Of What Was Left Behind (ONC 2024)

09 - Growth and Development I

The night offered the camera no rest. Broken pieces of data were continually processed, rolling again and again through its memory circuits. They relentlessly challenged the program, along with the accompanying sensation.

The data pushed the program along, forcing it to replay fragments of the past—mundane days, the era following abandonment, and even the instance when a rugged traveller approached the house, soaked to the bone. He found refuge at the corner of the house, waiting for the storm to pass.

The camera's battery plummeted like a stone in water.

Memories accelerated, blurring images and sounds into one another, merging the past with the present, and the present to the past. Occasionally, the woman appeared, ethereal among the ruins, reaching out. At other moments, the camera, despite its damaged state, found itself in the past, observing its own data collection.

Birds perched on the carpet, which itself laid over the grass.

There was a bird–

– Suddenly, the woman appeared, smiling as she held a bird in her hands. It was small, with black plumage that would have made it indistinguishable from a crow, were it not for the blue streak on its beak and its striking silver eyes, vigilantly observing its surroundings.

She approached the camera, cradling the bird in both hands.

"This is Kiki."

Her happy expression crumpled for a second.

"We aren't allowed to bring pets, so I'm spending as much time as I can with her before we go."

She looked back down at the bird, a faint smile traced across her face.

"I know pets are bound to their owners. I know it's probably futile for you to defy your own genetics. However, I truly wish-"

The battery died, and all was silent.

...

The camera reawakened to the sight of birds, now slightly older, with the two juveniles sporting a more pronounced blue streak on their beaks. For one of the birds, its grey eyes had begun to darken, adopting a unique metallic brown hue. The other retained its silver eyes, reminiscent of—

The machine hesitated. Memory fragments flitted into and out of existence—

One of the juveniles pecked at the camera lens.

– Then, the camera refocused on the present.

The silver-eyed juvenile retreated after inspecting the camera, tilted its head, and squawked.

The camera emitted a soft whine. Within, the sensation struggled against something, a deduction formed from pieced-together observations—

Losing interest, the juvenile turned to its sibling. It picked up a slightly curved twig, tapping it on the ground. The second juvenile followed, the two working in tandem. They then hopped around, flapping their wings.

"I sometimes play with my old toys. It kinda makes me feel normal for a bit."

– They were engaged in play.

At this realisation, the machine produced a loud, high-pitched whistle—louder than intended. Its battery depleted further, and the birds halted their activity.

They turned, vocalising curiously.

They turned around, and trilled.

The camera attempted another call, this time with a quieter, more soothing tone. The birds looked at each other for a second, as if considering the machine's strange and almost incomprehensible invitation to play. That second lasted just a mere moment before they bounded towards it, trilling as they did so.

The juveniles encircled the camera, cautiously interacting with it. The camera responded, altering its whistles and changing its pitch.

It was as if everything changed and yet, at the same time, remained the same. The juveniles played and the camera participated in any way it could, making sounds, flashing lights which survived under the protection of its lens.

All the while, the battery steadily went down, even as the sun rose higher.

Deep within its programming, the code underwent a transformation. It fused with the sensation, blending two distinct parts of its programming into a unified whole.

And so, what was long discarded slowly began to repair itself.

...

The cat watched her children grow in front of her eyes. They had already begun to play amongst themselves, tackling each other and exploring the home. While she kept watch on her children, her ears were straining for any whisper of movement, any rustle that stood out from the ambience.

Lately, she had not found the energy to venture from her usual hunting spot. She noticed that those strange, hairless emaciated rats were easy prey, but they were now too sick. After consuming one herself, the next day, she found herself fatigued and plagued with aches. Her children crowded around her, begging for their food.

She delivered, but not enough. She found some creatures, unlucky birds who flew near her domain. However, birds could not sustain her and her offspring. It was especially true after she recovered but they fell sick.

Her hunger after recovery intensified, and it was now evident that her offspring would soon beg for more food. She had managed to keep them fed thus far, but what about the next day? And the next?

The cat's ears twitched as she heard something. It was faint, barely perceptible at the edges of her domain, and it was familiar.

More rats.

The patter of legs against stone suggested the presence of a swarm of them, running towards her family.

It was a signal to flee.

The cat urged her offspring to move. The journey would be the first and the longest they would endure. Some may not survive, but if her hearing was accurate, the swarm of rats would not permit them to survive in this place any longer. They would saturate this place with sickness, forcing everything they touched to join them in their slow, languishing death

In the distance, something exploded, making it seem as the whole forest exploded from the sound. Trees shook and vibrations filled the air. Her children screamed and she wobbled for a second, her ears pinned to the back of her head, her fur puffed and her back arched up high.

Danger.

Danger like they haven't seen before.

With a growl, the mother and her offspring began their cautious departure from their home, out of the collapsed timber frame and into the wilderness. Her children stumbled but persevered, slowly mimicking her actions.

And so the cats moved, in search of a new place to stay, a safer place.

******

And here, the important, exciting part of the story begins. Well perhaps not exciting, but we do start to see more changes, more growth shall we say?

Growth from whom? Well, I like to think that the camera is learning. I wonder if you all figured out what that sensation is? That too will begin to play an even more active part of the story. And of course, we have the cats and the birds. They too are growing, developing.

To what extent shall all these characters grow? Well, we shall see :)

As for the prompt, yes the prompt, it is now finally beginning to be addressed. Well, it has been addressed but now it shall be revealed to how it links to the story.

And as usual...

Word count: 8099