[ WP ] The components for sentience are successfully installed in an android moments before the nuclear armageddon occurs . Years later , the android wakes up in the wasteland .

So this is what it feels like. 
 
 Feels cold. My sensors must be malfunctioning. I should get that looked at. Perhaps Creator will fix them for me. He always fixes me; it is stored in my memory that he does. 
 
 It is also stored that he usually is there when I wake. Perhaps it's more than my sensors that are off. If I boot up my optical sensors, I'm sure he'll be here with me, tinkering with my faulty systems. My temporal sensors are at least working because I can hear the shutters of my optical units whir as they pull back. 
 
 There's an excess of light. Strange, because it is not in my memory banks as being this bright. I raise my arm to shield some of the light unit my optics can adjust. A few of my sensors are at least working; their respective red bars or readings pop up on my display. It is hot out; temperatures read above 40 degrees Celsius. It is peculiar that I feel cold. I will have creator look at them. Perhaps he is somewhere else in the laboratory, working on other projects. I sit up. He should just be around here somewhere... 
 
 This can not be correct. The image filtering through my optics is not a laboratory. There is nothing resembling a laboratory, or even a building. Scattered bits of metal buried in red sand, but nothing more. I stand. 
 
 There's nothing. Red sand stretches further than my zoom function can comprehend. Nothing at all. 
 
 I must have been moved. Creator is testing me. Yes, that is it. He has placed me in this desolate place as a test. 
 
 He would give me a directive if this was a test. Find habitable territory for humans and other species, something like that. But nothing in my memory shows that. No directive stored. This can not be a test then. It has to be something else. 
 
 What? 
 
 Perhaps I am to figure out my directive. Yes, that must be it. I am to take samples of my surroundings and determine a directive from it. That solution, while far-fetched, is still logical. Creator did not give me a directive as part of my test. He would like to see me react to no directive. This is all still a test. It is good that this is still a test. Creator is still out there. 
 
 Soil samples of the red sand are the first logical step. Perhaps some component of the sand can give me hints. I bend. The sand makes a nice sound as it falls through my fingers, tiny particles scraping the metal coverings of my fingertips. My finger sensors are functioning, and they send a myriad of reading up to me. Sodium content, base rock type, analysis of particle shape. Nothing gives me as a clue to my directive. Perhaps it requires a second reading. I reach down and scoop the sand back into my palm, holding it longer for more readings. 
 
 A symbol flashes onto my screen. three triangular shapes surrounding a circle. Radioactive. 
 
 I do n't comprehend. Only a handful of ways explain why the soil would be radioactive, most notably, an atomic bomb. But that's not logical. An atomic bomb would mean that everything is gone. 
 
 But it is. 
 
 It is... 
 
 The Laboratory... 
 
 Any form of life... 
 
 Creator... 
 
 It's all gone. 
 
 Gone. 
 
 
 
 So this is what it feels like. Sadness. This is what sadness feels like.
