Notes: This is a character study of the entity known as the Masked Man, the Commander of the Pigmask Army. It is narrated in the second person perspective. This is a work-in-progress, and updates will be made weekly assuming that I have them ready in time. It should be rather short - three to four parts at the most. Special thanks to Lin, who linked me the best music to use as a soundtrack and likes the second person enough to help me proofread, and Curi, who cares so much for these characters that it's contagious. I hope you enjoy reading this; it has definitely been a joy to write.
Fandom: MOTHER3
Characters: The Commander, Dr. Andonuts, Fassad, Porky Minch, a number of Pigmask Army soldiers, and various enemies of the Pigmask Empire.
Warnings: spoilers for all chapters, graphic descriptions of violence, body modifications, and unethical medical practices, gratuitous use of italics, usage of the second person perspective.
Disclaimer: I do not own MOTHER3, nor do I stand to profit from this story in any form. All mistakes are my own.
cellular memory
Part I
Electricity crackles onto the skin of the back and arcs along the spinal column, through the deadened synapses and towards their neurons. The body convulses, its limbs thrashing as their muscles contract spasmodically. Organs flare into activity, their starving cells bidden back to life by the current.
And then the brain – from the spinal cord to the brain stem, and from the brain stem to the cerebellum, and then it spreads through the entire organ like a lattice, along the corpus collosum to both hemispheres, all in milliseconds.
Awareness is born with a jolt.
The eyes tear open. The lungs starve for air. The lips part, tearing chapped skin in a desperate inhale, but a tube, thick and suffocating, prevents it.
Panic and terror, primal and fierce, stab at the reborn consciousness as artificial neurotransmitters and hormones are pumped into it. Thoughts and memories of a life past flicker along the inside of the body's retinas.
Socoldbloodeverywhere Ididn'twantthisIjustwantmommy backsocoldsocoldsocold Ican'tfeelanything socold –
The body fights, the revived brain stuttering out frantic impulses to the limbs. They struggle against the steel restraints clamped against its wrist and ankles futilely, the torso arching.
IwantmommyanddaddyIwantLucas IwantIwantIwantI don'twanttodieIdon'tIdon't pleasepleasenonono –
An eye, green and still clouded from death, darts about the room, its pupil a mere pinpoint. The other remains dormant and unresponsive.
Finally, the current is transferred from synapses to circuit boards—behind the lidded eye, along the deathly pale shoulder's scar tissue and into steel, through the chest cavity, where the heart was –
Ithurtsithurts ithurtsithurts pleasestopstoppleasestop –
It stops.
Something flickers on, and in the cavity where the young boy's heart had been, a device made of gears and plastic twists and turns.
Belatedly, it contracts.
— . . . —
startup
initializing systems…
The first thing you are aware of is pain.
The current continues to surge through the vessel. It is pacifying. As your systems are charged to full capacity, the body's awareness tapers off into silence. In the newfound quietude of the – negative – your mindscape, you issue a query to all systems and request a diagnostic. Soon ones and zeroes begin to flash across your mindscape as the systems return their reports.
Neural net: operational.
Artificial heart: operational at a slightly elevated rate of 106 beats per minute to meet organic demand for oxygen and nutrients.
Arm cannon: operational and charging at 1000 V per minute.
Cybernetic muscular and skeletal reinforcement weave: responsive, integration successful.
Organic sensory input: distressed; regulating endorphin levels to mitigate.
Executing…
Error: organic sensory input unresponsive; organic component in shock due to procedure.
Cause unknown. No possible response.
Command: shut down organic pain interface.
Executing…
Success: organic pain interface offline.
Activating cybernetic sensory complement…
Evaluating organic-cybernetic neural communication…
Cybernetic sensory input: successfully processed by neural net and organic complement at rate of 20 quadrillion instructions per second.
Visual interface: online. Adjusting… adjusting…
The other eye – your eye – flares red, widening and narrowing against the bright fluorescent light directly overhead. You adjust to avoid glare, setting it to operate within optimal parameters given environmental stimuli.
Sound amplification: online. Audio-spatial orientation: online. Olfactory enhancer: online.
You experience sound – the dripping of liquid into the IV lines feeding nutrients, hormones, neurotransmitters and narcotics into your vessel; the crackle and buzz of the electricity as it flows up and down the spine; the hum of the generator, which is taxed to capacity; a gurgling sound, strangled and guttural; the hum of your arm-cannon as it gathers energy; the rhythmic clanking sound of your artificial heart; the strange, low murmuring sounds of the organics.
