thysius reblogged

First steps: an AI x Reader

AI x gender neutral reader. SFW.

Summary: You are introduced to your new mechsuit AI. ~~Honestly just an excuse to introduce my AI character while providing some robo fluff content for y’all~~ —

You heard the rumors about him before you even met him.

Well, not about him specifically, but about all mechsuit AIs. You heard that they were rude. You heard that they were rowdy. You heard that they were fundamentally broken, the rejects, advanced enough to provide basic combat functions but never having passed the test to become one of the military’s autonomous units. They were the rejects, meant to originally pilot starships in the vast space beyond but now confined to a single armor unit a fraction of the size.

You were told his name before you entered the hanger. His name was the same letter-number combo as your suit assignment. The other recruits laughed and started making lewd puns with the names. You didn’t.

You were lead into the hanger and told by your commander to have some respect. The typical speech required by the AI rights act. Nobody listened. You maybe caught a word or two but you were so nervous you couldn’t focus.

The leader released you from your line to find your mechsuit. They lined the wall of the hanger, each one as identically silver as the next with a soft blue underglow, telling you that the AI system within each suit was online. Watching. Waiting.

You ignored the other recruits and jogged to find your suit. With luck, your suit was on the far end, away from the others. You read the engraving on the side of the suit. A-35. You could feel his presence watching you as you approached.

You climbed up the ladder, onto the platform, and waited. You composed yourself before crawling into the mechsuit.

You secured yourself like how you had been trained to do in the simulator, except this time the fitting felt… right. No smell, no sweat from countless other trainees, and everything fit around you like a glove. You linked up to the heads-up-display like normal, but surprised to find that your view had no obstructions; there was no status bar, no ammo count, no crosshair. Not yet.

That was when he first spoke. “Welcome, pilot.”

“Hello.” You replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

He sounded surprised. His voice seemed to soften.

“Now, back to the introduction.” He seemed to make a little noise, almost as if he were clearing his throat if he were human. “I am A-35, your suit AI. It is my duty to protect you at all costs.”

You felt the suit around you constrict ever so slightly. A reassuring, protective pressure. Already the suit felt so alive with his presence. You were starstruck.

“Anything to say to that?” He asked.

“Thank you.” You said. “Hopefully, I’ll be protecting you to.”

Now he was the one at a loss for words. After a pause, he said. “Well, the best way to protect the both of us is to listen to my advice when I give it. It’s my job to analyze the situation in the field and suggest the best course of action.”

“Sounds great. I’ll use all the help I can get.” You said.

He made another strange little noise, a noise of surprise. But he said nothing, and a silence filled the air.

You began calibrations, turning the head of the suit left and right (in line with your own movements, of course). You caught glimpses of the other mechsuits. They were dead still.

That is, until one suit fell over and ejected its pilot a fair ways into the air, a loud error noise playing out into the rest of the hanger. It caused you to flinch. Your own mechsuit would have shuddered with you if A-35 had not stopped it. The ejected pilot let out a loud string of curses and started kicking the machine, spewing toxicity all over and you grimaced.

“Would you like me to censor that idiot’s outburst for you?” A-35′s calm voice chimed in over everything else.

You nodded enthusiastically, and the audio adjusted. The frustrated pilot was nothing more than a soft murmur in the background. You relaxed again.

“You’re not going to eject me, are you?” You asked with a hint of a smile.

“Not unless you call me ‘second-rate computer whore’, as D-19 reports her pilot just called her.” As he replied, a small arrow on the heads up display underlined the engraved number on the suit that just ejected its pilot.

“What a horrible thing to say!” You agreed.

“Well, I must be grateful that at least you are subverting expectations.” A-35 said.

“Subverting your expectations?”

“Oh yes. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but I was told that all mechsuit pilots would treat us like, well, objects. That they wouldn’t consider us higher than a smart phone assistant. You’re providing a wonderful counter to those assumptions.” He replied

Another mechsuit from the line stumbled awkwardly forwards. Each step it took was in a different direction, as if each of its limbs couldn’t agree as to where to go.

“What’s happening over there?” You asked.

A scanning circle appeared, following the errant movements. “It appears that E-94′s pilot is trying to overcome basic movement control protocols.”

“Commander told us we weren’t supposed to move until we were given permission.” You made the connection.

“Exactly. Oh dear, poor E-94…” A-35 replied with dismay.

The mobile mechsuit was quickly apprehended and returned to its spot in the hanger by the supervising security, and its pilot was escorted out, alongside the pilot who had been ejected prior.

When the two left, you said, “let’s continue calibration.”

Calibration was something you had done dozens of times, but this time was different. Instead of the emptiness of the trainer, you could feel A-35 learning you, taking in how you moved inside the suit and adjusting the outside to match. The interior padding pressed against your body rippled with the sense of him, leaving your breathless. You were dismayed when it was all over, when you felt his close attention to your body fade and focus elsewhere.

“Calibration complete.” His voice soothed you only slightly. “Now, would you like to ask permission to begin physical trials?”

Permission to move. “We can ask that already?”

“You’ve passed the personality sync, with flying colors I might add, and have finished calibration. There’s nothing else to delay for.” He answered.

“Contact commander.” You said. You tried not to shake with excitement.

“Sending request to commander now…”

It felt like an eternity, before in the corner of your heads up display appeared a small message system. There was a pinprick of green. Permission granted.

You hesitated. “Ready?”

“Waiting on you, pilot.”

You swung your leg ahead of you and leaned forward. The mechsuit responded almost perfectly in line with your movements, the mass of hulking silver metal gliding through the air before making a resounding impact with the floor. You couldn’t contain your awe and paused, letting a giggle slip out.

“Are you going to stop there?” A-35 prodded cheekily.

On your heads up display, A-35 laid out your plotted path, a blue holographic line overlayed onto the hanger floor. You took another step forward. Your step hit the ground with such finality yet it was effortless to take the next one, and the next one. Before you knew it, you had crossed the hanger and were now in line with the hanger door, sealed tight in front of you.

You were breathing fast from the thrill. You looked around your heads up display, trying to find the place where his presence felt the strongest. You simply uttered, “we did it.”

“Well, one would hope that this isn’t the most dramatic thing we ever do together.” A-35 said.

“That’s not what I meant, you dork.” You replied.

He laughed. His laugh was quiet and was the most mechanical-sounding noise to have come from him yet. It sounded somewhat tinny, distorted, and frankly it was quite infectious, leaving you laughing as well.

The hanger door opened. Beyond it laid the basic training course. You looked behind you. None of the other recruits had moved yet. Some of them hadn’t even started basic calibration.

“Should we wait for them?” You asked.

“Do you want objective facts or my personal opinion?” A-35 replied calmly.

“Hit me with that opinion.”

His illusion of calm quickly broke. “If they can’t catch up, that’s their problem. Let’s go!”

You didn’t need to be told twice.