Machine Learning: A Cave Story Quest

Machine Learning - File 1, Entry 2 - Boot Process

There are several prominent theories as to why the Island's fauna have grown in such an unusual manner. Consuming the Demon Flowers over their lifespan was ruled out once your squad found that the flowers are rare even on the Island. Long-term exposure over the course of generations is more plausible, but you doubt it. The Demon Flowers don't have the same effects that they do on Mimiga on other creatures. Chevron ate some on a dare from Paren once without any ill effects, even. Your bet is on whatever unique environment lets the Demon Flowers grow freely here also alters the wildlife. Paren complained that that was too vague to count as a valid guess, but she guessed that the wildlife are more dangerous because they have demonic ancestry so her opinion is hardly relevant here.

Stupid theories about origins aside, a bunch of cave-dwelling animals are hardly comparable to fighting Demons or rabid Mimiga. The Island's animal population might be stronger, but it's not smarter. There's no need for complex strategies against an enemy whose only course of action is to charge blindly towards you.

As the bats congregate, you draw your Machine Gun. They're the standard-issue weapon for Machine Soldiers, but in your squad the only others to use one are Quote and Curly. That doesn't make them comparable to the mass-produced soldiers even without taking into account their subsystems, but you were given further differentiation from the inferior models. It might not be as complex as Chevron's Snake and Bubbline are, pack as much firepower as Paren's Fireball and Missile Launcher, or have the sheer destructive capacity of whatever (possibly literally) unholy fusion of magic and technology Commander Syn's Nemesis is, but your Machine Gun is still an absurd weapon. A human who tried to fire it would lose an arm if they were lucky. For you, the recoil is enough to propel even the immense weight of a machine soldier. You complained about it at first. Having to fight just to keep your aim steady when firing even a few shots was inconvenient, to say nothing of firing at the weapon's top speed. Years of service have let you grow accustomed to the rifle's eccentricities, though. With a little creativity, those imperfections can provide some interesting advantages.

In your current state, it would be a poor idea to try any fancy maneuvers. Luckily, you won't need them. You draw your gun, point it at the bat swarm, and hold down the trigger. The muzzle flash is blinding to your damaged eyes. Between that and the shaking of your hands as you struggle to account for your injuries when controlling the gun's recoil, many of the bats are untouched by your first volley. Just as many are not so lucky and end up reduced to thin red paste. You narrow your eyes and fire again in the survivors, cutting their numbers even further. You wish you could take the time to appreciate the way the light scatters into a rainbow as it strikes the frozen air. This would be so much easier if you weren't so damaged. You need repairs. Active repairs. The conditions are too poor and you've received too much damage for your auto-repair subsystems to suffice, that much is clear. You pull the trigger in another short burst, clearing the swarm yet again. Only one bat remains, flying persistently towards you like you didn't just blow the rest of the colony into a fine red mist. Again.

The gun clicks. It doesn't matter, you have enough space to fabricate another full clip long before the bat gets anywhere near you. You wait as the ammo count climbs back up, far too slowly. You'll have time for maybe three shots by the time the bat gets within melee range. Normally you wouldn't care so much, it's only an animal, but you're already mostly broken. Your core components are exposed to the open air and worn down by who knows how much weathering. All it would take is a single unlucky hit to break you for good, and you refuse to die to a literal wild animal.

You shift your stance, feet digging into the earth as your grip changes and the bat draws closer. Just as it presents its oversized claws, hoping to rip into you, you swing your gun and slam it into the bat at full force. A more delicate weapon could never be used for something like this, but standard-issue Machine Guns are hardy. It's about the only real trait of note about the base models, and the modifications made to your gun have not undone that. Backed by fifty tonnes of machinery, the processed metal slams into the overgrown animal and sends it spiraling off to the side. It crashes into the cave wall and slumps to the ground, unmoving.

You holster your Machine Gun again, satisfied with the battle's conclusion, and try to ignore the rattling of your body as you do so. You really need those repairs.

…and maybe to clean yourself first. There is blood and bits of bat inside of you right now, and that only gets more disgusting the longer you think on it. Ew. At least there's water nearby.

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You kneel carefully by the frozen lake, cupping the frigid water in your hands and splashing it against the bits of grime clogging your inner workings. You feel the water drain away at the few sparks of heat still clinging to your circuits. Part of you considers leaving it as is, not risking further temperature damage just for the sake of cleanliness, but there's something inherently revolting about that idea. The Commander would be worse about this, no doubt. The artificial skin fitted on machine soldiers of your model doesn't stain. It can't be dyed or colored through any method you know of, including blood. It also repels most forms of dirt and grime, remaining the same pristine unnatural white no matter how brutal a battle you've just been through. Despite this, the Commander is weirdly obsessive about being clean. They'd probably blow a circuit if they ended up in this situation.

You wonder what the point of the artificial skin was. They told you it was to make your model look more human, which you believe. You have to live with all sorts of stupid design decisions because somebody decided it was "more human" to include them. Like a sense of smell. Or the ability to feel pain. Or having to eat things for fuel. It's all ridiculous. But looking human strikes you as an odd goal, considering nobody could ever be fooled into thinking one of your model was a human. Your skin is too pale, your eyes are too glassy, not to mention the obvious external markings. You aren't a human, so why build so many features to make you seem like one?