"—implants are regulating the boy's body themselves."
"Amazing, simply amazing –"
"Brain waves are minimal; the neural net hardware has completely supplanted the prefrontal cortex—"
Vocalizations. Words strung together into sentences. Tonal inflections. Human language: Standard. You activate the human language processor located in the brain's right hemisphere and mine audio input for meaning and coherence.
"—gratulations, Dr. Andonuts," a human is saying.
Accessing data banks: query: doctor&andonuts
Results: doctor (noun): a qualified practitioner of medicine. andonuts (name): human: project director: ultimate chimera; authority figure.
"Yes, doctor. Many congratulations," another one says. "Not even death can stand up against the majesty of Master Porky's Pigmask army."
Accessing data banks: query: master&porky&pigmask&army.
Results: ALL HAIL KING PORKY!
Error.
Command: identify subroutine.
Executing…
Results: ALL HAIL KING PORKY!
Error.
Command: identify subroutine.
Executing…
"Respiratory efficiency is now at 100%. Shall we extubate it, doctor?"
There is a lull in verbalization. Then, "Yes. Yes, of course."
ERROR. ERROR. ERROR –
Proximity alert. Activating self-defense systems.
This is not an appropriate response. All life forms have been identified to be friendly.
Command: abort self-defense – ALL HAIL KING PORKY!.
ERROR.
Fingers scramble against the metal. Legs kick at their restraints. On the other side of the body, your arm cannon begins to gather energy in its energy core.
"Doctor! Its brain waves have flared up!"
Another voice, 105 decibels. "Its arm cannon is activating!"
"Amp up the electrical output –"
The doctor now, his voice cutting over the flurry of others. "No! Bypassing the voltage ceiling will do irreparable damage to both the child and the hardware!"
The sound of footsteps and more exclamations from those assembled.
Proximity alert. hastEning activationn.
The arm cannon fires. The shot goes wide, the plasma colliding with something electrical and flammable five point seven-nine-two meters away.
Screams.
ALL HAIL ALL HAIL HaIl ALL THE pIG KINg –
Something inserts itself into your field of vision.
"Andonuts Override: six-eight-one-zero-dash-two-two-three! This is a command: abort self-defense processes immediately; enter stand-by mode."
OveRride aCceptEd: cOmmAnD receiVed. AboRtinG SeLf-defENse proCesses. EnteRing standBy mOde. SeNsorY pRoCessesss ddisaBled.
And just like that, your world goes black.
— . . . —
startup
reinitializing systems…
Reports begin to trickle in. All systems are operational.
You are not being restrained anymore, nor is there a respiratory tube inserted in your throat. The realization is belated. You now have full visibility.
You issue a command to your visual-spatial processors.
Command: process environment.
Processing…
Report: enclosed space measuring ten point nine-two by ten point one-three by ten point seven-seven meters.
Electrical devices detected. Analysis: nonthreatening.
Life form detected. Analysis: human, nonthreatening.
Identity: Dr. Andonuts.
The doctor is standing four point two-three meters away, gazing at you behind the lenses of his crude visual enhancement device. The doctor is holding a clipboard, pen poised over the paper there.
The doctor speaks, "Greetings."
You stare.
"I managed to pinpoint the source of your – erm, outburst, the other day," the doctor continues. "It would seem that blind obedience and self-aware artificial intelligences are not compatible. I have made a number of updates to your software and purged the faulty subroutines for good measure." The doctor seems to hesitate; his speech ceases for four point two-three seconds. "I haven't written a replacement for the obedience-and-glorification subroutine yet, but there's no need to tell His Majesty that, is there?"
Audio input: verbal command.
Processing command…
Error. Insufficient data to process command. Clarification required.
The doctor looks down at his clipboard and pushes at his visual enhancement device so that it rests higher up on the bridge of his nose.
You continue to stare.
"We will be running some tests that will assess a number of your primary functions," the doctor says. "Do you understand?"
Audio input: query.
Processing query…
Response: affirmative.
The doctor taps his pen against the clipboard, his brow plates furrowed. "Odd. Is there something wrong with aural projection? There was no irreversible damage to the vocal chords, and the neural net should compensate for any brain damage to Broca's area, so aphasia is highly unlikely…."
You continue to stare as the doctor speaks aloud, presumably to himself.
