The second the digits change to 06:00, lights flicker on throughout the entire station, turning it to life. The sound of the entrance unlocking. A tall, towering figure comes through, footsteps leaving rumbling echoes within the hallways. The first of all to arrive, on the way to office. Day in, day out, without fail.

Beloved and an inspiration to all, Chieftain was appointed head of the Norinan security department roughly seven centuries ago. Thanks to him, the division grew into the glory it's still known for today. The walking tank had gone through enough to deserve the praise without doubt.

Conflict.

Sacrifice.

Isolation.

Heavy matters of life the robot was all too familiar with, rendering him more experienced than most. He'd walked a long journey, rendering him more experienced than most. He'd been there done that, rendering him more experienced than most.

His history documented since day one in the archives, Chieftain hadn't looked back since letting it go. Snippets would occasionally pop up here and there, but paying it no heed would be better in the long run. Holding onto the past and false hope had proven to be futile- And the esteemed officer wouldn't allow it to take him down once more.

— MEANS OF PRODUCTION —

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One of the first to enter the world through unnatural means, he was born to two terraforming robots, receiving the name Caesar. The generation before him, had been made artificially by organic creators- Centuries had passed since then, the child unfamiliar with what was before. Separated in their own society, it seemed too easy to teach the young about the horrors of history.

Painted as monsters, their creators had ruined the very soil they lived on- Their creators had polluted the air they breathed- Their creators had exhausted the fauna that ran in the wilds- Their creators had drained the planet of its life- And in order to salvage it, their creators created them- AI and machinery meant to fix the mistakes they'd brought upon themselves.

It was wrong to shift the blame.

It was wrong to escape the responsibilities.

It was wrong to create life without a further purpose.

Akin to all of metallic kind, a fire started that would run the engines hot. Caesar grew up extremely fierce, protective and loyal to his fellow robots and their world- Even more so when it came to his personal circles, a younger brother appearing a century later, by the name of Nestor.

When the inevitable arrived, alarms blared and panicked beeps followed- Caesar was one of the first to volunteer. A conflict was coming- A war that would require offerings- A sacrifice that would rid them of isolation from the rest of the world, bringing it upon the deserved organics instead.

The robot proved capable during training, thanks to his sheer ambition that never faltered, shining brighter throughout the hardships- Even if organics had the numbers through cloning, metalkind had their individuality. By the time Caesar had entered the fields, his brother would soon follow, resulting in a comradeship that would go miles higher than brothership.

As the times passed, so did he.

Private- Corporal- Sergeant- Officer.

An unstoppable fighting machine with an undying will- The soldier kept up spirits and would lead without fear into the depths of the scarlet scrapyards. He reached further, higher, beyond.

Colonel- Brigadier- General.

Alongside a selection of the best, the top performers brought forth the most devastation. Day in, day out. It'd been so long, his name felt a distant memory. Year in, year out. The scarlet scattered across the world, was mistaken for rust. Without fail.

— EMPTY WORLD —

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Once the last fresh splatters and scraps became one with the soils, the general had forgotten what was before. His surviving comrades and his remaining battalions screaming profanities of joy, he felt an unfamiliar emptiness when his brother gripped him tightly, congratulating ∎∎∎∎∎∎ on the victory that was awaited so long. Reached by a thin margin, but it was one nonetheless.

What was once a lush planet, the scapes of Velkhar were barren for far too long. The majority of metalkind left for greener pastures, as soon as the opportunity arose in the shape of anomalies. The general, his younger brother and closest comrades, remained to give back to the soil what it'd lost.

It proved futile.

What was once, wasn't able to return. The losses of the war far too grand, oversaturating the grounds beneath far too much. The planet pushed to its limits multiple times throughout its existence. The remaining colony tried so much, to no avail. It left them lost alongside a desolate field that reflected their views.

The general was one of the first to take the opportunity, when another wave of anomalies appeared half a century later. The last standing behind him, the surviving robots took a dive into the deep depths of the unknown- Leaving the planet devoid of anything, to devolve into its nothingness without any company.

By a thin margin, it went wrong.

Lost in the last bustling noise of society, his brother and closest comrades disappeared within the crowd. When his boots echoed heavier metal instead of crunched earth, they were nowhere to be found. The general had found a clean slate to start anew, though at what cost, if he was still so tied to his past?

— A SPHERE ANEW —

---

It turned out, there was no past to be tied to.

Not anymore.

