for he gained the capability to morph into a human being, a swift but unimaginably painful and torturous process, however survivable due to the speed in which the transition occurs. Research has been done into the cause of this, but not even he has discovered how and why this was possible, in which it shouldn’t be, seeming something right out of a comic strip. Theory upon theory has been explained but nothing seems to fit, so for now, it remains a mystery. He often utilizes this ability as a disguise to wander in the human public, giving him an advantage in many situations.
Adaptation to her new self was difficult, but Emilie managed. Evidence of the occurrence discovered come dawn by the unsuspecting Tetravaal was kept private but released months later after investigation, and while Emilie was identified by her entry into the country’s records upon first arrival, she was announced dead. Current Emilie never did return home to San Fransisco, but dedicated her life to her little brother and, in coming years to the present of 2035, her alliance.
106 himself has become more stable since, however, there are still numerous occasions in which he has snapped or become unstable yet again, for it will never be that he will truly become a normal, functional mind. Weathered and vicarious is the worn robot, keeper of many elusive secrets never before exposed to the light of day, with the eerie gaze of his and cold surface, watchful and meek. Over the years he has been alive, he has learned extensively, as well as having many, many experiences in his life, discoveries, lessons learned, and much more to name. He is a machine to be respected, for his power and sheer prestige is something worthy of reverence, and not only that, but the undying loyalty he holds in his heart, his will to survive and his durability is something remarkable. In the heart of his lies humility and a humbleness, admitting of his mistakes, and during the years he has lived he has shaped himself into a worthy opponent of many, especially in the mind of his that remains an enigma to most.
106 is a dreamer and can often be found writing or sitting somewhere quiet watching the sky or possibly staring before himself. His present-day hobbies include practicing parkour and climbing about the lair, venturing out on his own to old haunts, drawing, and most of all, spending time with and learning from his big sister, in which he trusts with his heart and his life in itself. He seldom leaves her side, and can most likely be found clinging to her presence like a burr, and come night where he has learned to try and sleep at such dark hours, curls up with his big sister and cuddles into to sleep, for it is very difficult for him to sleep alone nowadays.
Scout 106 in himself is a mystery we may never hope to unravel. Even Emilie has not discovered some of the distant reaches of his complex and clouded artificial mind. He is a marvel of science and technological advancement, something far more human than some humans themselves. He is a force to be reckoned despite his everlasting injuries, and by far one of the alliance’s most respected members when it comes to past experiences. He is a symbol of ferocity and loyalty, as well as tenderness and innocence, and while he is no hero or great protector or idol, he is a wonderful brother and an example of what resilience and dedication really should be.
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TRIBUTES
Neill Blomkamp/Creators of CHAPPiE
ART - extrin6
KlfunsskXD (Emilie, Nathalia, Alex)
Killer5x (partial inspiration, your story about 106 gave me inspiration to re-write and detail his history, so thanks to you too man)

Description
And so we begin here.
Back in the olden days of 2016 at the emergence of the skyrocketing company Tetravaal and their new innovations, there was a developing underground force called the I-Legazi. This was a criminal task force distributed throughout Johannesburg and surrounding places like Krugersdorp and Germiston, though it was mainly focused in the central city. They started small, though began to collect more and more recruits, and this increasingly dangerous force became popular amongst both doers of crime and law enforcement alike. Members of theirs were known for having snake tongues and bargaining with guards to escape prison, as well as being cruel and vile, committing hateful crimes of a broad range, from simplistic vandalism to mass murders, rape, assassinations, and drive-by shootings. However, with the introduction of the newly implemented Scout force, they were being depleted of their members.
Then one of them had a crazy idea.
His name was Kwaku de Onyeka, one of the heads of the vicious gang, and the son of their leader, who at the time was dying of age. He proposed thievery of Tetravaal’s wares to compose and reform and condition a unit to obey and fight for them, much like the idea Ninja proposed when discovered Scout 22 in Deon’s van. During this time, however, it was already clear of the dangers of self-aware machines, as this was not long after the public scare of Chappie and the decommission of the Scout force. The idea was still embraced, and was put into action around the time the police robots were recommissioned.