After twenty point three-seven seconds, he deduces the source of the problem.
"How silly of me," he murmurs to himself, shaking his head. Then, "This is a command: activate aural projection subroutine."
Audio input: verbal command.
Processing verbal command…
Verbal command processed. Activating vocabulary module… Activating vocal module… Interfacing with organic vocal projection complement…
"Affirmative."
Your vocalization is strained, and the sensation is a curious one. Air rustles against the throat, garbled. You issue a query and reactivate the organic pain interface module. Reports are received in great number, and you sift through them to find the relevant one. The throat is inflamed and dry, likely a result of extubation. Vocalization will continue to be strained until the body has healed itself; there are no possible responses. Pain is negligible, so you decide to forego the release of endorphins to mitigate it.
The doctor nods. "Good, good. It seems that your language processor and projector software is functioning correctly…." The doctor's eyes crinkle at the edges as he peers at the forms on the clipboard. "So we can begin with that as well as visual processing. Access your data banks and initiate subroutine zero-zero-four-point-two."
Command received.
Accessing data banks…
Initializing subroutine zero-zero-four-point-two…
Success.
"Initialized," you vocalize. "Awaiting further instruction."
The doctor looks up from the circular device strapped to his wrist. "Yes, yes. Good." The doctor writes something down and walks one point nine eight meters to the left. The doctor pulls out a chair and sits in front of a monitor. "A number of images are going to be presented to you. You are to state their names aloud."
"Understood."
"You may begin."
Commencing exercise…
An image forms against your retinas. It is an organism, an animal – quadrapedal and feline, with a long, curling appendage extended outwards from the base of the spinal column.
Processing…
"F. catus," you vocalize.
Another image now – a structure with windows and a door, a five species of flowering plants growing along the paved path that leads to the door.
Processing…
"A structure intended for shelter and residential functions, human-built."
It shifts again.
Processing…
"A. jubatus."
Again.
Processing…
"Human adult – male. Heuristic analysis and comparison to relevant data yields ninety-seven point five-two percent certainty that the figure is a medical professional."
The doctor nods after each of your vocalizations. The doctor records notes on his clipboard after each image, and his eyes dart between the forms and monitor following each of your vocalizations.
Processing…
"Pigmask soldier – rank: private."
Processing…
"A large body of water. Analysis of the body's size yields a ninety-eight point two-three percent certainty that it is the ocean."
Processing…
Warning: rogue process detected.
You open your mouth to vocalize, but find that you cannot.
Error. Obstruction located in vocalization channel. Origin: organic component, throat.
"Continue," Dr. Andonuts prompts.
Command: eliminate organic obstruction.
Error. Insufficient data to carry out command.
Accessing data banks…
Zero results found for "eliminating+organic+obstructions."
Interfacing with organic procedural memory component…
ERROR.
Warning: rogue process detected.
The muscles in the throat contract, and saliva is pulled into the vocal cavity. Just when it has finished pooling along the tongue, it is drained back into the throat by a ripple of muscles that seems to collide with the obstruction. The sensation is unpleasant, but you find that you can issue vocalizations again.
The image is identified, "Drago."
"There was a lag of approximately eight seconds between those answers," Dr. Andonuts says. The doctor furrows his brow plates; this is a facial shift that you are beginning to classify as an indicator of human processing. "Interesting…. Brain activity spiked in the hippocampus, amygdala, and cerebellum in response to that image. Heart rate was elevated as well..."
You stare.
The doctor exhales. "Ah, well… perhaps we should take a break. Yes, yes. We will resume testing tomorrow." The doctor rubs his eyes, his fingers slipping in behind the lenses of his visual enhancement device. "Enter sleep mode."
Command received.
Sensory processes disabled.
System shutdown commencing…
— . . . —
startup
reinitializing systems…
Sleep mode deactivated. Reactivating sensory processes…
All systems report operational.
Dr. Andonuts stands three point two-two meters away.
"Good morning," the doctor says, looking up at you from his clipboard. "Are you feeling alright?"
Audio input: query.
Processing query…
Query processed. Vocalizing response…
"All systems are operational and functioning within optimal parameters."
The doctor's lips twitch. "Well, yes. That is good to know. Shall we resume testing now?"
Audio input: query.
Processing query…
Query processed. Vocalizing response…
"Affirmative."
"Let's start with motor drills today," the doctor says. "Access subroutine zero-zero-one point three. Begin with the locomotive component, please."
