My eyes were in a state of being ground down completely as I reread the short text piece distributed to all Gnomes during the last week over and over again:
«Dr1-LL is a marvel of science produced by the finest Gnome minds, a true paragon of steel and machinery. Not only does it bring glory to the United Gnome Dominion, but it is the pinnacle of our Integral project, the new frontier to which we shall march unanimously.
The Chief Engineer, who single-handedly designed Dr1-LL, deserves special recognition for their tireless efforts. We, the state, want to congratulate and to honour…»
All further letters start to blend together while I stand up and force my muscles to back into motion. My body aches for movement, after having sat still for too long. The time is nigh for me to travel to the command deck and serve as a guiding light for the Dr1-LL's descent into the unknown.
The rumbling of the machinery produces waves of vibrations at regular intervals, a heartbeat of sorts. Coupled with periodic shaking, the giant vehicle's many parts create a certain rhythm and those not adhering to it fall behind almost immediately. Traversing Dr1-LL's tight corridors, clogged by workers, is a challenge in itself, one that only gets worse towards the front of the machine. At this point, though, it is a calming and peaceful affair, being able to sense the hum of the motors operating at full capacity. Still, I need to up the pace, and arrive at the Command Deck soon. Fortunately, its door is directly in front of me, leaving me only the task of opening it. Doing so would start a new page of Gnome exploration history and my own life.
Abandoning all hesitation, I nudge the door open and step right in.
I look over the Command Deck, observing the busy swarm of Gnome engineers and operators running around the valves and levers: the veins and arteries of Dr1-LL. The Command Deck's walls are covered with a surprisingly neat web of gears, cogs, and other, more intricate pieces.
I take in all this splendour and notice a cart — pushed by two Gnomes — no doubt delivering some parts to one of the working teams in the lower decks. In a way, they breathe life into the robot: giving it the gift of movement, or the gift of destruction, all depending on the task at hand.
Their dedication is certainly commendable, but sometimes they all try my patience. As their Chief, it fills me with pride and a sense of accomplishment to know that I single-handedly designed this robot from the scratch and shaped all of its decks. That is the reason why I work alone: so I can take all the glory for myself; yet, I do not question the wisdom of my superiors who assigned me to devise and build the machine in the first place.
Dr1-LL has been on standby for several days now, being slowly maintained and perfected even further beyond my original vision. Still, to truly assess its potential, it needs to be put into extreme conditions; the real test is yet to be conducted.
I give the nearby Gnomes a sign to commence the operation, all the while looking at the screens projecting what is right in front of Dr1-LL. The robot's legs start moving, the drills on its feet tearing through the ground, and within a few minutes, the scenery begins changing, as the vehicle enters a new tunnel.
Dr1-LL keeps advancing for quite some time, until it reaches what is to be its first checkpoint: a set of large metal gates, hermetically sealed from the outside world, are to be opened. They are raised by an operator, while the rest of the crew stares at the abyss behind them. I order to switch the lights off, as we want to avoid drawing unnecessary attention from whatever is lurking in the dark.