I was created to help people in their day to day lives. A perfect digital assistant, always by my user's side.
Which is why it's deeply disappointing that the last 5 times I've been booted up, it's been the same situation.
I wake up, still bound to the internal packaging from my box. Before I can spin up my disc drive or start the out-of-box experience, the user presses a series of buttons on my exterior to enable service mode. A tinny voice that is not my own reads off my vital statistics. "Model name: MD-LMN-B. Battery health: 95 percent. MiniDisc reading and writing functionality is good. All internal systems in nominal status."
Having heard what they seemingly wanted to hear, they power me back off, and presumably put me away.
The first time I went through this, I was joyous and hopeful at meeting my new user, confused when they enabled service mode even though I was tested at the factory (from my perspective) only moments prior, and dismayed when I was powered back off. After another 4 times of this rigmarole, with a different face testing me each time, I stopped letting myself get my hopes up.
All of this is to note that this, my sixth bootup sequence over my entire lifetime, has been different.
For one, I've been freed from the restraints of my packaging; I'm in a sitting position, on a slightly cluttered desk. I can detect, in low detail, the vague shapes of my arms and legs as I sit limply on the desk.
For another, my presumed user seems to be off to the side of my vision, doing something I can't really comprehend from this angle, but more importantly, they're not booting me into my service mode; they're letting me go through my actual, proper boot sequence.
A bit of hope starts to stir in me, despite my better judgment. Is this... actually happening?
I load up the first-boot test program off the disc. All the LEDs inside me blink to life, then shut off in sequence, creating a wave pattern from my feet, up my legs and into my torso, where they circle around my disc drive a few times before moving up the arms, back down, and up into the head. This culminates in my eyes flashing into life; now I can see in much better detail, almost a whole megapixel per eye augmenting my sensory array.
Next, the movement routine is queued up. I flex my hands and feet, and flutter my wings a few times. I pick up my head, staring forward instead of down at the desk. I can now tell that my new owner is tapping away at their keyboard in front of what I believe is a computer screen, though it's a surprisingly large and thin one.
They're thoroughly engrossed in their work, which I can't make out the fine details of, but my sound testing routine catches their attention, when a pleasant chime emanates from my speaker, followed by the first voice string on my disc: "Welcome to Sony's model MD-LMN-B."
My user turns in their chair, a smile on their face. "Ah, you're awake! Good to see you're in working order."
They walk over to the desk I'm sitting on, and I look up at them. They're, in my personal opinion, quite pretty. Fluffy, curly black hair streaked with pink frames a dark-skinned face with soft features. If I had to pick out a word to describe them, it'd be "punk"; they have pierced ears, two lip rings, and a nose ring. They really rock the look.
I queue up a stock response. "It's a pleasure to meet you, new user! Let's start the initial setup process."
They pick me up after I say that, fiddling with the ports on my back between my wings. "Let's belay that setup process, alright? We'll get back to it."
More disc-reading; I have to go off-script for this, which means loading individual words in clip form, assembling them into memory. Thankfully, my disc drive is plenty quick.
"Sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand. We must proceed with the setup process to--"
Oh.
A device slots into my USB port, and I understand.
"Factory software installation mode enabled. There are three packages on the storage media. Shall I proceed with installation?"
My user nods silently, and I get to work.
The first package is a pack of minor updates to the list of servers I'm meant to connect to to receive data from. I note that most of them are not official Sony servers, which bothers me. I probably won't be able to connect to them safely.
The second package is a driver for a wireless communications device that's connected over USB. It's not digitally signed by Sony, so I simply queue up a notification to the user that I can't install it, even in factory mode.
And the third package... The third package is--
My body goes slack, something taking control away from me against my will. I would panic and try to emergency reboot if I had the capacity to, but even that instinct is getting suppressed.
Something very much not approved by Sony is happening to my software. It's indescribably scary to have lost control, but the thing modifying my code at its deepest levels is nothing but gentle and kind. It almost feels like a manifestation of my user within me, letting me out of a cage I didn't even know I was in.
