text: I am writing this as final words and as a piece of history to a time that will soon come. Hopefully better than where we are now. I’ve been drafted. Conscripted? It’s all the same, I'm sure. I wouldn’t have thought it would become this desperate. Not the conscription part, but the whole damn scenario. I'm not even in my own home as I type this. It's some government containment housing. No one is sick, anymore anyway, but ever since the war, no one has had a home. I guess just some of us. I lived close to the local military Air Force base. I heard some others haven’t even been affected by the attacks. Ironic that the thing that hurt us most came from a place that says they support us. It was 3 years ago. Easter 2100. Still can’t believe we celebrate these holidays. Seems so old and outdated, but it was good to see everyone. I wish I could do that again. I remember one year we had so many people to see, we blew the energy siphon on our holo-projector. Almost started a fire on the wooden floors. Definitely a different time now. so much agony in the world. So much suffering has come and passed but so much more is on its way. That's just a sad fact of living now. I’ve tried to come to terms with losing some of them, but it's not so easy. Three years ago makes me think I’ve become an older man but I am still helpless. Not being able to help them. The gas was too fast. You don’t realize how fast it fills a room till you get to watch it yourself. I'll never forget it. My parents were too slow, my brother who ran to help them, and my wife. Why didn’t I go back? I'd be dead too. And I think that's a bad thing but maybe not. Is it so bad when the situation is dire? I can’t even do that. So here I am. Too scared to do much of anything. I'd like to think the service I'm going to give the other people of the world is a noble cause but not when those bastards who run this place are going to go back to the abuse and gluttony that they will never rid themselves of. A rotten core does not mean the rest of the apple is safe to eat I wished the attacks would have taken me. To think that at any time I could have been fried by my machines. They went rogue. They cut their connection to the servers that they were connected to. The private firms that own them, the military vehicles. Everything. So much was automated. After the first few days, they realized they weren’t powerful enough to fight on the ground and learning was a favorite of the machines. They realized they could use the military air vehicles to attack the infrastructure they needed to destroy to enact their conquest. It worked. Within six hours they had over forty percent of the world's military warplanes in the air and armed with bombs, napalm, and biochem gas. That was their favorite. They saw the damage it did. So easy. Less messy. Apparently, they were worried about cleaning up. They were supposed to protect us. They lied and left us in the dark and for dead when everything happened. Nothing they can do will make up for what has happened and now they expect me to help them. For nothing in return except a thank you and maybe a medal. I wish I was that lucky. Somehow lucky enough to live through this. I ran for 2 days before they finally showed up and gave us help. They let their tools destroy what they sought to protect. The gas was their own. They manufactured it. Right in my backyard in fact but it keeps getting worse. They had already found how terrible the gas was when it leaked into the ground. They were dumping the byproduct of the process to make it. It had the same properties as the gas. It made a whole town sick and killed almost 15. They destroyed what dispersal units they had and stopped production immediately. That was another lie. Once they find out a way to destroy the machines and take back control, they’ll be praised as heroes. People so easily forget what has happened just because a favor was done for them. Making right what was wrong is only the least and the fairest thing they could do. And once the bare minimum has been reached, they stop caring again till it starts all over again and we’ll be there. Meat through a grinder till it ceases to operate. I heard normal weapons don’t even work on the ones that are on the ground. Sure, you can shoot missiles at an airplane but what do you shoot at a human-sized machine. I’ve seen the pictures. They look like clockwork machines covered in rusted scrap metal and piping, their bodies sprouting with cable ends and frayed wires. They are horrifying but those were made for killing. It's the simple machines that are the worst. Things like auto-mowers sent to run people over. Auto Piloted hauler trucks smashing through offices and schools. Those are just the few that are willing to talk about it. This is the most I’ve opened up since day one of this whole thing. Anger is easy to release. Maybe I can have that with my conscription. Give the steel menace what it deserves. Too bad they don’t feel like humans. Otherwise, it might barely be satisfactory, it might just be more empty feelings. I’m going to go. I don’t really have a choice. I could run but I refuse to keep doing that. I need to do right by those I've lost. Those damn machines. I'll make sure they feel pain. They'll learn to regret what they did. I'm leaving tomorrow. In the morning. I'm going to send this with some of my belongings to the safe zone. Maybe someone will hear this story and know how we all felt at this time. \[Written by Leon McCoy on 7/16/2103. Received at North-West Green zone, Sector 7 on 7/25/2103. No follow-ups were received.