He stepped up, balancing his way through the tight corridor down to the elevated platform. The whirring of motors and pumps all working in perfect order under his control was producing a pretty calming effect, despite the battle that was before him.
He took a deep breath and moved the machine up, on the platform, moving slowly, with utmost grace and dignity. This was his life. This was the Test.
The gigantic robot, almost sixty feet tall, obeyed every single command of his fragile little body which hung suspended in the well-coated entrails of the machine. The robot itself was a masterpiece, almost a work of art. A tall machine, with long legs and arms and a very small, but well-packed body equipped with the finest armour and most dangerous weapons. His red "eyes" produced a faint buzz and lit up for a moment as he blinked.
He was standing there, all sixty feet of him, with his head pointing high up, toward the sky, in an utterly noble way. He was waiting for his enemy, for the Other One. They were fighting for the Purpose, the purpose of life and existance. They had both developed these robots by themselves, dedicating their lives to it, thus, the robots became the meanings of their lives. If the robot wins, he had fulfilled his purpose. If he fails, living will be much more unbearable than dying. The only exit would be suicide, like the many before him.
All of a sudden, the steel doors on the other end of the arena swung open, revealing a narrow corridor, like the one he just came out of. Light was coming out of the opening, and steam rose from the floor of the passage.
Through his enhanced outer ears, the robot's sound detectors, he could hear a rhytmic thump, the indicator of the Other One's approach. The Battle was near.
The funny part was that he wasn't scared at all. He always thought that the day he steps up here, on the battle platform, he would be scared shitless. But now, facing life, death and the Purpose, he felt calm. The moment of decision was here. No need for fear.
A huge, metallic hand appeared in the opening. He was here. The Other One. A foot. And then, his head. A slick grey oval, on a wide neck. The Other One looked a lot like his own machine. But, there were differences. However, no time to examine them more carefuly. The Other One stepped up on the platform and took a bow. He followed this routine, complying with the Code.
The strong reflectors came on, making the whole place blindingly bright, and hiding the audience from the view of the fighters at the same time. The metal skin of the machines was reflecting loads of light, deconcentrating him a bit.
The Other One reached into his behind and drew his laser sword. He did the same. They both turned them on at precisely the same time. Two beams of light, one green and one pink blazed out of their hands. They made a full circle, going over the floor, the walls and the ceiling with their beams. The dance had begun.
The two gigantic metalic bodies were flying around madly, as if they were out of control. The invisible audience could hardly follow the whirlwind of flashes that was occuring on the platform. Attack - defence, attack - defence. The fight was rather monotonous in the beginning, but then, they resorted to some sneaky methods of fight. Secret weapons started flashing. Everything became chaotic, it was impossible to follow the battle.
Then, suddenly, everything froze. The whirlwind of gleaming metal, the thundery flashes of laser guns firing, the flow of blazing swords and the clunks of damaged metal. No sound and no motion. The picture was almost surreal.
Then, the Other One swung his sword and in a narrow arch landed it in the eye of his opponent. Metal squeaked as the sword penetrated the fragile structure of the artificial eye, ripping up conductors, smashing the delicate structure of the inside of his robot's head.
He was down. His Purpose lost. He lost.
The Other One pulled the sword out of his head and swung it high up, pointing to the ceiling. He bowed to the invisible audience again, retreating the way he came in.
He was left alone on the platform, defeated, on his knees. He was expected to end his misery, to end his lost life by means of suicide. And it all happened in a few minutes. Years of torturous slaving over the delicate, yet powerful machine, all gone in a flash. The thought was crawling into his mind slowly and painfuly.
However, another thought crossed his mind; he had lost his Purpose, but, what had the Other One won? Now that the fight is over, both of their Purposes are lost, and their lives are hollow. They built the robots, they conducted the battle, and now, what remains?
Since they are the same now, if the Other One doesn't have to kill himself, why should he? In a flash, his life passed before his eyes, and with a painful understanding, he realised the hollowness of his entire existence.
Slowly and again with the utmost dignity, despite the damage that he had taken, he rose and pointed his sword toward the audience. They were there, expecting to see him end his life in a grand way, and he could imagine the surprise on the their faces when they realised that something strange was happening here.
He threw the sword aside, thrusting it into the dark corners of the arena, where it landed with a loud "clunk". He turned around and trying to be as calm as possible, he walked out of the arena. They might be expecting him behind the exit door. They might not. He could live, and he could die. However, he wasn't worried over his destiny. He was proud of himself for taking the chance.
He boldly opened the exit door, stepping into the unknown.