A missile zooms by outside. Boom! Crash! A building just went down! Another went down even faster than the first!
February 30th:
It is the year 2120. In the year 2100 we went to war, and that's all we knew about it--all the people knew at least. The government sent millions of millions of people to war--people with families, people with success. Only they were to know what was happening. I was one of those people; my name is Brian Ellic, and I am creating these journals so that people will know my story, Earth's story. I will leave most of the briefing out so that I can finish this journal before they find me.
"Men, women, I have brought you here today so that you may serve your country. We are facing a threat created by an assembly line with the wrong program," General McCormick said.
"We found a factory in the North Pole five months ago, and it had been working for almost three-hundred years to create the ultimate fighting force. They are an army of deadly, armed, and mindless robots. We don't have much time before they are turned on; therefore, I need your help. America needs your help to save the world. Only a select few of you will continue, and the rest will be wiped of the memory of the last four days."
August 3rd:
So yes, we were about to be sent to Antarctica to stop a robot army that has the power to destroy Earth. It has been 5 months. I have no idea how I'm still in the program, but I am. We've been called to the training grounds one last time.
"Hooray!!" "This is the day" "We're about to make some scrap metal!" they all shouted simultaneously.
The general said, "This is the day ladies and gentlemen; the war starts. This is the war between man and machine. Anybody who survives this war will be honored throughout the ages.”
August 4th:
It took us ten hours to arrive here by plane. We were armed with heavy weaponry ready to fire; it took five more hours to tread by foot. When we made it to the factory, we couldn't believe our eyes. It was at least a mile wide and two miles high. There was an assembly line arm almost as big as a semi truck and just as long. It was producing 6 robots per minute. Our first objective was to destroy that. A rocket projected gun soldier came in and shot right at it. Almost instantly the arm splintered in half, but as soon as that happened, all of the robots' eyes turned scarlet red and everything turned into chaos. "Retreat!" General McCormick yelled so loud it was almost as loud as the explosions from remote controlled laser missiles. The robots invaded every single country of every continent. I'm held up in a bunker. Every piece of technology they got their hands on they absorbed and used as a weapon or way of survival. It was the final days for Earth; it was the Apocalypse. It was time to pray for a miracle. I hear footsteps outside--not human, robot. This journal is meant for one reason, for hope that things will get better. I know the robots' weakness; they were made with an unknown metal almost as easily pierced by fire as a tissue is by a needle. We didn't have enough time to develop adequate weapons, but now anybody who reads this journal will know what to do, how to destroy them, how to save earth, and how to save themselves from extinction.