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11. THE ORIGIN -By Blitz

                Blitz's POV

Brace your mind, this story might excite your human comprehension.

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I should begin with the red man who crept through the border. Except he wasn't a man because he was neither from nor on Earth. He was on Chargeora; the planet of two Fields. And we-- the inhabitants of the Blue Fields-- gaped in awe as we gazed upon our neighbor's form for the first time in millennia.

I was only recently 'born' through one of the bio generation chamber but I had the collective memories of the first-gen Rotores. Enough common knowledge to recognize that that red creature was defying nature by breaching the borderline between the Red Fields and the Blue Fields. It was historical, no one had ever fully crossed through. And yet there he was, bent over on all fours, slowly and painfully crawling farther into our blue soil.

I gazed up at the eternal Blue Aurora above and wondered to whatever god might be looking down on us 'who is this maniac?'

Surprisingly, the stranger spoke the same tongue as us. He cried out for help as his skin began to corrode from incompatibility. With every passing moment in our atmosphere, the breacher degraded. Luckily for him though, our species were in a Golden age of technology and were able to run through a myriad of experiments in a short time to create an antidote that not only reversed the effects of exposure to our atmosphere but also modified him to be resistant.

This antidote was administered to him in the healing hub; the honeycomb megastructure that floated at the center of the Blue Fields. He gave us his gratitude when he recovered and the first-gen Rotores in the ward with him inquired what brought him across the border. He explained that his people were savages and lovers of war. That in their society, only the most violent rule. That he was labeled weak and according to custom, he was sentenced to annihilation. Refusing to resign to fate, he made for the border while being hunted.

I was hovering by a corner of the glassy ward, taking in this historic encounter.

The Alx looked so much like the first-gen Rotores who attended to him; two arms, two legs, and spiky joints.

The only difference was his red color and two large beady eyes compared to the first-gen Rotores' blue color and four small beady eyes.

But there and then they acted like friends, seemingly oblivious to all differences.

During their  conversation, the Alx told the first-gen Rotores he didn't want to go back across the border. But the Head of the Blue Fields High Council, a first-gen Rotore by the name of Sivkida was present in that room and she convinced not only the Alx but also other Rotores that there was an opportunity to bring civility to the other side of the planet; an opportunity we were 'destined' to seize. In mere moments, she had assembled a small team to join her in scouting the other side. Among them was the runaway Alx who still didn't want to disclose his name. They also went along with a little military might in case worse came to worse. Till this day I still maintain that they should've been more prepared.

The top researchers among the first-gen Rotores formulated antidotes for the Red Field's impact on the skins of the journeying crew.

It still didn't dispel the bad feeling in my core but we, second-gen Rotores, were only few and considered as barely above labrats. We didn't have a say in our society--only the role we were created for. And I was created to serve the military. To be their ultimate weapon. But they failed to implement my upgrades until the last minute.

The Blue Aurora danced a million times and after that, a million times more--yet there was no sign that the Head of the High Council and her crew were returning, not even a sound from across the border when I hovered at its threshold.

Anticipation dwindled, and eventually, we moved on; channeling our energies towards advancement of our great society. We were able to erect Spacescrapers; magnificent structures of glass like diamonds that towered beyond the Aurora itself into canvas of space.
And we built light-speed hover pods that made commuting even more seamless-- among other grand inventions. We really had developed every aspect of our lives except. Every aspect except the military.

The invasion happened so suddenly. One moment, there was calm, the next, there were crimson titan-sized killer robots charging through the border, unsusceptible to the atmosphere's effects. The skies were invaded by flying Alxs with buzzing wings and nuclear rocket launchers. Needless to say, their deadliest blow was the myriad of proton bombs that rained upon us from the sky. It was utter chaos. A quick war.

In an instant, the Blue Fields was nuked and the killer bots towered from the fuming pillars of smoke to consummate the massacre and demolition; tearing down whatever was left of our dear civilization. They were merciless. Was whatever offense we caused them worth that much?

I and the other few second-gen Rotores were rushed through the chaos into Fusion Fort; our birthplace. It was a Space scraper at the very center of the Blue Fields. And the only one with a level 10 forcefield to guard the precious resources and facilities in it.

Morphologically, we were an electron core coated in miniature electron-plate extensions, giving our bodies a sort of white boomerang shape structure with a seemingly floating head. Just like your suit's mask, our faces only had eyes. Sounds were produced by manipulation of the airwaves around our cores.

Indeed we were imbued with much more potential by the first-gen's top scientists. And they planned to unleash some of that potential before it was too late. They plugged me in first and began to integrate a complex military algorithm into my core's sequence as well as initiate a biological modification of my electron-plates with the aim of making me their first and best war machine to even the playing field.

Unfortunately, the process would take a few star twinkles too long. The Alx Army were already at Fusion Fort, bombarding the forcefield with a series of attacks. So much power was redirected to fortify it, making it only possible for one second-gen upgrades at a time.

I was so eager to finish, to defend my makers and brethren, to execute vengeance on those red monsters. But the process was irreversible and still incomplete. And stopping it midway would have destroyed me. So against my burning desire, all the remaining first gen Rotores built a small spaceship around me as I lay still in my bio-enhancer pod. The whole place was rumbling and the attack noises had grown louder. I kept thinking it was all too sudden, all too soon.

As the control panels displayed that the forcefield had been breached, a first-gen hit the launch button and with a great blast of energy, I was boosted up into the sky and beyond.

It wasn't until I was far out in space that the thrusters stopped. The dead silence was bitter. I watched through my pod as the autopilot selected a random compatible coordinate before reactivating the thrusters of the spaceship. After a long journey, the coordinates turned out to be planet Earth.

When I entered Earth's atmosphere though, the spaceship broke away into four parts whilst my pod crashed in that alleyway. And so began the tales of Tekeon.