Robots and Jungles

God, where am I? I grumble to myself as slim lights send searing pain throughout my head. I go to move but my arms are pinned, no, everything is pinned down. I can't move at all. I started to struggle. Panting breathlessly I try to recall what happened. However, the ache in my joints made that difficult. 

I was.

I was-- 

I was walking down the street, there was a lamppost, and it was raining. The night was cold. 

And now the cold is pinning me down. 

With regained breath, I push forward. 

Creaaaak...

I fall on my face. The tile is equally as cold as my previous prison; I look and see what my cage was. It's a locker. I groan and pry myself from the floor. So much for easing the pain in my body. The room is empty, mostly. Ok, I lied; the room is full, very full. Vines strung down from broken paneling and cracks in fluorescent lights, the walls are covered head to toe in grime, which I can guess is mold, and desks are the only neat thing in the area as they're pieced together in tight rows along the edges and middle of the vicinity, but the windows, the windows are most intriguing.

The windows are opaque and dirty, but that's not what's peculiar. It's the barbed wire. There's a bright red, the color of a burning flare, string of barbed wires. Wherever I am doesn't want me to leave. A chill crawls up my spine. I may as well make acquaintance with my surroundings. Leaving the room I woke in, I open the classroom door revealing a large hall. It's similar to the class, empty, but full at the same time. The ground crunches beneath my boots as I make my way forward with caution. The lush of the land nearly enveloped my being, snagging along my belts and buckles, startling me. If the plants weren't grabbing me, then the rusted ceiling water trickled down my forehead. Something was always catching me off guard. 

Perhaps I'm only jumpy. 

I find another door and shove tall grass out of my vision. It creaked and there stood another confused soul. "Hello?" I whisper, not wanting to startle them too harshly. They turn stiffly towards me, "Hello?" they call back to me, a worried expression painting their features, "Who's there?" I smile, perhaps too overjoyed to see such a scared, petrified man. I slick my pointy hair backward and strut into the light. "You new here too?" I ask. The man blinks at me, but turns his head away, revealing his neck. He bit his bottom lip with anxiousness. On the side, I see engravings carved in the nape. 'K1-b0 Idabashi Robotics' 

Isn't Idabashi a billionaire? Last I heard Idabashi had created the first sentient AI program, an AI that could feel, sense, and grow like a real human being. "From the silence, I take that as a yes.." I continue and click my tongue. The robot stammers, trying to say something, he struggles but eventually does. "Any idea where we are?" 

Disappointing him I shake my head in response, I can see the metal twist into a frown. I wonder how that works? "So.." I pause while staring him up and down, "Robot?" I inquire about the means of his existence. The robot sighs and nods, "K1-b0, I typically use Keebo though."

.

.

.

"Do uh.." I tap my foot to fill the empty noise, but also to stall. I purse my lips as Keebo looks down on me with oddity. I blurt, "Do robots have dicks?" Honestly, if the situation wasn't so dire, it's a good and honest question! Keebo's face contorts into one of flabbergast, confused disgust. "You-" he speaks indistinctly, "Can't just" he pauses again and draws a long breath. 

Do robots breathe?

 "You can't just ask a stranger that," he whines and crosses his metallic arms with a pouty lip. He was obviously displeased with my actions, but I needed an escape from the situation. I interrogate further, "Do you?" 

He neglects my claim "I'm not telling you, that's gross!" he would whisper in a shout. I may come across as borderline creepy, but I was getting a sadistic joy from seeing this AI grovel. "I just want to know!" I grouse in retort as my totally noninvasive question begged for confirmation. 

We bickered like this for an hour or more. If I am fully honest, I just wanted to keep him in one spot. In this situation, being alone is a grave mistake. If I argue long enough, maybe someone will find us. And find us, they did. 

The door creaks open. My neck snaps towards the noise as Keebo blubbers beside me. Stepping into the room are two figures, one tall and one short, a blonde adorned in music paraphernalia, and a lanky outcast with dark-rimmed eyes. They start to question us, our names, why Keebo is crying, arguing about how I'm robophobic, and more. "Yes Keebo, we understand." The blonde consoles Keebo, whom I recently discovered is Kaede Akamatsu. Akamatsu pats Keebo's rigid shoulder and the shadowlike boy, named Shuichi Saihara, turns to me. 

"What's your Ultimate?" he interrogates, rather abruptly. My mouth falls as I struggle to respond, the answer slipping my lips like second nature. "Super College Level Supreme Leader," I reply cooly.

What the hell is an Ultimate? I question myself. But somehow the second I asked, I remembered. Ultimates are best described as perfected talents. Young ages from across the world are plucked from the grapevine of specialized abilities and are given the title of Ultimate or Super College Level. It goes down from there to Super High School Level, Super Intermediate Level, and so forth down the chain. 

"What does that mean?" Saihara taps his chin, asking nobody as he looks off into space. I smirk, "You don't need to know." 

He doesn't seem to hear me as he reattached himself to the hip of his lady friend. "I think it's in our best interest if we stick together." Akamatsu expresses as she locks her hands together in a miming motion so no meaning is lost. "I agree." Keebo sighs heavily, glancing towards me warily "Just make sure he doesn't do anything else."

Saihara nodded, going to move between Keebo and me. I already had the group, so I wasn't planning to originally. "Awee, how disappointing!" I roll my eyes in complaint as we walk forward, back into the jungle-like hall.