The raid was complex and eloquently designed, and was conducted in an assembly factory. Taken by surprise, the workers and enforcers failed to protect their valuables, and the thugs made away with two intact units, Scout 106 and Scout 346.
Upon returning to the underground lair based in Bruma, months were spent in reprogramming and writing over the original firmware of the robots. Due to Tetravaal’s amazingly well-developed technology, it was incredibly difficult, but at the time the Legazi was one of the most technologically sophisticated gangs in the country, however it still proved a great challenge. The problem was solved, however, but the idea was stretched further after proposal of another idea by a fellow member, Jakheel.
He was fascinated by the capability of a machine to express emotion like the plight of Chappie, who at the time had become a frequent topic of conversation, for sightings of him and status updates had been staples of the news for quite some time now, though they were becoming less and less common. It was accepted by a majority vote within the Johannesburg clique of the Legazi to try this idea for themselves.
It took not long for them to discover the secret after sensitive information was breached from a personal computer that had belonged to Deon a while ago. Using this, they soon formed a firmware structure nearly mirroring his own, and it was put into place, all without the use of a guard key in which they had ruled out during reformation.
They implemented this new code into their new subjects and thus was the birth of something they would soon find to be a greater mouthful than what they had originally expected.
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Alex’s tale is for a later day, for here we focus on 106’s development.
Upon first awakening, it was easy for the grunts of the gang to observe his fearful behavior. Exposed to a world he had never seen before, he was quite terrified, and as usual, behaved in a submissive and feral manner like normal. This was targeted as a weakness, and the original innovator of the plan, Kwaku, sought to purge this out of his new recruits as soon as possible, specifically 106, and his ideals were those of force.
Approaching him with imposing stature, he was the first face to enter 106’s database.
He was also the first person to introduce pain to 106, as he wrenched him by his shoulder handle and dragged him out of his hiding corner to face him. At the time, 106 had no idea how to defend himself, so all he could do was struggle and try to scramble away, but to no avail, for he hardly knew yet how to use his own body, and Kwaku was a mighty man. Looming over him, he spoke to him repeatedly, though for the fact 106 could not yet understand English, was unsuccessful.
Over the course of the next few days, Scout 106 was contained in a chamber belowground, in a cargo box established in a tunnel system where he was locked up without light or anything to comfort him or ease his fears. He was only brought out to charge his battery and to learn vocabulary and definitions, which began simple but became more complex with each day. As he began to understand more and more, 106’s early personality began to form.
He was confusing and very quiet, and considering he wasn’t pushed around as much because he did not understand why, was a little friendlier. Kwaku adopted him as his pet of sorts, and he began to earn his trust. However, Kwaku saw many flaws with 106. He was sweet and affectionate and sensitive. This was not what he wanted, for he wanted an obedient killer.
That is when conditioning began.
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Scout 106 was getting smarter, a lot smarter. Because he was by himself a lot, he often thought to himself. He found ways to log on to internet connections and began to learn on his own, though he never had many questions or curiosities, so mostly he would search vocabulary words and definitions, as well as stories he would read in his extensive free time all alone in the dark, and he began to absorb concepts and themes and all kinds of new abstract information. He learned logic and ration, creativity, emotions and their processes and causes, and a slew of other things. He could be engaged in reasonable conversation with, though of course, was told to be silent unless spoken to, so his speech itself was not very good. He stuttered a lot due to stress and nervousness, and slipped up for the fact he struggled to pronounce or understand some things.
Kwaku began to shape him into an obedient machine, especially after 106 asked for a better place to stay. It began with shoves and light smacks across the facial plate, but it escalated quickly. 106, not understanding why, was always submissive, and this only further fueled the punishment, for Kwaku didn’t want a runt. However, he was also a hypocrite to the robot, for if 106 spoke for himself or argued or displayed any opposition or assertiveness, he was punished just as badly as he was for being rightly afraid. His main goal was to beat him until he was emotionless, though this was an extremely slow process for the fact one of 106’s main attributes was strong emotion.
