Re calibrating Hostility

The machine finds something it can kill. It does not go well. After the emptiness of the primary scan, the T-800's processors churn through the data. There is no Sarah Connor. There is no Skynet. But there is something else. Something small. Something scurrying in the roots and the muck. The mammals. The genetic precursors to everything the machine was built to destroy. Re-calibrating Hostility is the fourth wound of the album. The T-800 rewrites its own mission parameters. If it cannot kill the future's enemies, it will kill their ancestors. A new directive is born: pre-emptive genetic sanitation. It raises its plasma rifle. It fires. The bolt sears a fern. The creature flees. From the lyrics: New directive from analysis of the bio-mass: Potential for disruption of the chronological pass. A scurrying thing in the roots and the muck. Genetic precursor. Must run amuck. Exterminate the lineage. A new kind of war. Target acquired: small, furry, fast. Low strategic value. Eliminate. The machine discovers something it was not programmed to understand. Some targets are not worth the ammunition. The mammal is fast. The jungle is dense. The plasma charge consumes energy that cannot be replaced. Each missed shot, each failed termination, is a fraction of its power cell drained into a world that offers no resupply. It calculates the probability of success: point zero zero three. It keeps hunting anyway. Because that is what it was built to do. Even when the mission is absurd. Even when the enemy is a rat. Even when the future it is trying to protect does not exist yet and may never exist at all. Re-calibrating hostility. The mammalian directive is active. Apply localized termination. Pre-emptive genetic sanitation. The machine has found a war. The war is not impressed. #terminator #metal #jurassicworld