I knelt in the base garbage dump, holding half a moldy energy block in my hand, which was the last ration for this month.
The collar suddenly tightened, and the mechanical voice announced: "Sinner Ajie, your father's body has been recovered as mecha fuel, numbered J-07."
I looked up and saw that the broken mecha was playing Guo Degang's "I Love My Family" in my father's voice: "Son, come and listen to Dad tell a joke."
A crack opened in its chest, revealing burnt teeth—my dad's teeth.
It said that as long as I repair it, I can hear my mother's last words before she died.
But I know, that's not repairing mechas.
That's re-welding the parents' bones into a laughing coffin.
