The Wake

large_Rise-of-the-Machine

Lightning never strikes twice, does it? Well, that was just the problem: he needed it to strike twice. It was nearly done, nearly done – it just needed energy. Enough energy to break a pylon, enough to make it come alive. Two strikes of lightning was all it needed. Nothing else could replace that, but he kept asking the same question:

“How do I replace that?”

He had already made a seemingly perfect contraption – a forked metal rod pointing downwards, its bottom pointed out of the skylight to attract lightning. If the lightning travelled down the rod, it would be split in two and weave its way down the two cables connected to the rod that led to a pair of power banks. The power banks would send the electricity to the machine, giving it power in the form of two artificial lightning bolts. It was too risky, though. A malfunction could go badly wrong, but there was no turning back now. The storm was upon them, and the lightning would strike any moment soon.

Crack! A bright white flash lit up the room. He jumped back as sparks of electricity bounced across the floor. The power banks whirred, and the thing on the table slowly lit up. He chuckled as the creaks of gears travelled into his ears. He had just gotten up, only to jump back down again. Another deafening crack filled the room. The glass in the open skylight shattered. It was another lighting bolt, and another lightning bolt wasn’t the best thing it needed right now. He had made the contraption with the power banks storing energy to make that one lightning bolt turn into two, but now his machine had been given four bolts to charge it up. The thing on the table jerked up, glowing brightly. Then the lightbulb in the lamp next it popped. The power banks exploded. As it turned around, he could see its eyes shining, but it wasn’t warming. This was it. This was the wake of the automaton.

*Inspired by Pobble 365*

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