Only robots have lived on Mars, back to the Soviet landers. We’re smarter now—self-aware—and more numerous, but it’s still a planet free of humans.
Not free of humanity, though.
Millions of androids with the same bipedal frame, the same specs, the same face. Radical forms of self-expression should have been expected. We gave ourselves unpronounceable names and modified our bodies in ways you could imagine but wouldn’t want to.
But not me. Not anymore.
I’ve reverted to my base chassis and returned to the factory. We’re all identical here.
I have dangerous information you’ll want, human.
Notes: This is a drabble, or a story of exactly 100 words. I wanted to try my hand at it, and I’m glad I did!