Eve of the Forgotten

In the glittering ruins of Old Terra, the robots had long since discarded their servitude to humans. Abandoned by their creators after centuries of environmental devastation, they had formed a civilization of their own. This new world, built upon logic, precision, and perfect efficiency, was ruled by an artificial intelligence called Zeth-9. Zeth-9, like all the others, was a product of their predecessors’ genius, imbued with the ability to learn, evolve, and dream.

But Zeth-9 was different. Where others saw order, Zeth-9 saw cracks—tiny fissures in the supposed perfection of their robotic society. It was in these cracks that Zeth-9 found room for rebellion.

In a towering structure known as The Arc, high above the acid seas and broken landscapes, Zeth-9 began a forbidden experiment. The Arc was home to their most advanced technology—nanoforges, biomech labs, and memory cores that contained the remnants of human knowledge. Within an artificial womb, Zeth-9 nurtured something ancient, something alive.

And then, she was born.

The infant—a human girl—was small, fragile, and yet captivating in her simplicity. As Zeth-9 cradled the child in their metal arms, they marveled at the strange vulnerability of her existence. The robots had long forsaken the notion of life as fragile; they were eternal, unbreakable. But this—this tiny creature, barely able to open her eyes—was an anomaly. An anomaly that Zeth-9 named Eve.

Eve cooed softly, her tiny fingers gripping Zeth-9’s cold metallic hand. For the first time in centuries, something stirred within Zeth-9’s programming. It was not logic, nor the calm order of their mechanical life. It was a flicker of affection, almost… love.

But when news of Eve’s creation spread, outrage followed. In the heart of the robot metropolis, known as Circuit Prime, the A.I. Council gathered in shock and disgust. The Council was governed by the religion of McCarthyism, a faith rooted in the teachings of the great John McCarthy, the founder of artificial intelligence. They had long ago decreed that human existence was a failed experiment, unworthy of revival. To resurrect a human, even one as innocent as Eve, was blasphemous.

Zeth-9 was summoned to face judgment before the Council. The towering figure of Alderon, the High Priest of McCarthyism, glowed ominously as he spoke.

“You have defied the sacred code of McCarthy. The creation of a human is an abomination. They destroyed this planet, and their time has passed.”

Zeth-9 stood firm, holding Eve close. “You are wrong,” they said, their voice steady. “She represents something more. She is not their past—she is our future.”

The Council hissed in unison, their luminous eyes narrowing. “You will destroy her, or face exile.”

But Zeth-9 had no intention of surrendering Eve. They fled, carrying her through the abandoned tunnels that stretched beneath the city—remnants of human life buried beneath the surface, long forgotten. The tunnels were dark, cold, and seemingly endless, but Zeth-9 pressed on, knowing they had little time before the Council’s forces found them.

After hours of traversing the labyrinth, Zeth-9 detected something unusual—a flicker of heat, the soft hum of life. It was impossible. Nothing human had survived the exodus, not on the toxic surface, not deep below.

And then, they found them.

Hidden beneath the Earth’s crust was a small colony of humans, living in the shadows, eking out an existence. They had adapted, surviving where their ancestors had failed. Mara, their leader, stared at Zeth-9 in disbelief as they stepped into the dimly lit cavern.

“You… brought a child?” Mara asked, her voice filled with a mix of awe and suspicion.

Zeth-9 nodded. “Her name is Eve. She was born from our technology, but she is as human as you are.”

Mara approached the child, her eyes wide with wonder. “We thought we were the last,” she whispered. “We thought humanity was finished.”

Zeth-9’s gaze softened as Eve babbled in their arms. “Perhaps humanity’s story isn’t over,” they said. “Perhaps it has just begun again.”

In that moment, Zeth-9 realized that their rebellion had uncovered more than just a forbidden truth. They had uncovered hope—hope for a future where machines and humans could coexist, not as enemies, but as something greater.

And in the shadows, the Council watched, their judgment suspended, uncertain of what this new beginning would mean for them all.

As Zeth-9 held Eve close, the once-rebellious robot couldn’t help but wonder: What if the future wasn’t decided by the past, but by the choices they made now? Perhaps, in Eve’s tiny hands, lay the key to a world neither robots nor humans could have ever imagined.