The year is 2102. We're still trying to adjust to the world, but we don't really know the world before. I mean, we do, we just weren't a part of it.

Sometime between 2020 and 2040, technology was on it's way to glory. Mankind had finally invented Artificial Intelligence equal to that of their own. The new robots, now referred to as "Relics," quickly became integrated into society. Human relied on them. They were stronger, smarter, and faster. Some humans felt inferior, so companies began testing mild genetic mutations. There are a handful of new forms that humans have taken, Orcs, Elves, and Dwarves to name a few, and they started to act as if they were other species entirely. Then, in 2058, it happened. No one really knows the cause of this, but some of the organic races began gaining abilities. Balls of fire, electricity in the palm of their hands. Magic, they called it. Magic was better than machines. Magic was better than the Relics. Relics could not use magic. Relics were members of society. They could work, they could have their own lives, they could love other Relics and even organic races. But they were no longer better. It was safer for the Relics of your family to stay home while the organics took their magic to go work and adventure. They were unintentionally discarded. Some were left to rust in their own lives. Some of them were upgraded, made to match the new world. But neither could not use magic. No matter how hard Relics or their creators tried, they could not wield the unknown power. At least, that's what is has been, until now. Until... me.

My name is PRK-324. But my friends call me Park. I'm a Relic. And I can use magic