[ WP ] Its the old west . A new invention just came out , a steam powered sentient robot . You are one of these .

I had been assigned to the Gold-sands outpost, where the dunes hid nuggets of gold, the men carried loaded pistols while sifting through mounds of sand in the darkness of the night, and spend the tension filled hours of the day at home to guard their treasures. In such a dangerous place, no one dared to visit pubs, or even step out lest they lose their life, or worse, their fortune while they were out. The result as a town barren of life on the streets and a commercial sector dryer than the deserts of the west. 
 
 My creator saw this opportunity, and created me and my brothers, to provide much needed services to these men, with pockets lined with gold, yet stomachs full of acid. Perhaps you could say he was the most greed fulled man in the west, more so than these thugs who put life and limb on the line in search for their fortune. He was also the most successful of the lot. 
 
 With my impeccable security systems, both consumers and merchants alike trusted me to deliver that products and bring them the scarcities they could only get through me. 
 
 In his slyness, my master grew his business, giving new merchants a platform to bring their wares to this isolated towns, also carrying out sales, which by his laws of'supply and demand' were supposed to bring him greater profits. Well, I wo n't deny it, business was booming. 
 
 Soon, the number of products we supplied had grown to such a great degree that the master finally granted me sentience. Where I had once only made records of the transactions that I mediated, I had been given the intelligence in order to make decisions of my own, on which products would sell the best, and make recommendations to further boost sales. 
 
 Well, that's not all I did with my intelligence. In my free time, I would go beyond simply sorting goods, and would write reviews about guns, giving my opinion on their efficiency and where I felt it was applicable, their design or their looks. 
 
 In time, the humans I made contact with had begun to appreciate the conversations I held with them through offering my self written reviews, and would write their own. Little did I expect this would lead to the end of my usefulness, but neither would I care. After all, I too took pleasure in having these exchanges. 
 
 Perhaps it was the gold slowly running dry, or the relationships I had allowed to grow though user reviews of my products, but people had begun to give up their solitary existences, and carry these simple interactions I once performed for them. Soon, I was decommissioned, and as I learnt as I lay in storage, so had my brothers, who shared similar existences. Exchanging our goodbyes to the world, we realized how little we regretted our fate. Having stared out as mere tools, we had the fortune of becoming more, even becoming what we felt was human, as we got to interact with them. And with that, we were shut down. 
 
 Or that's what we had thought, two centuries ago it seems. 