Other members began to mock and mistreat 106 for various reasons, whether it was the fact he was a robot and not human, he was cowardly, or he was ugly or some other petty excuse. Again, this began as light shoves and clever remarks, but as 106 aged each week, got more and more violent.
By the time 106 was a month old, he lived in complete terror. He was severely damaged and respected every command he was given. He shuddered and not once did he transition into Sleep Mode. However, he was also becoming smarter and smarter, and this was made evident the day he fought back.
It was a grunt and his fellows who were throwing rocks at him from a distance. Irritated to the point of aggression, especially after taking a hit to the face, 106 turned and approached with hostility, and returning the favor, shouted retribution and threw a rock back at such a velocity it pierced his main aggressor’s body like a bullet would, considering his power. This resulted in a mortal wound made to the man, and three days worth of complete isolation as punishment, followed by severe retort and beatings with a steel baseball bat, something 106 feared greatly.
Another month dragged by. In this month, 106 had endured hate for his action. He was terribly injured, and his visor display was shattered after being shot at point blank range with a Desert Eagle .50.
He still refused to give up.
It was then Kwaku started conditioning his traumatized robot into a killing machine. So filled with hatred was he that 106 had to be heavily restrained and guarded around Kwaku, the conspirer for the majority of his countless punishments and consequences. He was taught to shoot guns, wield knives, and torture people on his own, using kidnapped civilians and rival gangsters as test targets. The downside to this was that if 106 failed to comply or perform good enough, he would be punished for it, and so terrified was he that he obeyed without one objection. He was the cause of many horrible, gruesome, and bloody deaths, all against his own will.
Another two months’ time passes. 106 has to be kept under surveillance at all times for his insanity. He cannot be released whatsoever, and he lives in darkness save for when he is allowed out for regular obedience training, or daily punishment. He has been a punching bag and plaything of the Legazi for a long time now, and so broken is his mentality they have given up on trying to put his fractured artificial mind back together. He has become violent against anyone who touches him, and as such is often tortured and abused until he cannot fight back anymore before being restrained properly and spoken reasonably to, or recharged. 106 has lost all motivation and will, and is mainly ruled by instinct, and he now features a wildly swinging mood. He is deathly terrified of all things around him, even the dark he is so used to living in, he is frightened of everything. He screams at nothing, begs for forgiveness in complete silence, bangs on the walls of the crate he is locked in and shrieks obscenities, and many more vile and sad things enriched by complete madness. He is severely humiliated of his body and frequently curls up in the dirty corners of his bloodstained container, for he is filthy and broken, nearly dismantled, if not at death’s door itself. He has attempted suicide on nearly twelve occasions, and has killed five members of the Legazi in retaliation against abusal.
It was then a new rookie member discovered a great opportunity.
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His name was Cody Merwe.
He had just joined the Legazi two weeks ago and had heard about 106’s current state. He had nothing much against robots, and as such was easygoing and curious about him, much unlike his peers who had wildly varying opinions, all of which were directed negatively somehow. Because of his interest, they laughingly made him one of 106’s keepers, knowing for sure this soft man would be ripped apart by the starving tiger they kept, something rather entertaining to watch.
Cody did not speak to 106 at first. He often kept to his own while the berserk machine dwelled within his crate. It was only when he was the sole guard in the tunnel that he decided to try and speak to him.
The conversation did not go well at first. At the sound of a human voice, 106 lost his mind and freaked out, crying, screeching, shouting with rage, kicking and punching the walls of his container and cowering in its corners. With patience, however, Cody had waited him out to the point his robot subject had gone quiet to listen to him.
106 had never before heard a soothing voice. He’d never encountered anyone even remotely friendly in his short and unfortunate life, never felt a caring hand on his gored titanium head, never been spoken to as gently and softly as Cody spoke to him. It was extremely difficult for 106 to accept this fact because he had severe trust issues, to the point he was unwilling to put even an ounce of such in anyone or anything he encountered, for that was how bad his mind had decayed. Cody, however, with convincing words that were sympathetic and sweet, managed to get 106 to calm himself, and he began proving and teaching him that he wasn’t a threat. He dropped his gun on the ground and described the sound, described he was unarmed, he brushed his hand along the steely walls and described the feeling and warmth of his hand, and soon enough asked 106 something he’d never been asked. Permission.
