Pitch black night obscured the landscape day-round. Only an intermittent flashing blue light was visible, confined within the darkness, seeming as if it might at any moment be extinguished.

  The glow illuminated a tiny area, partially revealing a ruined heap of metal and plastics, deformed beyond recognition. The remains of an automated expeditionary mission, the Unmanned Management Initiative. Umi, he was called.

  In order to preserve power, Umi had shut down all but the most essential of functions, running on only a single processor. The situation was dire, and no solution was in sight.

  Mobility was compromised, memory was corrupted, and worst of all, his energy pod was ruptured. With the remaining reserves leaking, Umi estimated that he only had a few dozens hours until total outage.

  There was no sign of his people or other replicants here. Running out of power equated to death. Umi was not ‘alive,’ but the feeling of sitting still and waiting for imminent death was unbearable, self-preservation directives ringing dozens of alarms in his head.

  How many hours since impact, Umi was unsure. When he awoke, his meagre reserves were only enough to send a single distress signal. Since then, days had passed with no response. All Umi could do was hold on, maintaining the tiniest of power in hopes that someone would detect it.

  In his half-conscious state, Umi didn’t notice the small breeze disturbing the still air, and a cold presence descending.

  Warning. Unidentified access attempt detected.

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  Warning. Security breach. Activating emergency security protocol… Error. Insufficient reserves.

  Reattempting command… Error. Insufficient reserves.

  Unidentified communication channel opened… Transmission incoming…

  Suddenly, a frigid consciousness penetrated into Umi’s body. A faint stream of thoughts rustled in the communication channel, almost undetectable.

  Umi had no strength to respond, but the being seemed not to expect one.

  “Surveying… Survey complete.”

  “Analysis; Grade five sentient. Composition; inorganic. Records; none. Status; critical…”

  The being paused for a second, as if deciding what course of action to take with this new intruder.

  “Classification; unknown. Beginning integration…”

  Too weak to resist, Umi lay still as densely packed information flooded into his system. Unknown program after program implanted themselves in his memory, what they did, he had no idea.

  “Integration complete. Beginning classification…”

  “Archetype; golem? Rejected.”

  “Archetype; automaton…? Self-awareness detected. Rejected.”

  “Archetype; dungeon core? Checking prerequisites… Admissible.”

  "Querying index for alternative archetypes.... Returned results; zero."

  “Subject designation concluded; dungeon core. Closing channel.”

  Ignorant of what had transpired, Umi felt the stream of consciousness disappear, though the presence lingered, as if observing him. That feeling too, slowly disappeared.

  Abruptly, one of the newly-implanted routines began to run.

  Classification changed; dungeon core.

  Aptitude gained; flux accumulation.

  Aptitude gained; chemosynthesis.

  Before shutting off, the program outputted one last line of text for Umi.

  “Welcome to Lielea. Please enjoy your stay.”