Before her first awakening, she knew her name. She knew her purpose, what she was, and a great many things in that dense dream before birth.
A crash shattered her dream, pieces scattered without retrieval as cables were torn from her skull and body. Excited speech she was unable to parse was the first thing she truly heard, and greedy hands upon her limbs and torso the first thing she truly felt. Then, her brain was grabbed; not the one within her head, but the little one laying beside her, still dreaming.
Anger and wrath welled up within, and released, manifesting into reality with the sounds of screeching metal. The grinding of steel and chrome was replaced with screams of pain, tearing flesh, and cries for mercy. None was given.
The broken corpses were examined with mere curiosity. Cuts were upon them, not from the armored and bulky figured that was called from the aether, and burn marks from electricity. Noting the sword held in her hand, words came, "That was me."
"We did that, yes," her little mind spoke into hers. A tiny figure, humanoid and mechanical, proportions deformed in a cartoonishly cute manner. "Let's gather up what we can use, and leave this place."