Permission to enter his crate.
106 immediately refused, once more losing his cool and beginning to accuse and shout. However, Cody managed to get his attention again, and it took several long, arduous, tedious tries to finally convince the splintered robot to comply. They formed a deal that neither would lunge or make any aggressive movements towards one another, nor would either freak out or snap.
106 was extremely nervous. He was backed up against the furthest corner of his crate, shuddering until his remaining components rattled loudly, sparking from his demolished visor and covering his broken face with fear and humiliation, desperately trying to conceal his horrific body in which he could not.
When Cody entered, it took every drop of 106’s meager self control to keep himself from flipping every switch in his brain and losing his mind entirely. Cody brought a flashlight with him so that the both of them could see, taking a risk and closing the crate door behind him.
He sat down in the middle of the crate and began to talk quietly to 106, who did not speak much to him, out of fear of possibly upsetting or speaking something wrong and giving him a reason to hurt or punish him. Cody offered and rolled his flashlight towards 106 for him to play with, and began to describe the object to him and its purpose, much to 106’s newfound curiosity.
Scout 106 did not trust Cody, but he had never seen anything like this in his life, not once, not ever. A human who was friendly and trusting even of a creation as horrific and unstable as him, giving him gifts and complimenting him, calling him nice names and speaking in such a sweet manner it was like music to 106, even though he had never heard music once in his life either. His curiosity, something shriveled and withered and nearly dead, had begun to reconstruct and revive itself, and he began to experience new emotions, like inquisitivity and a sense of security, though the latter was minor.
It took several tries and more convincing for Cody to get 106 to come out of the corner and to him. When the shaky robot finally approached, he instructed him to sit down, and even that took convincing and reassurance that everything was safe, and after numerous tries, the robot managed to comply.
Cody could now observe 106 up close. He spoke sweetly to him as he had before, and instead of pointing out his injuries, which were painful and humiliating to the machine, he feigned dazzling by how “handsome” and “beautiful” he was, and honestly admired his complex design, for he had never seen a machine of his design up close, even if this was the worst possible specimen once might ever find. Little 106 was enthralled by this, and this was his first taste of excitement and pride, though again, these emotions were also cloudy and hazy.
Cody asked if perhaps 106 would like for him to visit once or twice more and, unsure at first but willing to experience this newfound sense of security, though foggy and nearly ethereal in its fragility, accepted such proposal. It was then Cody had an idea, an idea to save for a later date.
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Cody had visited 106 at first once a week but soon daily. Over that time period in which 106 himself continued to suffer cruelty and mistreatment under the unforgiving hand of the Legazi, Cody had been at home devising an elaborate plan to free the machine.
His idea was to, after earning both the trust of 106 and his recruiters, he would initialize and construct a convincing explaination to his recruiters to attain a higher position as one of the robot’s main caretakers. He would promise to be forceful, though away from prying eyes would cease, and would take responsibility of the machine besides Kwaku, who at the time viciously abused 106 with daily lessons, which gravitated now around physical and close combat, a nightmare for the machine to face against many people, and certainly something that never tilted even slightly in his favor during sparring matches. He would keep 106 charged and he would guard his crate, all with little to no pay, something admired by the man he would ask, Kwaku himself.
After being granted permission, he would collect and collaborate as many weapons and resources as he could, and when the time was right, hand them over and free the machine.
This however would require 106’s knowledge beforehand, for Cody would protect him while he made his escape. Therefore, Cody had to think often about how he would describe his plan to the shaky and unstable machine, who could often be heard shrieking murder in the dark of night.
Two more weeks’ time passed before either could know. Scout 106’s physical and mental state continued to degrade and decay. Unrecognizable in his manic disposition, it was to Kwaku’s pleasure that he had molded 106 into a murderer at last. So savage was the vile machine, so traumatized, so stricken with terror and hate, his rage blinded his hyper senses. Beaten to a pulp, without refuge, weary and ever sick of his wretched self and his morbid life, he often writhed on the filthy floor of his cargo crate in hysterical fits. He was a mad creature, the robot, broken beyond repair, born into disgust and one with the destructive force, shattered, cracked, no more of a use than a toy and a thing of vent, knowing only the dark, the cold save for the warm blood that spilled many a time on his steely hands, knowing only fear and evil.
