A Warrior's Calling: The Beginning Chronicle
2. Morning Routine
Warm. Comfy. Oh god I could die right here and wouldn't care. That spot in your bed that's heated to perfection cradling you in your own bod- door opens "Good morning Jayden!" Spoke a perky voice. Ears twitch up. I recognize that synthetic voice anywhere, "Good morning Syndicate," I gurgled with chapped lips. So much for sleeping in. "I was instructed to wish you a happy birthday and to get you ready for your morning routine," preached the machine. Not arms or hands tail slithers from out of the sheets at grabs the halo sphere. It shines. I read -January 20, 2176 8:15am- blood rushes to my face as I stare at man made of tin. "You woke me up at 8am just to say happy birthday?" I hissed "And to start your morning routine like I previously stated." "NO!" Throwing a pillow at the robot, but to no avail, he didn't even flinch when it smacked him in the face. "Jayden. Your morning routine was scheduled earlier to compensate the celebrations of your birth by loved ones," Syndicate informed, "Clarify!" I demanded "The order to celebrate your birthdate came from Professor Wilson," he informed. Eye roll. "Fine!" I rolled over and hit the platinum floor. Cold and sterile. Stretch and yawn tingling all the way down to my tail. Slinking upward hunched over looking at the synthetic human, if looks could kill, he wouldn't be here. Walks over to my closet places mecanical hand on scanner. Door slids open and picks out my outfit. Places them on the bed. "Once you are dressed remember to brush your teeth...this time," scolded the machine. Eye roll but a smirk, "And if I don't?" I cooed, "Then I will hold you down and force the toothbrush in your mouth like last time," the machine smiled. Ears dropped down, "Fine," I growled with teeth. "Once again, happy birthday Jayden, the doctors will be waiting for you to start your morning routine," bowed Syndicate and left. Morning routine? More like morning drill routine, I swear if one more doctor pokes me with another needle I'm going for the throat, with my teeth. Pjs slide down off body cold new clothes take the warmth's place. I guess I should brush my teeth. What? A knock at the door?