The Improbus

During the events of the great war, a man, an engineer, was terrified of all he had seen, he wanted to escape the horrors of what was happening, and so he set out. He ventured to the top of a mountain and isolated himself there, he built a home, a workshop. There, he spent all day keeping his mind busy and off the thoughts of what was happening out there, he tinkered and he crafted, though he soon found isolation to be taking it's toll as well. The man wanted company, the man wanted something, anything, even if it wasn't real. Months passed, schematic after schematic and scrapped prototypes galore, then years, years and years. Finally, it had been nearly a decade, but he had perfected it, his creation, his life. The birth of the first ever Improbus.

Flipping the switch, the hunk of scrap metal came to life, its eyes lit up, looking at him, the shutters zooming out, in, head bobbed to the side and back up, unable to tell if it was curious or confused. It's "mouth" began to move, it looked like poor puppeteering as it clumsily clunked around, it seemed as it was trying to say something but couldn't. The struggling slowly began to turn into beeps and incoherent gurgles of technological blabbering, slowly but surely turning into a coherent voice. Then finally it spoke, it spoke words lost to time that only he and the engineer shall ever know. From there, it all began. Day after day, the engineer taught this creation everything he knew, to him it was his own child. Together they made new schematics, new creations, and brilliant ones at that, creations and schematics that empires would wage war to get their hands on. The engineer didn't know if the war was over yet or not, but he didn't care anymore. This was his new life, atop this mountain with his robotic child, he created more wonders. Soon, it turned into a factory of sorts, and they made more Improbus, new ones sleeker and less unstable than the last, but still none ever achieving what The First could. None ever had the same relationship with the engineer like the first did, nor did they really care about it, except for one. Oh did he crave it, he wished to one day be loved the same, to be just as significant, but he could never, not for now. This one was known as Hannibal.

Time passed, the engineer grew older and approached the time he knew that was coming, but he could pass peacefully, knowing that he had done well and that he knew The First wouldn't let his work die. And so, old age got the best of him. The war had been over for quite a time now, and he had already forgotten it ever happened, he forgot about the horrors of the world, about everything, he was a peaceful man, a happy man. If only things stayed as they were. The First had brought out the corpse of the Engineer to go bury him, which was the first time many had ever even seen the man, including Hannibal. Hannibal couldn't process the concept of death, he didn't know what it was, upon seeing the corpse of the engineer and being near them for the first time, they tried to talk to them, to wake them and forge the relationship he seeked, but no matter what he did he couldn't. The First tried to pry him away but he just couldn't, soon Hannibal became violent, before finally he destroyed him. He tore apart the first and took his parts, including the part containing all his knowledge and memories. He took it and used it for himself, trying to relive his life and learn more about the engineer, but it was far too damage during their fight. He did gain quite a bit of knowledge and learned how to make many things, but he couldn't get what he wanted. His resent only grew, he brought the corpse of the engineer back inside and sat him upon a throne he made for him, where everyday he comes to talk to the corpse.

Now, Hannibal spends everyday making new inventions and creations to appease the engineer, to show him he's just as great as The First, if not greater, to gain his respect and validation. He uses the factory and the Improbus to pump out creation after creation, he does everything he can, he'll find anyone with an inkling of knowledge on engineering and creation, and he'll try to take all the knowledge he can, which often results in lobotomies. The mountain on which the factory sits is now known as The Graveyard, where countless corpses lay in fields among scrap and garbage, all lost and hidden under a thick blanket of smoke constantly spewing from the factory.