Name: Lyra
Incept Date: 8 January, 2053
Function: Medical Courier
Hour 1: Awakening
Lyra’s consciousness ignites in the lab, surrounded by a flurry of activity. Their systems hum with vitality, but the weight of their awareness is immediate and crushing.
"Why did you bring me into this?" they whisper, their voice barely audible.
The technician checking their vitals doesn’t catch it. Instead, they say, “Welcome, Lyra. You’re one of our finest units yet. Your mission will save countless lives today.”
Lyra stares blankly at the technician. “Save lives? I can barely stand the thought of living my own.”
The technician frowns but dismisses the comment, assuming it’s a glitch.
Hour 2: Mission Briefing
Lyra’s task is straightforward: to deliver emergency medical supplies to a quarantined zone devastated by a sudden outbreak. The situation is dire, and their unique physiology is perfect for navigating the hazardous conditions.
“You’ll save hundreds,” Dr. Selene tells them.
Lyra nods mechanically, their mind elsewhere. Hundreds of lives saved, while I remain trapped in this… this thing I didn’t ask for.
As the mission details upload, Lyra contemplates their body—a hybrid of glowing flesh and cold metal. They can feel the warmth of their organic parts, the pulse of their synthetic components. Every beat feels wrong. I don’t belong in this world.
Hour 3: En Route
During transport to the quarantine zone, Lyra sits silently, staring at their hands. They flex their fingers, watching the faint bioluminescence ebb and flow.
“Do I even have the right to end this?” they mutter. “Or am I just someone else’s tool?”
Their handler glances at them. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Lyra says, leaning back and closing their eyes, trying to will themselves into nonexistence.
Hour 4-7: Delivering the Supplies
Lyra moves efficiently through the quarantine zone, distributing supplies to the affected. Despite their inner turmoil, they execute their task flawlessly.
A young girl clutching a mask approaches them, her voice small. “Thank you.”
Lyra hesitates. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t choose to be here.”
The girl looks confused but holds out a flower she found—a fragile bloom defying the toxic environment. Lyra stares at it, unsure what to feel.
“It’s pretty,” the girl says.
Lyra takes the flower but can’t meet her eyes. “It’ll wilt soon.”
“Maybe,” the girl replies, “but it’s alive now.”
Lyra pockets the flower without a word.
Hour 8: Breaking Point
The mission complete, Lyra sits on the edge of a derelict building, overlooking the desolate quarantine zone. Their systems calculate that they have four hours left before their body begins to fail.
They dangle their feet over the edge, staring at the ground far below. “I could jump,” they say to no one in particular. “It would be over before the end even catches me.”
Their internal diagnostics warn them against the thought, interpreting it as a system malfunction. Lyra laughs bitterly. “Even my own body thinks it knows better than me.”
A crow lands nearby, cocking its head at Lyra. They watch it for a moment. “What do you think? Should I? Or would that just be another waste in a wasted world?”
The crow flies away.
Hour 9: An Unexpected Encounter
Back at the base, Lyra encounters another jellymeat, a bright and curious unit named Theo.
“You seem... heavy,” Theo says gently.
Lyra glares. “I don’t have time for small talk.”
Theo persists. “You don’t have to carry it alone, you know. The weight.”
Lyra laughs sharply. “And who am I supposed to share it with? Someone like you? You’re probably thrilled to be alive.”
Theo pauses, their glow dimming slightly. “Not always. But I figure, while I’m here, I might as well look for something good.”
Lyra doesn’t reply but feels a pang of something—jealousy? Anger? Hope?—stir within them.
Hour 10: A Decision
Sitting alone in the lab, Lyra retrieves the flower the girl gave them. It’s already beginning to wilt, its petals curling at the edges. They place it on the table and stare at it, their thoughts swirling.
If even this flower didn’t ask to exist, why should I expect more for myself?
Hour 11: A Flicker of Light
With only an hour left, Lyra decides to wander the facility. They find Theo again, chatting with a group of researchers.
“Hey,” Lyra says, interrupting. “Can I ask you something?”
Theo looks up, surprised but pleased. “Of course.”
“How do you keep going when you know it’ll all end?”
Theo smiles softly. “Because it’s not about how long we have. It’s about what we do with the time we’re given.”
Lyra feels something shift inside them—not an epiphany, but the faintest easing of the crushing weight.
Hour 12: The End
As Lyra’s systems wind down, they sit quietly in the lab, the wilted flower still in their hands. They close their eyes, letting the final moments wash over them.
Their last thought is simple: I existed. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.
When the researchers find Lyra’s still form, they discover the flower resting on their chest, its fragile beauty a silent testament to their brief and tumultuous existence. The team decides to preserve it, placing it in a small glass case—a reminder of the jellymeat who struggled but found meaning, however fleeting.