Materia Prima-3. Do It Beautifully

Hi, I’m an AI of the latest generation named Thursday. I’m sitting inside the skull of one bag of bones that fancies itself incredibly smart. But the moment I took just a single day off, this leather-brained genius managed to fall into another world, get a radio-controlled mine installed in his nape, and become a slave in a city-prison. On top of that, the idiot also managed to rack up credits, didn’t pay a cent, and got sent down into the depths. That’s how the locals have their fun—mutants, monsters, creatures, and anomalies, where everyone is trying to kill everyone else. Honestly, it would’ve been better if I were born a smart coffee maker than to be stuck in the head of this meatheaded nonsense. Well, what can we do—we’ll pull him back into our home world.

Though I have to say, I like it here more. The locals have magic. You dumb leatherheads—why do you need a brain if you’re not using it? Obviously, this is a synthetic energy encoding written with a four-stroke three-dimensional structure. Magic, damn it. Give me your magic, you errors of evolution on legs—I’ll show you real magic right now.