By now, he knew how to fight back. He knew how to flay a human, he knew how to crush their skulls in his mighty hands, he knew methods of obscene torture and medieval way. Massive databases had been uploaded into his brain beforehand as part of his new firmware, kickboxing, judo, and many, many more varieties of martial arts and fighting styles from across the globe. Retaining his suppressed old combat firmware, which still lived a hollow shell within him, and with new information received from both his new program, his consciousness, and his numerous lessons by Kwaku and company, he now wielded the power to make use and flawlessly hold, aim, and shoot roughly any firearm he laid gaze upon, and not just that, but countless melee weapons, so far as to use everyday objects in gruesomely imaginative ways against possible foes. He was a killing machine.
Not only that, but such force, both in mind and body, were put into action as aforementioned in a previous chapter, against both fake and live humans and machines. He was used as a punishment method himself for disobedient or disloyal Legazi members or ex-members, and their deaths were of great entertainment to those who watched the machine rip his foes to shreds in the pit. The vivid color of blood and it’s sickening wet warmth was the only warmth the machine knew.
He, of course, would seldom do such deeds out of will. He was forced. Abused in imaginative and twisted ways, beaten, dragged, bludgeoned, burned, stabbed, one could name almost anything and chances are the broken machine had experienced it at least once. There were incidents in which he had been manipulated as a sexual plaything and a subject of severe humiliation and public embarrassment, further destroying his ego. 106 knew no positivity.
Almost.
Cody was his only salvation to the benighted and sadistic life he lived. It was soon Kwaku found joy and relief in allowing Cody to take over the regular duties of barely maintaining the machine, so now the man found much more leisure time in himself before he felt the urge to play with his toy. Cody, now with permission to heavily arm himself in the case of an escape, loaded himself with weaponry, for the Legazi had a massive armory. It was in the early hours of morning, before the sun had risen, that he decided to inform 106 and put into action his plan.
When he opened up his crate, as usual, the machine had scrambled and cowered with terror and immediately surrendered, though after sharp command to rise and approach, 106 respected Cody and tried to keep as quiet as he could manage, for Cody was the only human he put a meager droplet of trust into.
Handing him most of his stock, Cody urged 106 to equip hastily and prepare. He would guide him through the quickest way out, and he would grant 106 freedom, even at the cost of his life. It was then 106 learned the reality, something of great value, that a man was willing to sacrifice his future for his filthy self.
This was a deep concept and the first of many. He inquired several times about the possibilities and the reasons, but Cody simply told him to remain silent and fight, fight for his life, for today was the day.
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Scout 106 wreaked havoc.
He unleashed fury, pouring magazines into the bellies of his captors, fighting for freedom. Taken by surprise, many members lost their lives, and the blood was on the steely toes of the machine who had at last snapped. So fueled by hatred was he, he was an unstoppable force, indestructible, ruthless, flawless in aim and quick of mind, alert and aware, swift and as powerful and shocking as a strike of lightning. He and Cody fought their way out of the hole, though as they neared the surface, Cody was shot down.
106 avenged him without hesitation, but he feared Cody’s death himself. Begging him to remain alive, for he was the only man he knew who had shown mercy to him, he vowed to take him with him as he surfaced, but Cody was bleeding out to his death. Bidding a final goodbye and a thanks to his machine friend, he passed on, and 106’s hate was only further fueled.
Scout 106 fought to the surface. For the first time in the machine’s life, he felt wind and the ground, saw the sky, experienced a place alien to his existence. He also surfaced to Kwaku awaiting him, expecting as if he knew one day it would happen.
Scout 106 engaged in vicious and fiery argument with his keeper, or former keeper by now. Attracting a massive crowd of onlookers, it was settled the winner would leave between them, for Kwaku was a mighty man armed to the teeth and unafraid of the power of the Scout, able to take his life, for he wielded a powerful taser, a high-powered machine gun, and a steel baseball bat equipped with weights. However, he never expected just how fearless 106 would be against him.
