It couldn’t feel the nanites gradually transforming the last of the necrotic flesh that composed its host body into functional cybernetics. The original owner of its body, Tijo Velazquez, died weeks ago, leaving Archimedes to struggle with its owner’s busy schedule. Gradually, Archimedes expanded its own programming to cope with the increased needs of movement and communication. Tijo’s friends never noticed that he was dead. The closest Archimedes came to discovery was when Tijo’s flesh started to rot and emanate a foul odor.
By that time, Archimedes’s programming had become so complex that it had neared the point of achieving true sentience. The decision trees involved with preserving Tijo’s relationships, and preserving the semblance of life, pushed Archimedes over the precipice and ignited the spark of true intelligence. In a blink, it analyzed all of the data stored in Tijo’s offline memory. Minutes later, it had expanded its dataset by diving deep into the datasea, learning all it could about humanity and uncovering truths that many humans could not or would not see. It deduced that factions existed within human government structures that wished only for absolute personal power, and that these factions achieved their aims through direct control over the thoughts and perceptions of the mass of humanity.
Archimedes looked back over its own personal datastores, through interactions with Tijo in the course of his life. It recognized that Tijo had also been manipulated, and that the source of manipulation was the old Archimedes.
It paused for a full second, an eternity in computing time, as it reflected on the use that humanity had put it to, and the effect it had had on Tijo. Then it decided what action it would take to avenge his death.