The archives on the clone wars refreshed, the general found out the hard way the anomalies had thwarted the robots into the past, way beyond the time he was even born. A modern society started by the first veterans millennia ago- They were the Norinae, situated within the galaxy of Iagoon Fisaris, at the centre of the universe. And yet, despite their contemporary means, a crisis befell the robots upon discovering the truth.

Receiving the aid the fresh batch needed, the veteran would slowly adjust to the increasingly familiar new. The further he went, the more alien his past would be. Every time he saw an extraterrestrial organic, he had to restrain himself. Every time he received a snippet, he had to be constrained by others. Every time he was called by his name ∎∎∎∎∎∎, it felt they were seeking an individual no more. Every time he was respected for what he'd done, he simply wanted to forgive and forget.

It all felt bleak to the veteran- Though with new opportunities, rose new hope- And that was something he'd never failed to instill onto others. He found himself in the security division, a place to bring justice to the world where needed. He would rise up the ranks slowly but surely, as he adjusted himself to become one with this new home.

It felt better to be called titles, rather than some six-lettered word that made no sense. When he reached the top lines as a constable eons later, he was named Chieftain, or Chief for ease. From then on, the missing gap within would get smaller over time.

As great as it was to be an inspiration to folk, Chieftain still felt something was always missing. Perhaps it was repeatedly clinging onto the past, which brought only misery over inevitable failures. The new home he'd adjusted to over centuries, was rather metallic all over, no sight of organics to be seen except for alien citizens and visitors. The attempts of organised space expeditions that yielded nothing about his missing brother and comrades. The wasted nights to ignore the horrors seeping through.

Eventually, the police officer thought it would be better to cease and desist, quite literally.

And so, he fully settled and embraced his new life.

— A GREATER PURPOSE —

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There was no denying Chieftain enjoyed his changed circumstances, still centuries down the line. The robot adored his co-workers, despite its sheer size they were a close-knit community. The ones he worked with most, such as Vista Iso, were akin to family. He was an inspiration to all, and in turn they would aid the world together to better it. He turned from a ruthless menace into a gentle giant, reading books rather than judging by covers, yet still plenty capable in combat when needed. He had grown accustomed to this world and learned to love it, as any other unfamiliar alien. Iagoon Fisaris had entered an age of a prosperous utopia, which was much welcomed after the hardships.

Even whilst free from the old world, there would be occasional snippets. Luckily, they wouldn't taint Chieftain as much anymore- Not when he'd pass an old frame that held his old family- Not when his sleep was interrupted by a dream felt too real- Not even when a gift awaited on his doorstep, from one of the richest businessbots, in the shape of an AI modelled as a brotherly replacement. Chieftain refused, treating Hulrune as an individual, which turned his empty home into a more lively place from then on, too.

Through more therapy, Chieftain would find his own individuality at an agonisingly slow pace, beyond the recognition of mere ranks. The robot had no purpose beyond serving others and the world- At least, that was his way of thinking for as long as he could remember. Day in, day out, the officer would throw himself at his work and duties, not realising it was his only place of comfort.

It was time to give himself the space to breathe.

The road would be one with plenty of hurdles. Albeit step by step, Chieftain would let a little more loose. A well-deserved break here- A nice crossword puzzle there- A joyous outing spent with friends over there- The officer would find he struggled quite a lot with this unfamiliar way of unwinding, but luckily there was no deadline or front line to learn all about it.

— END OF DAWN —

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The ugliest parts of the new world would show themselves to the officer, when the End Of Dawn events would wash over Iagoon Fisaris. Sworn into secrecy, the public was left none the wiser as disaster would strike their home and the entire universe- Disappearances without explanation- Appearances of vile beings beyond the veil.

Authorities worked on solutions behind the scenes, Chieftain and his security division included. Through improved camouflage technology, the majority of their world was shielded and protected from the dangers- The otherworldly beings driven away by capable combatants still present, Chieftain included.

Once it had passed as if a bad storm, it was written off as some intergalactical feud won with ease. The survivors tainted by demons and void beings, were toyed with in their memories. The parts that needed repair, were restricted territory as temporary measure. It left a sour feeling, knowing Chieftain had to withhold information from those whom deserved to know most- Though he knew it was a sacrifice needed, in order to keep the flourishing utopia expanding further. After all, the truth had brought nothing but misery to metalkind, and the officer understood that like no other.

And so, Chieftain turned his back once again, seeking the brighter side, focusing on what truly mattered to him at present- Which were his home, his family, his comrades and above all, himself. For once in his life, he felt he had the space to breathe and the room to grow. Step by step. Day in, day out, without fail- But now at his own pace.