Well, it doesn't really matter. You would be better off thinking about how to warm up. You can feel stiffness in your joints as you stand up from the pool, satisfied with your bathing. The door and balcony remains a tiny spec of human influence in an otherwise untouched cavern. If you're very lucky, they'll have something to held you fix yourself. At bare minimum, inside should be heated. Unless the heating system has broken. There's no evidence of anyone having actually used this place any time in recent history.

You trudge across the frozen ground to the balcony, pushing your numbing limbs with every motion. It's becoming apparent that you won't last in the cold. Unless you can find somewhere warm to stay, you will die with your mission incomplete. It's possible the rest of your squad already has. You have no idea how long it's been since you were separated. With your self-repair systems battling against environmental weathering, it could have been anywhere from days to years. The Island isn't that large, they would have found you before now if it was more than a week at worst. Unless they weren't in any state to search for you. Unless the situation has deteriorated in the time you were unconscious. Unless you are the last one left.

It's pointless to think these things, but that knowledge does nothing to halt the flow of possibilities from entering your mind. Your feet drag through the rock and sleet until you reach the balcony. Slowly, carefully, you grasp the guard rails and heave yourself over. The old metal creaks and groans under your weight before shearing in half with a horrid screech as you are halfway over. Only a quick twist in midair prevents you from landing hard on your exposed internals. The balcony whines in protest when you land on it. You freeze, completely refusing to move until the creaking stops. If the balcony falls at this point, it will dump you directly into the water. You cannot afford that.

You crawl across the rickety balcony, hoping not to upset its precarious anchoring any further. Once you have practically pressed yourself up against the frigid metal wall, you slowly rise into a standing position and try the door. It's locked, but a single measured slam fixes that problem and frees it from its hinges. As the balcony shakes under your feet once again, you slip through the open door and into the structure.

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The building is in a state of horrible disrepair, but it's still heated. A cursory search of the first few rooms finds a few things of note. For one, bats and other critters seeking warmth like you were. They don't pose much of a challenge. Second are the gashes torn in the walls and the various devices lining them. Some look like engines, some like computers, and some you couldn't even begin to guess. Still, this whole place is clearly running off of emergency power. Unless there are more generators deeper in, but who needs that many generators? Though if this place were a power plant of some sort, it'd make sense. In that case, the facility was probably still powering itself. You can't imagine why they'd pick a location like this, though.

Among the damages are a few lower-quality Machine Soldiers. It's not exactly a surprise to see the inferior models trashed; your team is sent to clean up messes they can't manage often enough. They don't have any of the fancy details to make them look human like your model does, just a plain endoskeleton fitted with a simple black metal shell. Most of them are in pieces, torn irreparably apart with tremendous force. It's a shame; you are here for information gathering. One of them might have been able to tell you something useful. Like the date. Or where in the Island you are.

You don't get many information gathering missions. This was the first one in two years. Your squad is usually sent out to scout new territory, eliminate an important target, or just clear out all the enemies from an area. Technically you're also here to do all three of those things, but the main goal in coming to the Island was to gather as much information about it, the Demon Flowers, and the Crown, as possible. That, and making sure nobody else was able to do the same. The lesser models here weren't sent by Command, you know that much.

You spotted a bathroom earlier, so there were probably at least a few humans manning this place in addition to the Machine Soldiers stationed here. Mimiga and Demons would need it too, but they've never shown technology anywhere near what humans use. The bloodstains on the walls are from Mimiga, though, not humans. You haven't found any bodies from either so far. just the machines.

Third, and most fortunately, is a repair room.

Most of the parts there have been used up. Plenty of them don't match with your model. But they're there, along with instruction manuals and the proper equipment. It wasn't meant for a soldier to be using in themself, but it will do. You could speed along your recovery by days with these resources. Alternatively, one of the damaged soldiers looked salvageable. It would be easy to get it back into working order. It could be hostile, yes, but that's hardly an issue for you. Even damaged, you're more than a match for the inferior models. And you'll be the one fixing it, so you can always just take it apart again if it becomes a problem.

Either way, it'll mean progress. You'll be back with your team soon enough, you know it. You can hardly wait to put this all behind you.

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Following Orders
[] Satisfaction
You were made to accomplish the tasks set out before you, no matter what they are. What feeling should you have other than satisfaction at a job well done?
[] Indifference
It's not really important. You have to do as you're commanded, but that's it. It's just a chore like any other.
[] Penitent
A part of you died with each mission you carry out. It's the only way for any of the things you've done to be remotely acceptable, for you to hate them.
[x] Remorseful
You and your team have been asked to do horrible things. At least you can recognize that fact, even if you can do nothing to change it.
[] Resigned
You're doing what you're told, that's it. It's not as though there are any other options for you or your squad. It's best to just… not think about it most of the time.
[] Write-in

Spare Parts
[x] Repair Yourself
-[x] Core Systems
Ensures you aren't on the brink of death anymore, restores your repair features to full power, and should correct your eyes to some extent.
-[] Motor Systems
Clear away the effects of who knows how much environmental weathering, getting you back to full speed and strength physically.
-[] Subsystems
Higher-class Machine Soldiers are equipped with subsystems like Curly's shield or Paren's combustion. It'll take some time to boot up even then, but you can return your own to functionality.
[] Repair a Soldier
You need information on where you are and what happened here, not to mention what's been happening on the Island. Fixing the Machine Soldier would let it answer your questions. Depending on how things go, you can just take it apart again afterwards.