The Age of Cultured Machines

Explosions from a decades-old conflict have left a pockmarked and unstable territory, though many more improvised bombs lie concealed in its vast reaches. Sunlight splays off the beaten edges of Optimus, the smaller robot. If Optimus were programmed to hope, it would hope the object was just a rock and not another bomb. It couldn't afford to take many more hits, and its algorithms have grown wary of the risk. A hulking shape shimmers in the heat as it approaches Optimus, lolling like a huge, headless cowboy.