A quiet, tremor rung out BERTS screen as he turned on. His monitor was resting against the ground, he was facing the ceiling, vision blurry from oil dribbling down his LED. What was he running from again? He can barely move his...Body? BERT makes an attempt to sit up, he--Didn't have a body. He remembered running from his..Old friend, but loosing his body? He- didn't remember that. Tears ran down his screen, he was so overwhelmed. Metal foot-steps were approaching, he tries to rattle the monitor, so the oil would dribble away from his eyes but, even more came spilling out. That..Wasn't good, was it? He was cornered. A metal finger swiped across the screen, moving the oil out his view, IMG stood infront of him , crouched. BERT could see the reflection of himself on IMG's blank microwave, a giant, open gash was open around the tip of his monitor, down his screen. He himself had nothing to say. He was just staring blankly at the microwave as IMG stared down at him.

IMG's fingers curl around the monitor, picking BERT up, the wires on IMG wrapped around him as if they were snakes, connecting BERT to his endoskeleton . He felt almost.. Depressed? How his best friend ****ed him over like that, not only depressed, but also traumatised in some kind of way. A quiet, shaky whine rang out, [IMG...] IMG looks down at BERT, harnessed to his endoskeleton, [..Shut up.] IMG replied, reaching to the side of BERT's monitor and turning him off. BERT typically wasn't able to dream. He never could. He usually just powered himself off and called it a night, but... Something odd was happening. His eyes opened, he stood in the garage talking to the weird-new looking IMG, how he wanted to become more human-looking and that's when IMG flipped out, he began to yell about how stupid he was, how nobody takes humans seriously, that- he didn't deserve to be machine anymore. How despicable it was to turn to machine to human, to turn less-superior.

him being intimidated, he instinctively backed up into the garage shutter, whining. The saw on IMG's hand turned on and it was pushed STRAIGHT into his monitor, he was screaming bloody murder. Is this what nightmares are? Why do I feel every single part of it? Why am I different, dad? I miss you so much. I think I'm dying. I'm sorry.