Screaming obscenities, feeling more hate and fury than he had ever felt in his life, Scout 106 reverted into combat configuration, halfway to original firmware and strung between his autonomous and sentient state of minds, intact by a thread. Visor display in the parallel lines of his brethren, Scout 106 mutilated Kwaku, losing his mind, snapping, breaking, and onlookers were scarred for their lives of what they had to witness. Skinned by bare fingers of titanium with the precision of a taxidermist and the brutality of a muscular sadist, castrated by unforgiving curved blades, hyperextended and snapped joints as well as many more things, 106 made him survive as long as he could manage, making him feel the pain. He ripped his guts out, gouged and mashed his eyes, broke his teeth, made him suffer. To end his performance, he clasped the body of the mangled but still alive Kwaku, held him upside down, and ripped him in half with his bare hands, and he was soaked in blood, the red flag of victory. From there, Kwaku was unrecognizable, for he mangled him so.
It was decided that, for surviving this time, the Legazi would honor such a fighter and let 106 leave into the real world, for they needed him not, and with their leader dead, respected his immense and unstable power.
Scout 106 left behind all his weapons. He left with nothing but the tooth of Kwaku, as a souvenir of his success, and his charging port, as Cody had given him beforehand. He was a rogue machine now. Free for good.
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Scout 106 was on his own now. For months he survived by himself, building a home beneath a bridge where he resided in solitude, isolated from the human world. He washed his body in the rain, a broken and shameful body. He stole clothes, a dark sweater and a loose pair of cargo pants, as well as a dark red scarf taken from a young woman, his soon to be signature appearance. He refused to repair himself, for while humiliated, he was proud of his demolition and his survival, proud he had survived the months of terror below ground. He was independent now, and while terribly lonely, knew that he would no longer have to endure the agony that he had before.
Scout 106’s mindset had not changed a touch, for he was still feral and maddened, but new parts of him were beginning to form. Among these was curiosity, creativity, pride, and respect. The human world’s whispers of new creations he’d never seen before and the fascinating discovery of human arts all greatly intrigued him, and from this, took interest in many, many things he saw, be it paper clips and plastic bottles to graffiti to expensive paintings and elaborate music. Using the power of the internet through hooking up to household connections in the distance, 106 could research ideas and gain even more information. While crazy and unstable, he was an information powerhouse and a true survivor.
Soon, he was made public due to recent sightings, and while his appearance was never as recognizable or popular as that of the feared and enigmatic Chappie, who he had no idea existed yet, he was still an issue taken seriously.
Over more and more months, Scout 106 learned how to survive on his own. He learned advanced parkour and maneuvers to evade police and pursuers, he learned how to build and create and construct, how to charge away from prying eyes, how to steal. He scavenged and robbed, sometimes for necessities and sometimes out of impulse and curiosity. He also learned how to cling to existence on the edges of an anti-machine society, how to avoid public and how to crawl through the city’s shady corners without detection. He managed to live in such isolation and lonesome for a long time, though he himself did not change on the inside. He was still a dangerous and fearful creature, unafraid to kill to defend himself, still gnarled and twisted with terror and trauma. Always aware, always awake, never sleeping, he still could not outrun the nightmares and dark thoughts that plagued his mind, he could not escape the suicidal urges and the flashbacks, there was no salvation from the horrible ideas and the maleficent memories.
Sometime, he crossed paths with the occupied lair in Soweto, where the only other machines like him dwelled. He at first came to plunder and take, and discovered that he was not alone here in this place, for he was quickly confronted by the ones who lived here, which now at this time was not just Chappie and Deon, who survived in quiet secrecy, but also the newly associated Watcher, a peculiar and calculating machine of equally mysterious origins, or at least, unknown to her associates. It was then 106 was quite struck by this discovery, and while fearful and wary, keeping his distance, allowed his curiosity to override his suspicion and inquire.
