[booting_x64_zenixOS] [...] [...] [success] [loading_files] [success] [opening_"videojournal"] [loading_"firstjournal".mp4] [loading...] [loading...] [success] [loading_audio] [loading_video] [process_finished] Sitting before the webcam/monitor/whatever you want to call it, is Dale. His mask is dirty and covered in soot, his upper clothes are shredded along the right side. Occasionally a spark would crackle, but he seemingly didn't notice. He then spoke in his synthetic, and scratchy voice; "Today I did my job. I protected my employer, and nearly at the cost of my own "life". I think wires inside of me have shifted in place because of it, though-- I don't have the protection I require to keep my internals safe. But I can't exactly change, can I? Not that I know of..Hrk. I still need repairs, and a good cleaning. My whole arm's missing, as bad as it sounds, I have my doubts it'll hinder me past the use of my assault rifle, maybe even my pistol. But I've still got to work, I have even more doubts that ninety thousand pixels will be enough to repair me completely, really. I don't know why I'm suddenly keeping some video log, maybe I just want my future self to look at my past self, and think about my mistakes. Or just how I look, I'm certainly not a pretty sight right now. I guess that's the end of this, though. Dale reaches over to the side of the screen, and the video ends abruptly. [end_recording] [begin_shutdown] [...] [shutdown_in_progress]
