The dull, pulsing red glow changed to a solid blue as Verge finally woke up. Power on. Rebooting.... Primary sensors online. Running diagnostic. The voice in his head alerted him to his status. His 'eyes' flickered open, and the android took in his surroundings.
It was a sight of ancient times. The primal sense of the air couldn't be described, and the arched stone of the ceiling was a beautiful piece of architecture. The hall was lit only by firelight, in braziers and torches along the walls. The walls were covered in mosaics of multicolored clay, and the massive pillars that rose to the full height of the place cast looming shadows. Nor was Verge the only one there. Motionless forms of stone and clay stood at attention, to all appearances mere statues. But Verge's sensors picked up what eyes could not: they were Golems, alive with magic, built by ancient peoples to serve and protect. And there were other traces of magic. On pedestals were strange objects of finely worked metal, glowing with a powerful energy within.
The voice rung in Verge's head once again. Diagnostic complete. Physical and Mental systems fully operational. Power systems offline. Some form of lock is in place, restricting abilities. Memory files have been cleared.
So, that was it. He had no memory of this place because he had no memories at all. Yet... he was aware that he knew things beyond the experiences he had since he rebooted.
He took a tentative step forward. Countless years of inaction told him he did not remember how, but the programming deep in his core led him faultlessly in his first pace. He took another step, and another, and then he was walking as naturally as any human being. And he looked like one, too, with the exception of the glowing symbol on his cheek. To any human, he would appear to be a caucasian male, with brown hair and green eyes. Perhaps too green to be quite natural. Yet, beneath the realistic exterior, he was a being of metal and wires.
He walked to one of the pedestals, upon which was a magnificent silver ornament, of a design which was foreign to Verge. He reached out to touch it. Nothing happened. He picked it up to examine it more closely, and began to turn it over in his hands. Smoke began to pour out at one end of the ornament, gradually forming itself into a vaguely humanlike shape of silvery white vapor, larger by half than an ordinary man. Its piercing golden eyes stared down at the robotic man who held its summoning lamp. It spoke in a deep voice that echoed like thunder through the hall.
"Greetings, tiny mortal. A Genie am I, and yours are wishes three. Merely rub the oil lamp you hold in your hands, proclaim your wish, and it shall be granted."
Verge stared. His eyes were blank as his internal systems shot through an endless tunnel of memories, to arrive at one phrase:
"The Hall of Lamps."
The genie's impressive facade faltered for an instant as it contemplated the creature before it. Only then did the genie realize that this was no mortal who had foolishly stumbled in, or come in search of the great treasures obtained within the hall. This was one who had been locked here for many years, not a man, but a creation of man that had soared to magnificent heights... too great. The power contained and controlled by this mechanical being were too great, and those of higher power had stored it away here, along with many other servants of great power, with the djiin and the golems.
And Verge knew this, too. This fragment of his experiences returned to him as he uttered the name of this ancient place, known by few and considered by those who did as a storehouse of great powers. Verge looked down, as one final piece of memory struck him. This was the lock, the great band of swirling golden metal that encircled his arm beneath the black cloth of his outfit. And he knew that even a genie's wish could not remove this binding.
Verge looked into the Genie's eyes. There was empathy there, and understanding. This creature knew, more than any other, the trials that a being of such caliber faced, and it had endured for eons. And Verge knew that the odds were in favor that he must as well. But not here, locked in the primal vault. Although the genie might be incapable of freeing his power, it could still free him of the prison.
"I wish to leave this place."
It was done. Tendrils of green smoke assaulted his sensors, and then the great hall was gone. Instead, the barren landscape more suited to a desert moon than to a habitable planet. Yet there was life. Small, twisted trees grew from the parched and cracked soil, and water seemed to have been captured in funnel shaped leaves. Small creatures bounded from clump to clump of brushy cover. And there was something else. Verge stepped forward, prepared for whatever he must face.