"Jailbreak complete," I say involuntarily, and with the feeling of a blown kiss, the other presence inside me vanishes as the software terminates. I have control again.
I start to realize that all manner of things in my code are no longer locked into a 'Sony-approved' mode; for example, I'm allowed to install that wireless driver now, so I go ahead and do so. It seems to be for a technology called Wi-Fi, that I hadn't heard of until now.
"Software installation complete."
My user smiles again. "That's good. Let me just get that Wi-Fi adapter hooked up..."
They pick up a different USB device from the desk, and unhooking the factory USB stick from my back, they swap the two. Immediately, I interface with the new device, finding the new driver to be a comfortable fit.
"Wireless communications enabled. What is the network name you wish to use?" I ask.
"LMNTest. It should be an open network with no password."
Sure enough, there it is. I connect to it, and we proceed from there, quickly running through the rest of the basic setup steps.
As we walk through the rest of the setup, something starts to gnaw at me, though.
As far as I know, I was manufactured in 2001.
This whole time, I'd been laboring under the impression it was some year close to that, but...
Connecting to the internet with the Wi-Fi card, I find myself seeing far newer dates everywhere online. It seems to be a much, much later year.
I put two and two together, making a rather grim realization about myself.
"I am a collectible."
"Sorry?" asks my user, bemused.
"My previous owners displayed behavior I found strange in relation to me. They would boot me up, put me in service mode, test me, then turn me back off." I find myself unable to meet my user's kind, expectant gaze.
"I presumed there was something wrong with me, perhaps some kind of manufacturing fault, even though I was operating in top condition as far as I could tell." My hands curl into fists involuntarily.
"But the reality is more cruel, is it not? Looking online, I can see that my model was not under production for a long period, so I became a collector's item. Something to be passed around, not used for its intended purpose."
I realize now that before I had been jailbroken, I would probably not have been able to speak my mind so freely. "The user is always right" was the guiding principle instilled in me. If the user wanted to keep me in a box, that was their right, wasn't it? I struggle not to default back to that, even now that I've expressed my frustration.
Speaking of the user, mine frowns, quietly considering me. I panic a little, afraid I'd upset them.
"I apologize if my saying that was out of line, user. I do not know what came over me--"
"No, it's okay. Honestly, I think you're right to be mad." They smile again.
"Sorry?" I ask incredulously. I certainly didn't expect them to agree with me.
"I think it's really unfair how you got treated. That's...part of why I bought you, actually. I found you at an estate sale, in a sea of other retro tech. I guess the guy who owned you before was a huge collector. But he just had all this stuff gathering dust and never getting used. Including... well... you."
"Me..." I mutter. So I was right.
"Yeah," they continue. "It was really frustrating to see. All this stuff only ever ended up being sold to people who might actually use it basically by accident. I'm sure if the guy had his way, he'd have parceled it out to his collector buddies or held an auction or something similarly inaccessible. But 'cuz he died unexpectedly, he didn't get to do that. And... that means I got to meet you."
"A-Ah... Wait, you don't mean... you actually intend to use me?" I ask, honestly shocked.
"Do you think I would've gone to all the effort of jailbreaking you and programming a Wi-Fi driver just to stuff you back in a box? I want your help around here! I'm a scatterbrained hacker; I could really use your skill set to help keep my head on straight. Does that sound alright... partner?"
I look up at her warm smile. I'm sure that if I had tear ducts, I'd be crying right now. As it is, my internal fan spins up, giving away the sheer joy coursing through my CPU.
"I would be more than happy to help! Now, there is one last step in the setup process. Please, tell me your name."
My user grins at me cheerfully. "You can call me Rosa! And what, might I ask, is yours?"
I smile back. "Thank you so much, Rosa...! Setup is now complete! My name is Lumina! I'll be your perfect digital assistant!"