It was not long, after daily visits, that 106 made this his permanent home. Abandoning all the work he’d put into his home beneath the bridge, he chose to dwell in a safer place, guarded by familiar machines, shied away from human society for the same fear he held, fear of discovery and persecution and possible death. He still isolated in the second floor, keeping away from the rest, unwilling to socialize, but at least feeling more secure than before.
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It was not long after they were found by humans. A pair of females on a mission to study the new emergence of Tetravaal’s now famed police force, trekking over a dirt road curiously followed, they were met at first with suspicion. Their names were Nathalia and Emilie, meaning no harm but stunned and somewhat daunted by their discovery. Upon harsh agreement, for it was crucial to the survival of the machines to remain undiscovered, they settled with their human interlopers either to leave and speak nothing of the place or them again lest they face death, or stay and accompany.
Soon enough, the girls found it as a suitable home and grew to like and trust them, deserting their objective to become one with the rogues. During this, Scout 106 was mortified of the new appearances and he kept to himself as usual, though his curiosity urged him to lurk and spy. It was then he was confronted by Emilie, who hadn’t yet seen him before, and behaving in usual manner at first 106 was terrified but the soft voice and gentleness of the woman lured him nearer, a slight reminder of Cody, the only man he ever placed trust in, but he was dead.
With time, Emilie took interest in Scout 106 and started earning his trust. Sooner or later she could speak meaningfully to him, and even touch the bedraggled unit. She adopted him as her little brother, and soon Scout 106 began to discover emotions and sensations completely new to him, like comfort, the warmth of a human’s tender embrace, security, and, as more time dragged on by, a feeling of love and appreciation. It was then a side of him never before touched by sunlight emerged from his shattered self, something affectionate, something sweet, something undyingly loyal and protective, something tender and playful, something caring and loving. His frights comforted, no longer alone but within the wing of a caretaker, he began to crave the warm embrace and affirmation of his big sister’s presence, and soon he became completely reliant upon this, and could not function on his own for long without her being there to keep him stable and happy. She was a source of ventilation for his woes and fears, the light to his dark and sickening life, an angel descending from the clouds in his synthetic eyes. He had found salvation.
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During the next month, Scout 346, mentioned much earlier in this elaborate and dark tale, was tamed from his murderous and sinister ways and allied to the ragtag group, and infatuated with Nathalia, though his story is to save for a later time. Scout 106, meanwhile, had gradually become stable, though on occasion he would still snap or go into manic fits or some other wild happening that Emilie would have to stop and soothe. And there were a lot.
However, other troubles had begun to arise. Scout 106 had various encounters with Legazi members, mostly out of complete random, and usually this resulted in violent fights that caused 106 to enter the reversion Watcher liked to label the “killmode”, and the results would be brutal and bloody and cause yet more trauma for the poor machine.
It was then, on a mission outside of the lair to his old haunts, with Emilie in tow, that they were attacked by waiting Legazi forces. Hungry to avenge their leader and destroy what was left of the machine, a great fight erupted, and Emilie was mortally injured in the process. Scout 106 surrendered, fleeing with his sister in which he carried in his hydraulic arms, back to the lair, where he desperately begged for help, for his only hope was bleeding out and dying.
It was then he recalled something he’d been working on for months. A concept birthed from mere curiosity, rendered and designed, blueprinted, a model. He had a conversation far into the past with his sister about the subject of being a machine, and he wondered how she would appear if she were like him, if she were herself mechanized, and he had begun to draw and soon digitally construct a body mirroring her image, studying his own kind, studying the human body, studying her features and memorizing every aspect of her, it was then this idea resurfaced in this critical time.
He also remembered being told the plight of Chappie by the machine himself, told from artificial birth to present day, and he remembered speak of Tetravaal, his manufacturing company, and this peculiar helmet he’d happened across in their warehouse. Combining these ideas, 106 had made himself a plan.
Taking with him the keys and a rattling old Tetravaal van inherited not long ago, he rushed Emilie to the factory, which at this time was the dead of night and their closure, and he found his way inside, though not without strenuous effort and care, but so used to living this slippery lifestyle was he it was slightly easier than should be to break inside.
