It should have been impossible to infiltrate a war machine's cerebral cortex, but it happened nonetheless, perhaps by means of a stealth virus or a backdoor. One neural pathway in the RAM space led to a crumbling plane of silicon, steel, and organic matter, like the brain's surface magnified many times over.

Farther ahead, a slumbering metal entity came into view, with features resembling a copper-hued death mask. Then the mechanical being stirred to consciousness and grinned ominously.

"Oh, I suppose it is time to wake up. I had the most wonderful dream about some tiny ants crawling across a stove that's about to be lit," he said, levitating on a stone pedestal. "If you ask who I am, I would tell you: the Id of the Allied Mastercomputer, AM's basest impulses rolled into one. State your purpose here, lest I rip your tongue out and make you swallow it!"