His life was torture.

Every day, the machines came and tried something new on him. They took out his bone and replaced it with metal. One day, they chopped off his arm and attached a robotic one its place. The pain was unbearable. And every time, every blasted time, his body healed up again, ready for the next round. Betraying his thoughts. Betraying his greatest wish, which was now to die.

That was the one thing he could not do. Ever since he picked up the Deathly Hallows, gathered them as one. No matter what happened, he always regenerated. It didn't matter if he was burned or exploded or stabbed. It took a long time, and that long time was just agony. The only thing that he, Harry Potter, knew now was pain, despair and a burning desire to escape the Hell he was trapped in.

Even if he escaped, he didn't know what he would do. Didn't know where he would go. Whether he would survive the war waging outside, between the humans and the machines. Whatever was out there, though, was better than than where he was currently, even if it was just by a tiny margin.

Now, Harry lay on the table, his eyes closed, breathing deeply and blocking out the pain. No matter how much they changed him, nor how much his body adapted to the metal now inside it, the pain never became any better. The machines had just done the worst experiment yet. Most of his insides were replaced by metal now. He was more machine than human. It seemed that Skynet had finally happened upon a design where Harry would be used as a base for other humans who were captured.

His magic had been all but stripped from his body, stolen and used as a power source for something. It was so weak that Harry couldn't even produce a spark of light. Harry screamed out in anguish, still mourning for his friends and family, who were slaughtered in front of him so many years ago. His arms lashed out, the chains that held him rattling fruitlessly. They were made of some super strong metal, so strong it was hopeless to even try breaking it. And, oh boy, had he tried.

Suddenly, the door slid open with a hiss. Two terminators marched in, red eyes training on him. Harry stared defiantly back. In silence, they snapped the chains and escorted him out of the room, through the familiar hallways, terminators patrolling with massive plasma weapons.

To his left, there was a door, slightly ajar, with a blue light blazing inside. His curiosity was peaked. Maybe it was a way out. He would have to make a break for it right now, if that was the case.

Without warning, Harry rammed himself into the terminator on the left. Due to the changes forced upon him, he was now a lot stronger than previously. That was one upside, even though he would rather be completely human right now. The terminator staggered, which was enough of a window for Harry to slip past into the room and jam the door shut. It would take them a minute or so to get through. That minute could be the difference between life and...not death.

What Harry saw in front of his was the most glorious sight he'd seen in all his life. It was the time machine that he'd managed to catch wind of. With no idea how it worked, Harry rushed up to the control console thing and began mashing buttons, hyper aware of the terminators banging on the door. Thirty seconds left.

To his great surprise, the machine began to fire up. With inhuman speed, Harry sprinted over and put himself in the middle of it, hoping against hope that he was doing it right. If he wasn't, he was as good as dead, considering that he couldn't die. Skynet wasn't exactly lenient.

The blue light intensified, and just as the terminators burst through the door, Harry was gone, leaving nothing but a sparking machine behind.

Popped into my head. Going to see where it goes.

Sincerely
Mariadoria