ENTRY NO. 001.0

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February 4 of the year 323

Salamando's Day


I am MH-01. That is the first thing I remembered when I came back on-line. That is the only thing I could remember. There isn't much other than that fact.


When I found myself sitting by the fountain in Truce, that was the only bit of information left in my memory. Everything else had been erased or corrupted.


Why am I here of all places? Who am I? What happened to me? What was I created to do?


The answers to these questions are out there somewhere. I can feel that someday I shall know exactly what happened. But until that day comes, I must find out more about myself. There is more dormant in this mechanical body of mine than I can even fathom. Even now as I strain to survive on the long stretches spent in the wilds around Truce, I can feel more and more of these programs and functions coming into line.


But what is it that I am supposed to do? What is my objective? There are only two sure things that I can keep a firm hold on. One is a sense of solidarity in the human name, Jango, I have taken on gives me, makes me feel a bit more real than just my model number. Never mind the odd looks I get when I introduce myself with it.


Two is something a bit more dark. The sense of release and resolution I receive, as the evil of this land die.


-- Jango MH-01


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