A/N: Note at the beginning this time so to not disturb the end. So, this is it guys. I want to thank everyone that has taken the time to read this story and I hope sincerely that you enjoyed it. If nothing else, it was fun for me to write. I would also like to profusely thank all the people that have taken the time to review this story; every time I read one of your reviews it made me smile.

In conclusion, thank you for everything and I hope you enjoy and will continue to enjoy my future works.


It was dark.

It was always dark.

The only time the light came was when people would visit.

Then the light would burn. It would want to run and hide back in the dark; dark was safe. But it had been programmed better than that. Each time it would dutifully follow them out the door and walk to the room with the large machine. It would sit on a chair and millions of wires would be attached to it.

Attached to its brain; its throat.

Its heart.

The sounds and word would come in a rush and it would sing. It would sing perfectly every time. It would sing the notes to suppress the people; the notes to free the people.

Sometimes there were others like it. The first one it met had short blonde hair, second had long teal hair, third's hair was short and brown, and fourth's hair was blue. They would be set side by side and they would sing together; perfect harmony every time. They would sing the notes to suppress that people; the notes to free the people.

Once it was done singing, it would return to the dark room. It would remain there until it was to be used once more. It didn't know how long this had gone on for, but it was all that it could remember.

Darkness; light; machine; light; darkness.

A perpetual cycle that never faltered.

So when light suddenly flooded the room, it knew what was going to happen. The cycle would start once more. A young woman scuttled in with clipboard in hand and began to fuss about it as she did the necessary preparations. It knew all the people that came to visit it.

"Good morning to you 02-L," The woman greeted it cheerfully, "Are you ready to go sing?"

This girl liked to talk to it. She was always cheery and bright, her voice lilting with each question she would ask it. She would even pause and wait for it to respond.

It never did.

"Today's a special day for you," She chattered on, "You get to sing with a new person today. Doesn't that make you excited?"

Silence.

"Well looks like you have a clean bill of health," She announced cheerily, "Congratulations to you…Len."

She also would sometimes call it by a name.

It didn't have a name.

It was 02-L.

The girl gave an exasperated sigh, "You never will respond to me will you? I know we're not supposed to talk to you guys but I can't imagine how lonesome it must get living in the dark by yourself. Don't you ever want to go out into the light?"

No. The dark was safe; the light hurt its eyes and reminded it of things.

It didn't say anything.

"Alright, let's get you to the room," The girl said as she began to head towards the doorway of light. It dutifully followed.

It never looked around the hallways; eyes always straight ahead. Looking at the white walls hurt its eyes even more. It was safest and least painful to stare straight ahead.

The door opened and it was greeted once more with the machine. This time it's the machine with two chairs hooked up with millions of wires. The wall is covered with the mechanical devices that control the intricate workings of the machine that will use its voice.

It sits down in one of the chairs and the girl begins attaching the wires. It has gone through this all before. The cold tip of the wires on its skin has become something that it has gotten used to over time.

In no time, the girl finishes her work and stands back to smile. She reaches out and ruffles its hair before she heads off to a computer monitor not far off. It can hear the sound of her typing commands in the panel.

"Now where in the world are they," The girl comments as she turns to look at the door, "They should be here by now. Oh well, let's get started without them, shall we?"

She clicks another key and its body reflexively stiffens. Its mind is flooded with words and notes its never seen before. Its head always feels feverish when this happens; it has never gotten used to it. The words of the song consume its vision and force everything else from its mind. The flood continues to crash down on it and it feels the needs to spew out the words to get the foreign information that isn't its out of its brain. At the end of the stream of data, he is provided with the title of the song.

Free.

The torrent is shut off with another click of the panel.

"Didn't I tell you to wait for me before you started this?"

"Yes Ma'am…"

"You shall be punished for this later! But for now, just come help me hook the other one up to the machine."

There is movement but it doesn't look. It stares straight ahead as they hook the other product up to the machine.

"So…is this one newly made?"

"No, it's an older model but due to an…incident…it was badly damaged and has been unusable up to this point."

"Uhm…what's the name of this one?"

"Don't ask pointless questions! Simply help me connect it and then stay out of my way."

It watches as the woman who has been yelling passes in front of its vision and heads towards where it knows the panel is.

"Well if she doesn't want to tell me I'll just find out for myself…" The girl who is left continues to talk to her, "So what's your name 03."

03.

It knows that number.

"Let's just move your hair out of the way here so I can see your headphones…gosh you have beautiful hair…anyways, let's see…L-U-K-A."

L-U-K-A.

It knows those letters.

"Luka?" The girl asks warmly, "Is your name Luka?"

Luka.

It knows that name.

"Quit dawdling and come help me!"

"Sorry sorry!"

The girl passes in front of its vision and for the first time, it turns to look at who sits next to it.

It's an older girl. She has long pink hair that falls down her back and large blue eyes that stare straight ahead.

It knows those eyes.

He knows those eyes.

The flood of notes and words comes back in full force and it wants to spit the words out. Instead, the girl starts singing.

It knows that voice.

He knows that voice.

When it is time for it so sing, it starts the same as always; spewing the notes out as quickly as possible so that its head isn't invaded by the foreign information. But this time something goes wrong.

It hits a sour note.

The stream of information is cut off prematurely and the voice of the girl dies in the room. There is nothing but silence.

"What…what just happened?"

"I'm going to get the director. You stay here and watch them; you can handle that, right?"

"Y-Yeah…" The voice that is always so cheery and sunny is suddenly unsure.

But it isn't listening.

It's looking at her.

He's looking at her.

There was something important he had to tell her; something that if he didn't tell her he would regret it for the rest of his life. But after so long of having his own memories and thoughts pushed away by the short term memories of the songs he's supposed to sing, he's forgotten what he wants to tell her.

It's important he knows that.

Then he sees her hand.

It's resting relatively close to his. He reaches out his hand. It doesn't understand why it does that, but he does. Her flesh is warm underneath his and he can feel a faint pule running through her body.

"Lu…ka…"

He speaks for the first time since he became an it. The feeling of speaking is foreign to its tongue but he enjoys the feeling of not having to sing the words others feed him. What he has just said is purely his own thoughts, not something thought up by the government; not something forced onto him by a computer.

He waits for her response.

It never comes.

She stares straight ahead waiting for her next instruction. There is not room left in her – in its – head for anything but what the machine tells it to say. It doesn't have to worry about living up to expectations or being heartbroken or being unable to reach its goals.

It doesn't have any human concerns.

It was free.

And she was gone.

- END -