When I arrived on this island, I couldn't seem to think straight. At first I just felt fuzzy-headed and I'd lost some short- to long-term memory. Then I was told completely
unbelievable improbable things. When I ventured out, I was met with things that can only be explained as severe hallucinations. Everyone else seems either as confused as I am or completely insane. I believe that this island is a secret testing ground for illegal hallucinogens. I'm certain of it. Theory scrapped. Working on new theory.
The things on this island are real. They can harm me, but they seem incapable of killing me. Every time I think I've died I wake up nearby. But that isn't the strangest part. I fought some sort of machine, and when I died once again, I came back
different horrifyingly altered. I can only assume that this is some sort of purgatory, that I will die over and over again and be rewarded/punished for my actions while alive. I can't imagine what actions count as good or bad though, as although I've tried to be a good person, I've been brought back as a rotting corpse mutant animal half-sized version of myself abomination against nature ROBOT.
THEORY DECLARED ILLOGICAL. NEW THEORY WILL BE PROCESSED.
After I got used to having a brain that was partially a computer, I've managed to feel a bit more like my old self. But being encased in cold, hard metal with a powerful processor hooked directly into my mind has allowed me to think on things and gain some clarity. The explanation for all this was so simple it completely escaped me. The machine causes it. It causes all of it. It is a device that makes the improbable probable. They kept saying it, but I didn't believe them. But now I see it as the only rational explanation.
After spending a great deal of time as a
robot gobot synthetic, I had become accustomed to it. I returned to my old ways of conducting research to try and better understand the island. But one subject of research didn't occur to me until a certain woman declared her intention to exact vengeance perform experiments on me. My inner workings made as little sense as much of the island does. Parts that don't actually connect to anything, hydraulics filled with sand, other improbable things. But the thing that really intrigued me was a green glowing die where my heart would have been were I a human. I was prepared to extract it for further study, but in a bumbling mistake stroke of genius I delivered it a strong electrical shock instead. I could not have predicted the consequences. My synthetic form was burned away in green fire and replaced with flesh and blood once again. I stood there naked and dumbfounded triumphantly, having become something greater than human. Further research into my own transformation and people who are similar to me is forthcoming.
My earlier glee at having joined the ranks of those artisans of the improbable, the Jokers, was unfounded. I'm no Joker. Try as I might, I seem incapable of performing the feats of reality-warping that seem to come naturally to the rest of them. The evidence points to myself having changed: I have the signature green eyes, and that machine now insists I refer to it on a first-name basis and serves me tea. But I have no powers. And furthermore, strange things keep happening to me. The servo arms I loved so much as a robot have returned of their own volition. They appear to be
mocking helping me, using powers that border on the improbable, but they act of their own accord. They attack my enemies and they fill my pockets with things I'll find useful (where they get them from, I have no idea). I suppose this is an improvement over my previous situation, having a powerful helper who follows me everywhere. Still, it's slightly quite unnerving.