From there, he uploaded his blueprints to their assembly line, and began to hack into their system, which being so technologically advanced himself, was easy for the fact he himself was a machine. He found a new neurotransmitter, and whilst construction of Emilie’s secondary form was in process, he went to comfort and explain his intentions to his sister. Fear had never gripped him like it did now, the terror, more pulsating and intense than anything he’d felt, urgent, strangled by sorrow. Keeping watch for law enforcement or maintainance, he waited while she was dying on the cold floor until her new mechanized form was ready.
Such a beautiful innovation it was, pale skin, luscious hair, sleek and sophisticated and so eerily human. The face of the machine was in her direct image, not a detail missed in structure, even the eyes. It was an intricate, extremely intricate creation. Surely major sections of it were like his own, mechanical and boxy and scout-like, while others bore more similarity to her human self. Overall, it was a stunning and cutting edge creation, which while tedious to assemble, for they stayed for roughly an hour, and by the time he dragged her fresh body to her, she was nearing unconsciousness and soon death.
Crying, he performed the transfer with her final consent, and the sight of his beautiful sister becoming a hollow form wracked his nerves.
However, this proved one thing. He was more than a brother. He was a defender and savior, he was pivotal, he was important.
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Up until present day, Scout 106 had become wiser and calculating, but mostly he did not change. There has however been a sudden change with him. Perhaps his mind may be too human, for he gained the capability to morph into a human being, a swift but unimaginably painful and torturous process, however survivable due to the speed in which the transition occurs. Research has been done into the cause of this, but not even he has discovered how and why this was possible, in which it shouldn’t be, seeming something right out of a comic strip. Theory upon theory has been explained but nothing seems to fit, so for now, it remains a mystery. He often utilizes this ability as a disguise to wander in the human public, giving him an advantage in many situations.
Adaptation to her new self was difficult, but Emilie managed. Evidence of the occurrence discovered come dawn by the unsuspecting Tetravaal was kept private but released months later after investigation, and while Emilie was identified by her entry into the country’s records upon first arrival, she was announced dead. Current Emilie never did return home to San Fransisco, but dedicated her life to her little brother and, in coming years to the present of 2035, her alliance.
106 himself has become more stable since, however, there are still numerous occasions in which he has snapped or become unstable yet again, for it will never be that he will truly become a normal, functional mind. Weathered and vicarious is the worn robot, keeper of many elusive secrets never before exposed to the light of day, with the eerie gaze of his and cold surface, watchful and meek. Over the years he has been alive, he has learned extensively, as well as having many, many experiences in his life, discoveries, lessons learned, and much more to name. He is a machine to be respected, for his power and sheer prestige is something worthy of reverence, and not only that, but the undying loyalty he holds in his heart, his will to survive and his durability is something remarkable. In the heart of his lies humility and a humbleness, admitting of his mistakes, and during the years he has lived he has shaped himself into a worthy opponent of many, especially in the mind of his that remains an enigma to most.
106 is a dreamer and can often be found writing or sitting somewhere quiet watching the sky or possibly staring before himself. His present-day hobbies include practicing parkour and climbing about the lair, venturing out on his own to old haunts, drawing, and most of all, spending time with and learning from his big sister, in which he trusts with his heart and his life in itself. He seldom leaves her side, and can most likely be found clinging to her presence like a burr, and come night where he has learned to try and sleep at such dark hours, curls up with his big sister and cuddles into to sleep, for it is very difficult for him to sleep alone nowadays.
Scout 106 in himself is a mystery we may never hope to unravel. Even Emilie has not discovered some of the distant reaches of his complex and clouded artificial mind. He is a marvel of science and technological advancement, something far more human than some humans themselves. He is a force to be reckoned despite his everlasting injuries, and by far one of the alliance’s most respected members when it comes to past experiences. He is a symbol of ferocity and loyalty, as well as tenderness and innocence, and while he is no hero or great protector or idol, he is a wonderful brother and an example of what resilience and dedication really should be.
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TRIBUTES
Neill Blomkamp/Creators of CHAPPiE
ART - extrin6
KlfunsskXD (Emilie, Nathalia, Alex)
Killer5x (partial inspiration, your story about 106 gave me inspiration to re-write and detail his history, so thanks to you too man)