Command received.
Accessing data banks…
Initializing subroutine zero-zero-one point three…
Success: commencing "locomotive drills…"
"Initialized. Awaiting further instruction."
Dr. Andonuts is already on his way to his terminal. "You may begin."
— . . . —
The day's round of tests proceeds smoothly. You do not detect any rogue processes while you engage in the locomotive drills, which consist of using the vessel's legs to walk from one point to another in the chamber. After seven minutes and twenty-five point six two seconds of repetitive tasks, the doctor asks you to assume a ready position aboard a device stationed along the eastern wall of the chamber.
Dr. Andonuts clears his throat. "Yes, erm, very good." The doctor peers at the sheaf of papers, squinting. "The device you are about to use is called a 'treadmill.' It will help us assess the efficiency of the cybernetic muscular and skeletal reinforcement weave in your legs. Access the 'extreme locomotive component' of the subroutine and, erm, do watch your step."
The device beneath you begins to move, accelerating to a velocity of ten point zero four miles per hour. You match the speed, shifting most of your processing power toward the monitoring of the reports from the cybernetic muscular and skeletal reinforcement weave and the organic component.
Stress on cybernetic muscular reinforcement weave: negligible.
Stress on cybernetic skeletal reinforcement weave: negligible.
Stress on organic component: pain detected; cause: cellular production of lactic acid. Increasing oxygen intake to compensate.
The device accelerates again after a period of exactly two minutes; its velocity is now fifteen point four two miles per hour. You adjust all parameters to match it.
Stress on cybernetic muscular reinforcement weave: low.
Stress on cybernetic skeletal reinforcement weave: low.
Stress on organic component: intensity of pain increasing.
Releasing endorphins to mitigate… Adjusting stress load distribution setting to prevent threat to systematic integrity…
Success: stress load on organic component is now thirty percent.
The device undergoes yet another acceleration. You observe that this one is much larger in magnitude.
Stress on cybernetic muscular reinforcement weave: high.
Stress on cybernetic skeletal reinforcement weave: high.
Warning: organic component nearing distressed parameters.
Adjusting stress load distribution setting to mitigate….
Success: stress load on organic component is now five percent.
Alert: reinforcement weave system has reached ninety-six point three-two percent of safe stress load.
After three minutes and thirty-seven point two seconds, the device begins to decelerate. Stress levels fall accordingly.
"Very, very good," the doctor says when velocity has reached zero. "Heart rate was constant, the neural net was able to catch and redistribute load levels in face of mounting stress, and you surpassed the record for fastest human velocity." The doctor pauses, then he inhales sharply. "If I could make some tweaks – yes… able to sustain even higher velocities…" He pauses, considering. "Well, I suppose there's always the chance that your legs will be damaged… I'll be able to make those changes then…."
You stare.
The doctor taps his pen against his clipboard. "Give me a report. Are you able to continue testing?"
Audio input: query.
Processing query…
Query processed. Vocalizing response…
"Affirmative."
Dr. Andonuts scratches his chin and squints at the screen, his features illuminated in faint blue. "It may perhaps be best to have you enter sleep mode for recovery… but I suppose we can proceed with the fine motor skills assessments…."
"Clarification required: should 'supposition' be interpreted as a 'command?'"
The doctor lifts his shoulders, then he lets them fall. "I suppose so, yes."
Accessing data banks…
Initializing subroutine zero-zero-one point two…
Success.
"Initialized. Awaiting further instruction."
— . . . —
startup
reinitializing…
Sleep mode deactivated. Reactivating sensory processes…
All systems report operational.
Dr. Andonuts is pacing two point two-one meters away.
You stare.
"We will be having a – visitor today," the doctor says. "He is some kind of high-ranking official in the army; he is the one who discovered you, in fact. I've made a number of software updates to prepare for this…." He stops and turns to face you. "Good morning," he says.
Courtesy module activated.
"Good morning, Dr. Andonuts."
The doctor nods. "Yes, good." Then, as an after-thought, he says, "King Porky."
Your body snaps to attention, the arm cannon rising to rest against your forehead. "All hail King Porky."
The doctor nods; he does not look at you. "Yes, good..."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the read as much as I enjoyed writing it! The next update should be ready by next week, so stay tuned for it!
My gratitude goes out to the readers; thank you for taking the time to read this piece. Reviews and feedback are always appreciated!